I’ve never been one of those people that dives deeply into the intricacies of music. I don’t know that I’ve ever read any album notes or ever cared much about the backstories of any songs or the recording processes that brought them to life.

My brother, on the other hand, could very possibly breathe music. It’s been a cornerstone of his life since we were adolescents.

I always jokingly tell people that he was born about three years too early to have been diagnosed with ADHD, so from an early age, all of his extra energy has been honed into a rather impressive skill set behind the keys of a piano.

One night towards the end of a trip to Murfreesboro, Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” came on the radio. He had just started piano lessons before that yet was able to go home and on an old piano he had inherited from a distant relative, play the entire opening to the tune without sheet music.

He may not entirely classify as a prodigy, but he’s pretty darn good at tickling the ivories, and even does it professionally now.

I couldn’t play an instrument to save my life. There were a couple of different times that I thought to myself “Hey, maybe I should learn,” but they all ended in miserable failure. I took about three banjo lessons before I realized that I wasn’t blessed with either the patience or the dexterity to make music happen.

My hands are much better suited for tasks like oyster shucking in Washington State or defeathering chickens at a processing plant. For clarity, I’ve never done either of those things nor have any desire to but removing stubborn lids from pickle jars seemed like too mundane of a task to mention and also one I’m not very good at either.

My secret shame… But back to music. While I may not have inherited the same gene as my brother that made him a piano virtuoso, I do enjoy music and like to think that I have pretty eclectic taste. Granted, I think everyone likes to think that they have pretty eclectic taste, but let’s just go with it.

The first concert I ever attended was actually later in life. I believe I was around 26, and me and a good buddy went to see KISS at Bridgestone Arena.

I fell in love with the band in the sixth grade. We were given designated computer time on certain days. This was before people really knew how terrible the Internet was, so for at least the first few months of the semester, we had free reign.

A KISS music video made its way onto my screen, and I was immediately hooked. I collected all of the CDs I could get my hands on and watched their recorded performance from Halloween 1998 nearly on a loop.

So, getting to see them as my first concert much later was a bit of a full circle moment and sparked a deep enjoyment of live music.

There’s just something about seeing someone do a thing that they’re really good at in person. Getting to watch their vision for what a performance should look like is one of the great joys of life in my estimation.

And not to seem boastful, but I’ve gotten to see some pretty great artists in the last five years or so.

I’ve seen Brandi Carlile, whose hat you’ve seen me wear around town and in my opinion is the best singer/songwriter working today, four different times in concert. One was actually a live stream of a concert from Laurel Canyon in California that I watched with some friends at a movie theater, and another was supporting Wynonna Judd at Murphy Center at MTSU.

They still count, though. I got to see Willie Nelson nearing 90 at the time perform in Franklin at FirstBank Amphitheater. The first couple of songs were a little off, but he quickly hit his stride. I was just in awe that I got to see him.

On an unimportant side note, Willie Nelson has the longest arm hair I’ve ever seen on a person. The night he performed was a little breezy, and as he played guitar and sang, his arm hair just gently swayed like a field of wheat, almost in unison with the song he was playing. I don’t know why I needed you to know that, but it felt right.

Anyway, again back to music. I’ve gotten to see artists like Elton John, Billy Joel and Stevie Nicks, Steve Martin and Martin Short, Vince Gill, Ricky Skaggs, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Adam Sandler and Barry Manilow, the first, and one of the only, artist I was able to afford floor seats for, a fact that still makes me laugh to this day.

Live music is truly one of the great experiences you can treat yourself to.

Back when my brother was learning to play piano, I used to get aggravated because his playing was so loud that I couldn’t hear the T.V. We’d argue about it, and he would usually win because he “had to practice.” Now after hearing him play on actual stages in front of people, I realize he was absolutely right.

Concerts are often the results of years of work and dedication on the part of the artists and should be appreciated as such.

You may never see me on a stage, but I’ll take every opportunity I can to go see someone play their hearts out as I watch joyfully from the crowd, trying not to accidentally hit someone with these clumsy, meaty oyster shuckers I call hands.