Music, if you haven’t figured it out from my regular obnoxious references, is pretty important to me.

As far back as 14, I regularly went to concerts and music festivals.

Rockfest and HORDE Festival in Dallas. Zephyrfest in New Orleans. Memphis in May in—well—Memphis.

Matchbox Twenty. Creed. Nickelback.

And then, one day, I just sort of stopped.

It made sense. I had kids. Priorities changed. Time got tighter. Something had to give.

But after a handful of years, I realized how much I missed concerts.

So I made a simple yearly goal:

Go to one concert.

That’s it.

I even narrowed it down to the venue I like and the section where I want to sit. Once a year, find somebody I want to see, buy two tickets and go.

And this weekend, I checked the box for 2026.

My wife and I saw Jet.

Remember them?

Their big hit was 2003’s Are You Gonna Be My Girl—a song I’m pretty sure Apple legally required you to hear 400 times during the iPod era.

And they were great.

But I think there’s a reason I like my little one-concert-a-year rule.

It’s incredibly easy to stop doing something you love without ever deciding to stop doing it.

Life just fills the space.

Not everything you once loved needs to remain a priority. But some things are worth deliberately making a little room for.

Sometimes all it takes is a tiny rule:

Once a year, I’m still doing this.

Sometimes it really is the simple things.

After we got home from the concert, my kids were insistent that we play Uno with them.

Honestly, my wife and I were tired. It had been a long day, it was late, and sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing sounded pretty great.

But we played anyway.

My son won a game. I won a game. My sister-in-law won a game.

Nothing particularly memorable happened. No big family moment. No deep conversation. Just a few rounds of Uno around the table when we probably would have rather gone to bed.

And it was one of my favorite parts of the weekend.

Sometimes that’s all it takes.

Until next time—
🔥Keep the fires burning,
— Clay

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