On Saturday evening I attended the high school graduation of my good friend, fellow Pilot and The Mustard Room patron Ryan 'Shamous' Helvie. In the three and a half years which I spent as youth ministry equipper at center grove church, my relationship with Ryan had been one of those which had been rife with honesty and restless pursuit of genuine faith. In many ways, Ryan reminded me of myself when I was his age, but he also showed maturity well beyond his years. Though he grew up in the church with parents who deeply loved and cared for him, he would not allow himself to simply ignore questions of faith which kept him awake at night. He constantly expressed a desire to experience the gospel message which other's seemed to be content simply discussing. From the time I've known him as an eighth grade student, we have shared a friendship of openness which has helped to shape both of us into who we are today.Although my wife and I have had similar relationships with other students who continue to enrich our lives today, I bring special attention to Mr. Helvie today because he has always proven to bend to no one else's expectations of who he should be - for better or for worse. Even as he graduates from high school, he sets out to spend his Summer away from the family and friends whom he loves so dearly to be a counselor at Camp Grier in North Carolina. After the graduation ceremonies and dinner with Ryan's family and a few friends, Andrew Furrow and I spent a couple of hours in the Helvie's family room enjoying some good conversation with our friend before saying goodbye for the Summer. One of the most difficult yet rewarding characteristics of the strange animal I've known as 'youth ministry' has been watching kids grow into young adults and follow the voice of God away from their homes as they sojourn into the unknown.
On a lighter note, here is Shamous' stark review of an album I promised but never released as well as an amazing piece of impromptu audio by our good friend. Enjoy.
Hey this is Shamous and...
I’m not going to lie, after a series of bribes involving large quantities of the beverage which shall forthwith be referred to as the, “Coops” I’ve been talked into writing a review for Broken Record’s newest release by Joel Rockey, Marquette®. Even though I said I wasn’t going to lie at the beginning of this paragraph; I already have. No; I wasn’t bribed with coops (nobody has a large enough supply of the drink), in fact nobody even remotely asked me to write a review, I’ll even go so far as to say that if the guys at Broken Records knew about this piece of literature (and they don’t) they’d do everything in their power to prevent it from reaching The Mustard Room. But, Shamous is gonna do what Shamous is gonna do so pick up the phone it’s me, you. Anyway I’d like to pause for a brief moment and stab myself in the thigh with a rather sharp kitchen utensil and then re-gather my thoughts.
Alright, where was I? Oh yes, Marquette®, the latest installment in the plethora of Joel Rockey’s albums. First off, I love this record, the way the raging down-tuned guitars simply scream over the ferocious pounding and beating of drums all the while backing howling vocals of pain is simply head-banging, weight lifting, coops drinking music.This deadly record is definitely more ticked off, hungry, and a heck of a lot angrier than any previous works, and is topped off with a heavy dose of brutality, all served up by coops driven mad men like Joel, whose goal is as with every record to use music as weapon of sonic destruction.
Thus, I’ve lied again and in doing so destroyed the new record’s image with this review; I don’t know what got into me, I may have consumed to many of the beverage now known as coops, Sorry. Truth is, I’ve never heard the album but I’m sure I haven’t done it justice with this review so just disregard this whole thing and I’ll leave you with this quote which includes a large amount hip-hop slang--“ Not all dorks have this haircut but only dorks have this haircut."
With all the honesty I can muster,
Shamous
