The word “overwhelmed” does not do justice to how we really felt after this past Sunday.  The people, along with the outpouring of love and support was unreal to us.  For an event that we never wanted to happen, it was truly amazing.

The amount of gratitude we feel cannot be measured and the list of people to thank is long.  If you didn’t make it to the evet, or left before 4pm, I did address the people that were there.  I will include the written version of what I said in this blog.

But before I copy and paste that, I want to address something.  A lot of nice things were said about me during the day regarding the role I have played with some of the artists and the venue that was Big Texas from 2005-2020.  While I appreciate the recognition, I must pass it along to those who influenced me over the years.  From my parents to my teachers and coaches to the different people I worked with over the years; anything that I am is what I have learned from all of them.  I’ve done my best to absorb all the right things from them along the way.  I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I’ve always tried to see them as lessons to be learned. 

Thank you to everyone that was part of the day on Sunday.  We absolutely loved seeing everyone who was able to make it out.  We are very lucky to have all of you in our lives.

Below is the written version of my address at the event on Sunday.

I’d like to start with a moment of silence.

That moment was for two things:

1. First, for all of the people have been afflicted by cancer.
2. Second, for the cancer inside me, because it’s the one going away.  Not me.

Here’s a story I haven’t told many people about the day we got the cancer diagnosis.  While in the waiting room at the urologist’s office, I got my login for their patient portal.  There was already a ton of information having been in the operating room with this doctor already.  But I went straight to the one that said “pathology report.”  While I had no idea what I was reading, I could tell it wasn’t great.  My very limited biological knowledge told me the words, “Tumor” and “Adenocarcinoma” likely meant cancer.  Besides, the building had the words “Texas Oncology” on the outside.

We were taken back to a room where we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Finally, the medical assistant came in, said she felt bad for how long we had been waiting and proceeded to start talking about the pathology with us.  She said it was cancer: bladder and prostate.  Two very manageable types that could be treated in the office.  She had a very positive disposition and told us of her family members that had gone through the same thing leading her to this career choice.

And then the doctor came in.  In 30 seconds, all of the positivity from the assistant was obliterated.

“It’s bad.  It’s a very aggressive form of cancer. I can’t promise you’ll be here in a year.  It’s in your bladder but not typical to be there so we don’t know where it’s coming from. Treatment will be extensive and include chemotherapy.  I’ve already referred you to an oncologist, you should be hearing from them soon.”

Talk about things going from bad to worse.  

It’s fitting that we are in this building today.  A place that I spent nearly 15 years in.  A place that is a country bar.  Because one could make a very strong argument that life for the past three years has been a “Country Song” for my wife and me

July 1, 2020 – Officially lost our jobs – the one that was here – for the first time in my life.

Less than two weeks later, my wife’s mother died.

Four weeks after that, my mother passed away.

At the end of 2020, we sold our house of 15 plus years to make ends meet.

January of 2021, my wife’s stepfather passed.

With three days left in 2021, I broke my ankle.

2022 started with ankle surgery and a lot of physical therapy. 

In February, our “paid-off” Jeep needed $5000 in repairs, or to be traded for something else.

In October, my blood pressure spiked – like “stroke level” high.

Late 2022 included a several doctors appointments but no answers going into 2023.

And of course, all of that was nothing compared to the ride we hopped on in January of this year.

An appointment with our kidney doctor led to a STAT CT scan, like doctor appointment was at 1:30 and he had me in the tube by 4pm.  The next day the doctor called and said there was a mass in my bladder and that he was referring me to a urologist.  We saw the urologist’s medical assistant the same day, a Wednesday.  On Friday we saw the urologist.  The following Wednesday he had me in the OR.  10 days later we got the pathology report. 

We met with the oncologist a few days later and chemotherapy started on March 7^th.  This past week was the 10^th round.

Just in case it wasn’t “Country” enough, earlier this month, on July 5^th, my wife’s brother (the son of her mother and step-father) passed away.  The next day we said goodbye to our beloved 16 ½ year old dog Luci.  I think that covers every country song element outside of getting drunk, trains and prison.

But here’s the thing.  Everybody has their “stuff” that they go through. But we all have a choice.  In his book Man’s Search For Meaning, former Nazi Concentration Camp Prisoner Viktor Frankl says, “The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose one’s attitude in any given circumstance.”

No one, but us as individuals, gets to choose our attitudes. It’s our choice to be the victim or to rise up, face our challenges and turn each experience into a building block of our lives.

I’m going to go through that list again and try to “de-countrify” it.

We lost our jobs – First, we were lucky to be paid for three months while the business was closed, plus another month of health insurance after that.  In addition, it pushed me to go into business for myself, something I had wanted to do for a long time.  Thank you, Rick Garza and John Savage – the former owners of Big Texas for all of that and for allowing me to learn and grow with Big Texas and the solid foundation it provided for me to move forward.

With the house, we ended up in a better place.

The broken ankle allowed me to slow down and start reading more, a habit that has stuck. 

The physical therapy started a workout routine that got me healthier.

The Jeep was flipped into a ¾ ton truck that enabled us to get a travel trailer that is truly our happy place.

With Luci, our dog, we had her from 9 weeks old and were gifted with an amazing 16 plus years.  Of the dogs that have been part of our family, she really was the best and we were very lucky to have as much time as we did with her.

Now I can’t find much positive in the deaths of our human loved ones other than to realize how precious life is and how we need to take care of ourselves and our bodies.

Which leads us into the Cancer diagnosis.  Cancer, The Emperor of all Maladies.  I’ve written quite a bit in my blogs about this journey.   Since the start, I’ve been focused on a few things. 

• Continuing to live as normally as possible, even if it is an ongoing series of “new normals.”
• Maintaining a positive attitude as much as I can – and believing that we can win this fight.  A belief I’ve held since day 1.
• Appreciation for all of the lessons that life has taught me over the years making me strong enough to fight this.
• Gratitude for all the doctors, nurses and other medical professionals that have been part of my care team.  We’ve been very fortunate there.
• And finally, how lucky we are to have the support that we do.  My immediate family is small, but unconditionally there for us.  The family I married into is comparable to a small army at our backs.  Then there is the larger army.  All of the people we’ve met along the way.  All of the people that are here today.  We’ve been gifted countless prayers, positive vibes and thoughts and I’m convinced that all of that has made a difference for us. 

The list of people we need to thank for making today happen is long, and I’ll try to get through it as quickly as possible.

• To the owners and staff of Rowdys – early on in the process you said you wanted to do this for us and we are grateful for that.  And thank you for allowing me to work with you on booking and promoting your live music.
• To Brook Townsend and the iPro team – You’ve done an amazing job, for nearly two decades, of taking a room that was designed for aesthetics, not acoustics, and making it sound good.
• To all of the people that donated items for today, we appreciate you.
• To the artists that are here playing today, Joe, Nate, Josh, Zach, Heather, Payton, Jake, Jon, Josh and everyone else, we appreciate you and thank you for being here for us.
• To John Mercer and Getting’ Sauced Cookers, thank you for providing World Champion Level Barbecue for today’s event.
• To all of those that have volunteered to help today, thank you.
• To Willow Lindgren and Charlie Diggs – thank you for your friendships and thank you for jumping on board with Rowdys to make this event as successful as it could possibly be. 

There is one more person that must be mentioned.  I may be the one with the disease, but I am not going through this alone.  Cancer doesn’t just affect the person it’s attacking; it affects everyone that loves that person.  And no one is affected more than the person you sleep next to at night.  To my wife – Thank you for being MY rock, my best friend and thank you for keeping me in check.  Believe it or not, when my attitude slips, she is the one reminding me to stay positive.  She is the number 1 reason that I have to win.

Finally, since I’m on this stage where many, many amazing performers and artists have played, I want to share one last story from my days of managing Big Texas. 

Back in 2006 we would bring in small, local artists to play on Thursday nights.  We offered them $200 or whatever money was collected at the door, whichever was greater.  One of the artists that came was very young – 19 years old but had a ton of potential.  The only problem was that he wanted to drink alcohol on stage.  As a manager, I always took a hard line on underage drinking.  It could cost me my job.  Well, despite several warnings, the kid insisted on doing it and I had to tell him he was not welcome to play at Big Texas anymore.  Around 3 years later, the guy that was managing Roger Creager came to me and told me that he had just picked up a new artist and wanted him to open for Roger at his next Big Texas show, but the kid said he was barred from playing.  I knew who he was talking about, so I asked, is he over 21 now?  Yes, he was.  I said it was not a problem and we’d be happy to have him back.

And that’s how Cody Johnson got his foot back in the door at Big Texas.

Once again, thank you all for being here, we truly appreciate you.