Guitars & Radio & Wild Wild Women. (The Best Birthday Present Ever) Chapter XIV (edited 9/19)

I think I was destined
to be a radio guy

And mostly what I do
I learned at old CKY.

Had a boss named Jimmy
who let me run

And even to this day
I’m still having fun.

To play or not to play, that was the question. I began my radio career at CKY in Winnipeg when all the Americans worked at CKY, so I learned radio their way. Unfortunately, when Jimmy Darin and his crew, Gary Todd, Dean Scott, Chuck Dann, and Mark Parr left, they took their exciting brand of radio back to America with them.

Even though I was only a radio rookie, I had the feeling that soon I’d be forced to choose between radio and the band. I was having my birthday dinner with my wife and parents when that choice may have been taken out of my hands. Suddenly, Lana who was very pregnant went into labor. Upon our arrival at St Boniface Hospital, I was relegated to the waiting room, in those days expectant fathers weren’t welcome in the birthing rooms.

As I waited and waited and waited, the more excited I became about the pending arrival of my son Curtis. I could hardly wait to do all the fun things fathers and sons do together. My only question was, “How old should be before I take him to see the Bombers?” After what seemed like forever, the hospital staff suggested that I should leave, because it looked like it was gonna be a long night.
12166344_10154267379724307_1879729255_nThankfully, my good friend Jim Coghill (pictured above) lived nearby. We spent the evening toasting my son who, if he arrived before midnight, would have the same birthday as me. Either way, he was still gonna be a great birthday present. While sitting around at Jim’s place, I continued to check in with the hospital. Finally, they told me that I should return, but it was a false alarm, so I lay down to take a nap in the waiting room 

A few hours later, I thought I heard someone calling my name. When I sat up still in a fog, I noticed a nurse standing there holding what looked like a wee alien in her arms. The poor thing was all covered in slime, and its little head appeared to be misshaped. (I was told that it had been a difficult birth, so forceps had to be used ) While still trying to clear my head I heard her say, “Congratulations Mr. Johns you’re now the father of a baby girl.” HUH? A baby girl, a daughter you say, what the hell do you do with them?

(Pictured above celebrating our birthdays together in California recently, skiing in Vermont, graduation day at UCLA, and shortly after her finishing the Iron Man in California.)

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