Late this past summer the St. John’s music community lost one of its well-known and respected members. Scott Kelly, former owner-operator of Griffiths Guitar Works, gifted musician, family man and friend to many, passed at the young age of 39. Scott was truly one of a kind. If anyone reading this knew him, you’ll probably remember his enthusiasm for music, his dry, witty humour and his infectiously friendly smile. I worked with him for close to four years in various capacities at Griffiths, but we were friends long before.

I remember meeting Scott as a little kid. He was a family friend, and a bit of a local music legend. I will always remember how much I admired him I mean, outside of my older brother, he was the raddest dude around! What, with his 12-speed mountain bike and his flip-up John Lennon-esque sunglasses. On top of that he sang and played guitar! What’s not to love about that when you’re 8 years old? He was as much a rock star to me as Elvis, Roy Orbison or any of the Beatles. This dude had the business of cool all locked up in my books.

As I grew older, I learned to play guitar watching & jamming with my brother, and one day after finding myself in need of a new acoustic I decided to drop into Griffiths to visit Scott. I remember how he let me try a bunch of different guitars, while telling me all about the different types and qualities of wood, the different shapes, sounds and styles it was a whole other world to me, and from that moment on I was hooked!

Now, I didn’t have a lot of cash to work with, but Scott some how managed to set me up with a very nice guitar. Remembering how much it cost I’m pretty sure he gave me a “friend price”, because it couldn’t have been far off the store’s cost to buy the instrument. Anyway, I went home beaming with pride over my new purchase. I was ecstatic, but it was clear that my parents weren’t. They were so mad with me for spending what little money I had on a new guitar that they grounded me for 2 weeks. The joke was on them, though, since I was content to sit in my room that summer and learn how to play. What they saw as punishment, I saw as time to perfect my craft. I still have that guitar today, and I actually use it from time-to-time when performing live.

I’ll always remember how much Scott encouraged me to keep playing, and how he used to make a point of telling me how much I’d improved each time I visited the store there after. I’m sure he was only bluffing some times, but it was the encouragement from people like him that kept me going. He was such an influence on me and he is a big reason why I still play to this day. I wish I had told him that.

Scott’s love of music became more and more apparent when I started working at Griffiths. Soon, I came to realize that he had influenced many people in the very same way. He was like that with every person who visited in the store amateur, professional and everything in between. He had the ability to make any beginner feel like a rock god, and any well-seasoned player feel like they were worth their salt. And there was nothing put on about it. When Scott gave you a compliment it was always genuine and thoughtful. He had a knack for making people feel good about themselves. He was observant and used that ability make people smile. He was quick to point out a person’s musical strengths, and was always tactful when showing someone how to improve on their playing. In many ways he was like an older brother to the younger customers, and a confidant to those his age and older.

The longer I worked at the Griffiths, the more I saw how much he loved to help out where ever he could. He was always giving his time and support to people, whether it was to a youngster who came in with a broken string, to a local artist who was just starting out, or to some of the bigger Newfoundland acts who would frequent the shop. Recognizing that the music scene in St. John’s, and in all of Newfoundland for that matter, was a community, he was always busy building and maintaining the friendships he made within it. This wasn’t just a method of business for him, it was seemed to be more of a life philosophy.

I mean, how many times did he lend instruments or gear from the store to myself and the other employees for gigs, or recording sessions? How many artists benefited from having their albums on display for free at Griffiths, while getting some air time at the store while people shopped? How many people benefited from his ability to get them out of a jam when their guitar was broken minutes before a show? How many peoples’ days were improved simply by talking to him? … how many people benefited from having him in their lives? I wouldn’t even venture to guess. He touched so many lives while he was here.

This was more than evident at his service on September 14^th. The funeral home was packed the whole day, as was the Majestic during the Irish wake held later that night. And with every story I heard, themes seemed to appear: Scott had made an impact on people’s lives; He had helped or influenced people in someway; He had made them smile during a low point; He had left a mark like no other… he was indeed one of a kind.

This coming Friday, December 2^nd some of the people who have benefited most from having Scott in their lives are getting together to hold a memorial benefit concert in his name. There are numerous acts on the bill, and to tell you the truth, so many people wanted to help out with the show that the organizers had to start turning acts away. The show is called “Shine On”, referencing Scott’s almost life-long love of Pink Floyd, but it also refers to the fact that even though he has passed, he will live on in the memories of his friends, family and any one else who he had impacted.
The show is at the Majestic Theatre on Duckworth St. in St. John’s, and will feature acts such as the Novaks, Tarrahan, Ian Foster, Jerry Stamp, Mike Hickey, Glenn Nuotio, the Living Daylights, the Screechcombers and many more… including some of the former Griffiths Guitar Works employees and this craptacular cover band “Ted Dancin’”, who are supposedly closing out the night.

Doors open at 7:00pm. Tickets are $20.00 in advance, or $25.00 at the door with all proceeds going to the Scott Kelly Family Fund. Please come out and show your support for Scott’s family. I guarantee that this will be an amazing show with lots of great music!!!

If you can not attend the concert, but wish to donate to the Scott Kelly Family Fund, you can do sovia Paypal through username ScottKellyFamilySupportFund@hotmail.com,or at any Scotia Bank in Canada. Acct# 0243280 Transit#82268.

Have a good one!

Money is given value because we all agree it has value. It’s a grown-up game of make-believe. Playing along with a game that makes your life better makes sense. However, continuing to play along with the game as it destroys your world makes less sense. We can make-up new games because we’re imaginative like that. Today, our game is complicated by a passing-back-and-forth of world debt. We all owe cash to the invisible hand of the market. It’s invisible, like your other imaginary friends.

People are occupying city streets in the name of something or another. It’s impossible to pin down, because it’s not really a social movement. It’s just sort of an overwhelming response to feelings of powerlessness. People are waking up from the long sleep of apathy and haphazardly stretching for change.

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So, I was reading today on CBC about the Arctic ice continuing to melt (*surprised face*), and decided to read the comments which were the regular witless battle between panicking climate-change alarmists and hands-over-ears climate-change deniers. Everyone was trying to yell the loudest (figuratively, of course) and basically no science was being put forward one way or another.

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I’m not sure how religion and spirituality got all tied up together…

I was talking with a friend recently and was a little surprised to learn that she considered herself a Christian. My surprise stemmed mainly from the fact that I know she has many beliefs that seem to be quite contradictory to what’s laid out in the bible. When I asked her if she believed that the world was created in 6 days or that all other religions are wrong she just sort of scoffed at me. “I don’t believe everything they say,” she said, “not all Christians are crazy you know.”

The main issue I have with this is that I find it very hard to separate fundamentalism from religion… it seems to me that if you profess to belong to any particular sect and profess to live your life by its beliefs (which is certainly your right to do), how can you reconcile cherry-picking the beliefs you like and ingoring the ones you don’t like, or see as outright crazy or politically unacceptable? Read more

If you’re not a regular user of Twitter, you may not know that the RCMP in Newfoundland have an official Twitter feed for their traffic division.  I can understand why this would be a great idea, not only can it keep the public informed on things like current road conditions or other hazards, but it also gives the RCMP an opportunity to connect to the “Social Generation” by making themselves more accessible.

I’m not sure when exactly the twitter feed started, their history on Twitter goes back as far as Feb 1st.  For the first few tweets, you get what you expect from the RCMP, updates on road conditions, weather, etc:

You think to yourself, “what a great way to keep the public informed by the people who are roaming these roads all day every day”.  However, it didn’t take long for that to change.

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Last week I returned a perfectly great office chair to Walmart on account of the fact it was killing my back. While said chair had been in my possession for over a year, it was relatively unscathed and structurally sound. I politely informed the blue-smocked gentlemen behind the courtesy desk that, while I unfortunately had no receipt because the chair was a gift from my dear mother, I can guarantee it had been purchased within the last 30 days and so was sooooo swappable for a gift card. Lies, true. But come on, it’s Walmart.

Happy to have eighty some odd Walmart dalloroos in my pocket, I noticed the Head Cashier was pissed. “This is going in the dumpster, you know,” HC scowled. Dumpster? “Where is this dumpster?” I asked, suddenly very interested. She informed me that it was under surveillance and chained up and the likes of me are never going to get a glimpse inside its treasure trove.

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