John passed away on March 6, 2024
By Andrew Harris
The news of John’s passing was startling, but not surprising. It startled me because of his stature both physical and emotional, it felt like hearing a massive tree fall in a storm. He took a lot of pride in his work with lumber, so I’m going to say that it felt like a big tall hemlock tree hitting the ground.
If I had to guess, I’ve had about eighteen hundred conversations with John, and very little small talk. Beneath that big tall guy with a brush cut, in cowboy boots and jeans, was a philosopher and a deep thinker. He taught using the age-old rhetorical methods, he asked sweeping questions, no conversation was ever finished.
He’d almost always start our talks with a simple, “How we doing?”
He wasn’t asking the question to start conversation, he really wanted to know the answer. That made it easy to be honest with him and it didn’t matter if the answer was “great,” or “horrible,” John always knew what to say next.
His ability to relate was uncanny, he empathized like very few, and he also was honest and thoughtful. Those eighteen hundred or so conversations covered a lot of ground, but they had some common themes that were distinct Corneby philosophy which should be documented:
Life is a series of loops
Corneby liked to talk about big things in the abstract. When I first met him he introduced me to the idea that our lives can be thought about as a series of loops. These loops are much more clearly defined when we look back at the past. They vary in size and scope but they are all permanent and interconnected. The trick is to be able to identify and acknowledge the loops in your life, especially when they interact with each other. I’ve gotten to appreciate the loops that I’m not on anymore, realize when I am on a loop and when to get off! This loopy philosophy brings irony to the forefront, gratitude for the moment, and a nice way to think about life.
Not to sound corny about this Corneby guy, but this is advice I am reminded of almost every day. John had lots of loops under his belt as a Whitesville wild man, a rock n roll guitarist, an entrepreneur, a brother, father, husband, companion, and friend.
Life is a funny old raccoon
This was probably John’s most common quip, and he meant it. Being able to think about daily life, big problems, little problems, or just normal happenstances with humor is essential. Corneby was a student of serendipity and if you hung around him enough, you had no choice but to notice the natural comedy of daily life.
Based on a simple Google search this may have been original Corneby, he liked to remind everyone that life, even in sorrow or stress, can be very funny. It is a key coping tool for when things are not going well. To be able to stop, shake your head, grin, and say “man, life is a funny old raccoon” is valuable when “the shit has hit the fan.” Sorry had to get a Warren Zevon quote in there…..
Don’t take the bad stuff too seriously
John and I shared some life events that we all tried to avoid. Divorce, death, dashed dreams, the ups and downs of being part of a family business, even faded dreams of rock n roll superstardom.
*Yes, we both would have been amazing lead guitarists had the fates been in our favor.
**To be clear, John was a great player who loved great guitars. I am an air guitar player with dreams of grandeur. He tried to help me, we had plans to go on tour, but I couldn’t keep focus.
I can’t remember any predicament, any bad spot, any really bad day where John Corneby didn’t have something to say that eased the blow. A history buff, he liked to rain on a pity party with historical comparisons or anecdotes that put things in perspective. Something like:
“Hey this really stinks but at least you aren’t a WWI infantryman in a trench trying to fight off the German snipers, biting lice, mortars, foot decay, and mustard gas !”
John had a great way to reminding you that hardship is relative and that we have to laugh at our daily twists and turns as part of life. He was a good friend to many and I’m sure I’m not alone in being better off for being his pal.
“Life is a funny old raccoon,” – John Corneby
