In the songwriting process you learn to leave yourself open to serendipity… to the unexpected twists and turns that can some times take control of an idea and lead it in a unique direction. And, as a writer, I’ve learned that some times you write a song, thinking you know what it’s about, only to have a new experience breath new meaning and insight to well-worn words. And, as a performer, I know full-well that some shows drip with magic when they initially held no tremendous promise of being anything other than another in a long string of performances. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when my wife’s simple request—to get a gig in Dallas so her girlfriends could hear me while they met up for a girl’s weekend in the Metroplex—turned into one of the most rewarding weekends I’ve ever had.
I’ll admit I didn’t think the idea would go very far… and I never thought it would set into motion a series of conversations culminating in a weekend of shows and opportunity to see friends I’ve not seen in 12-18 years. At first I thought I’d try and figure out a house concert…something small that wouldn’t require wrangling with a booking manager at a venue, convincing them that even though I live in Nashville, I’m a good Texas boy who favors Willie Nelson and Ray Wylie Hubbard to Kenny Chesney and Taylor Swift. I never woulda thought that by simply posting a Facebook status update—“Shannon is… trying to book a house concert in Dallas”—I’d have my high school buddy, Blair Lewis, offer me and my guys (Jack Ritzman on Lead Guitar & Mark Lonsway on rhythm guitar & harmonies) access to a great space below the new restaurant he’s part owner in. And I never would have believed the lengths so many friends would go to in order to be at that show.
Blair and his wonderful fiancé, Dawn, worked their butts off during a hectic week so that we’d have a space that would accommodate our crowd. They made world-class gumbo and opened their home to me, Jack & Mark before and after the show so we could eat and visit with friends. They walked their neighborhood, spreading the word about the show, handing out flyers and shaking hands with folks. They enlisted the help of Blair’s daughter, Morgan, to help with the cleaning and prep, and they made themselves available to assist with whatever we needed to make the night successful. They yelled louder and danced more than anyone at the show (well, maybe with the exception of Art Brant!). They treated us like rock stars and showed us the kind of warmth and love you reserve for family. It reminded me of why I’d considered Blair one of my dearest friends from high school and made me regret the years we’d been out of touch. But, for all the time lost, we fell right back into the old ways and it was really great to celebrate a relationship restored and toast his bride-to-be.
We loaded in for the Saturday night show and I told my guys I had no clue what our turnout was going to be like. Little did I know Robert Hoffman and his new bride, Kari, would drive in from Oklahoma City for the show, or that Micah Murphy would drive 6 hours from Lubbock with his girlfriend, Camille, to be there, or that his sister, Emily, and her new husband, Brandon, would show up, or that Clay Johnson and his wife, Anita, would be there, or that Greg Anders and Kim Baker would come in from Plano, or that Art & Holly Brant and Eric & Toni Modine would drive 3 hours from Abilene to be there, or that Chris Balencier—who I’d not seen or talked with since May, 1990—would drive in from Garland, or that my new friends, Wayne & Toni Peel would drive up from Waco and bring their buddy, Steve and his son. More college buddies like Todd Stirman brought their spouses and shared in our night of music and a trip down memory lane. It was a reunion I never could have anticipated. It was phenomenally humbling to know that so many people from my life went to such lengths to see me again and be part of my music. And you could feel the love in the room during the show as people clapped for new songs and sang every word to old ones.
Everyone thinks it’s the headliner gig on Lower Broadway in Nashville during CRS or the radio interviews, or the feature in a national magazine that makes me feel like a success at this crazy music business but, for me it’s moments like last Saturday night, when I stood in the midst of some of the finest people I know and I realized that the miles and hours and hard-earned dollars they sacrificed were all because of our shared history. I’m carried forward on that love and support; it inspires me to make my best music and to risk big, knowing I have so many wonderful people in my corner.
Not since my CD release shows and the tremendous outpouring of prayers and support during my illness have I known such overwhelming pride and gratitude for my friends and fans. You see, Nashville can sometimes feel a bit lonely and daunting, as dark water often will; you get moments of kindness and you find friends but it’s hard to feel at home when your life is a constant roller coaster, you play for rooms full of fellow writers who critique more than they listen, and your future rests precariously on the whim of industry decision makers and critics. So, on Saturday night, I thought I was walking into a “typical” gig when, in reality, we were part of an informal homecoming... and I was overwhelmed by reception. My wife’s friends who’d come in for the “girls weekend” and my buddies who traveled with me from Nashville to play the show said the same thing… that I have some incredible friends and that they couldn’t remember the last time they’d felt so much love in a room full of people. And, while I always knew I’d been blessed with a lifetime of quality associations and that I was glad for a chance to start sharing my music again, I don’t know that I could have anticipated such a tremendous outpouring of kindness and camaraderie that night.
We left the “after party” at Blair & Dawn’s place a little early and a little reluctantly (though it was already Sunday morning by the time we left) but we had another show Sunday night at the Ritz-Carlton in downtown Dallas. Driving back to the hotel, the guys and me wondered what could top such a great night and a warm reception. We felt like we’d seen the high point of the trip and prepared for the work ahead. But, Sunday night the Ritz-Carlton staff spoiled us from the minute we arrived to load in; James, Eddie, Jill, Michael and the rest did everything from help us haul in gear to offering us access to their staff lounge and storage areas for some eats and a place to keep our road cases and merchandise. With our set-up finished early we took a break and braced for the anonymity of the typical corporate gig, resigning ourselves that our purpose was to be background music or “atmosphere” for their event; we prepared ourselves to be constantly told to turn down our PA and a night of working hard to give our crowd what they needed while attempting to preserve our art and bring our best. Fortunately, I’d worked with this great group of folks before and knew that the event might be formal but those attending would be far from stuffy. As market presidents and execs from the corporate office trickled in for their conference kick-off event, they met us with hand shakes, smiles and warm greetings… and they clapped and gave enthusiastic “thumbs up”, pantomiming their genuine approval. We were background music but we were having a good evening.
As part of our agreement, Jack, Mark and me were invited to sit down to dinner “on the company” but, rather than eating separately in the reception area or long after the group dispersed, we were invited to join them… to sit and enjoy a break with them. We had a fantastic meal, great conversation and wonderful service. The company president got up and passed the biggest tip jar any of us guys had ever seen… and that room full of executives filled it for us while we ate. They chatted us up about our music and gave high compliments on our performance. And then they opened the bar back up in the reception area and let us turn up the P.A. and bring OUR show. We watched the crowd grow and saw all the complimentary Shannon Cain koozies get filled with new rounds of beer. So, we gave ‘em rock and blues and stone-cold country; Mark did a great version of “Sweet Home Alabama” for the ‘Bama boys in the crowd and Jack laid into scorching solos and fantastic slide work while the crowd cat-called and whistled and yelled for more. James and Eddie kept the drinks flowing and Jack, Mark, and me kept right on playing. It was a great time with some really wonderful folks. And, for the second night in a row, we were blessed by the kindness of others and made to feel like rock stars. We were exhausted but we were pleased, knowing that we’d accomplished everything we hoped to in Dallas… and more.
On Monday morning, I dropped Mark at the airport for his flight back to Nashville, then picked up Jack from the hotel so we could start the eleven-hour drive back. It was a gorgeous sunrise and we felt like giants as we pointed the Yukon east and made our way out of town. We put on Walt Wilkins & the Mystiqueros… good Texas music for a fine Texas morning. And as the hill country boys sang "Get Me Gone"--a song about packing up after a gig and getting down the road at first light--I felt like I did after a weekend home from college... rested and renewed. And, like those drives up from Georgetown to Abilene years ago, I settled into the quiet comfort of the road and reflected on the recent reminder of who I was, where I come from, and an old forgotten understanding that, no matter what the world asks me to suffer for my dreams, I will always be blessed with the luxury of home. God bless my dear friends, Jack Ritzman and Mark Lonsway, for making the journey with me… and God bless everyone who was part of that serendipitous weekend. Thanks to all of you, a trip out of town for a few shows was quietly and powerfully transformed into the gift of a journey home.