It was in my blood
to be a radio guy
And most of what I still do
I learned at old CKY.

Had a boss named Jimmy
who let me run
And to this day
we’re still having fun.

I celebrated my 26th birthday in the waiting room of the St. Boniface Hospital, thinking about stuff.
I was only a radio rookie, but I enjoyed it, and even though it wasn’t interfering with playing with The Jury, I had a feeling it soon would.

Earlier that evening, while having a birthday dinner with my parents, my wife  Lana 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 room, and I have no idea why they’d want to be in there now.)

As I sat around excitedly waiting for the arrival of my son Curtis, I started thinking about all the fun things we were going to do together like go to Blue Bomber games and maybe play a little hockey.
Anyway, after what seemed like forever; finally, one of the nurses suggested that there was no need for me to hang around because it looked like it was going to be a long night.
Thankfully, my good friend from CKY, Jim Coghill (pictured above) lived nearby, so we spent the evening toasting my son’s pending arrival.
I, of course, continued to check in with the hospital, and finally, they told me that it was time to return.

Unfortunately, it was a false alarm, so I lay down on the bench and took a nap. 
A few hours later, I thought I heard someone call my name, and when I sat up, still half asleep, I noticed that a nurse was standing there holding what looked like a tiny alien.

The poor thing was covered in goop, and its tiny little head appeared misshapen. (They told me later that it had been a difficult birth, so forceps were involved, but not to worry )
While trying to clear my head so I could figure out what was happening, the nurse said, “Congratulations, Mr. Johns, you’re the proud father of a….”

Now, this is where it gets really weird because it didn’t sound like she said, son, it kinda took too long.
I thought maybe it was her French accent getting the way until I suddenly realized that she hadn’t said son; she said daughter.

A daughter, what the hell do you do with them?
Candis was a total surprise then, and she’s remained so to this day. Happy Birthday, Honey. xoxo

(Candis and I pictured above in Vermont and at her graduation from UCLA. Pictured below is her competing in the Iron Man competition.)