I’m an introvert by nature, yet I’ve always in occupations where I’ve had to make presentations, do television interviews, host radio and television segments and pretend “smile and wave” around strangers.

You can put me at a podium in front of 5,000 people and I’ll talk no problem, but try and drag me to a party where I’m forced to make small talk and I’m looking for bookshelf to peruse or a dog to pet.

Yet, get me in a live music setting, and I’m ready to be part of the crowd.

This past weekend my daughter went with me to see my favorite band in the universe, The Rose. I’ve talked about them on Sunday Jams, well over a year ago, so I’ll spare you my rant on how everyone on the planet should love them.

The story here is my concert experience, and how it brings out the latent \people-loving extrovert in this people-avoiding antisocial wallweed (I don’t have the looks to be a wallflower). I need to preface, I am always sober at concerts. Ticket prices are too ridiculous at some shows to not remember ever second of a great performance with 100 percent clarity.

There is just a natural euphoria you get at a live performance. Music is the great uniter.

This is probably why I hate when I hear these “all knowing”‘ celebs spout political views to a crowd of people of all walks of life who need to enjoy how much alike we are on this planet, not different. But, that’s another story for another time.

That wasn’t the case for this show. It was beautiful. There were all ages and ethnicities, and multi-generational groups who traveled from all over to fill a hockey venue in Tempe, Arizona just to hear a favorite band live. We traveled a good 500 miles ourselves in the only vehicle we own that could make the trip. It was well worth it.

Even standing in line at concerts can be a cool experience if you know how to talk to people. No matter who a person was or what their politics in the outside world, that goes bye-bye at the venue. There are exceptions, but most people ignore them. For the most part, no one asked and no once cared. It was about the music. The vibe. The fun. “Who’s your bias (favorite member)?” “What’s your favorite song?” “When did you discover them?” “Where did you come from to see the show?” All of a sudden, this person who has no interest in other people was making friends.

Then, after the show, there’s that collective “high”. “Did you also cry when they played ‘Cosmo’?” “Wasn’t Leo amazing?” “Dang, Jeff wailed on that blues riff.”

If you’re into K-rock and K-Pop, there’s another level added. People make and bring little freebie gifts for fellow fans, many with the date and place of the show. People make special outfits for the event, and they all were gracious to each other. People had no problem taking group photos for each other before and after the show, and complimenting each other’s look.

This YouTuber, Tony Stocco, explains the experience well.

After the madness of idiotic COVID isolations, enhanced by the overuse of social media, we’ve all become less friendly and social with each other. My daughter, who graduated in 2020, missed out on a very important stage in a teen’s life. She is still very withdrawn around people…but not at a concert. She talked to so many new friends, handed out gorgeous stickers she designed herself, got complements on her look, and smiled, screamed, and sang through the show.

That’s the concert experience, and it is always followed by the phase of “the sads” when the band leaves the stage. “No! Come back. I don’t wanna go home, yet!”

And, that’s when you realize it isn’t just the band. It’s the brief fun and friendly community it created.

Of course, I’m not just talking about concerts. I understand those aren’t for everybody.

Maybe not concerts, but there’s a need for people we don’t talk about enough. Like hitting a weekend art or farmer’s markets. Sometimes heading to book and coffee shops on a Sunday evening. Small town comic-cons that focus on independent creators and rather than over-paid movie stars are an absolute blast. I highly recommend them.

We all have our “social battery” limits. Yet, we also sometimes need to be around others.Find your thing and get out there. Isolation and loneliness can be a maddening drug. Being alone is often peaceful and a bit addictive. I am mostly happy with my own company, a good book or the satisfaction of time alone getting a project done.

Yet, it is also dangerous. We need connections that aren’t confined to a little rectangle screen in our hands. Just because you can see everything on television, or order everything online, doesn’t mean you should. Unless you are physically unable to get out, your soul needs to wander and connect, even if just on a few occasions.

For me, it is live music, regardless of whether the venue holds 100 or 10,000.

We need “IRL” friends, even if we just see them once in our life, standing next to us at a concert, singing the same lyrics to a favorite song by a favorite artist you are all in the same room to see.

It’s just not the same on YouTube.