I Do Not Hate Technology. I Just Want It to Know Its Place.

I do not hate technology.

The reality is that I am trying to embrace it, especially when it fills the gaps where I cannot, for whatever reason, be personally and directly connected to an experience.

Recently, I watched one of my favorite bands perform live in concert for the first time. The Tedeschi Trucks Band has long been a genuine favorite of mine. Their music is soulful, raw, technically brilliant, and emotionally honest. They are the kind of band that deserves to be experienced in person, surrounded by other people who understand exactly what is happening on that stage.

However, I am also a poor, working-class soul.

I cannot always afford the logistics of taking off and traveling to a concert. There is the cost of the tickets, transportation, lodging, food, and everything else that comes with attending a major event. Even when the money might somehow be managed, there are still work demands, life constraints, responsibilities, and the whole nine yards.

Life does not always allow us to be where we want to be.

So, against some of my better instincts, I decided to turn the concert into an event in my own home.

It was just my wife and me. We settled into our comfortable seats in the living room, lowered the lights, and prepared a charcuterie board filled with homemade food. We did what we could to make the evening feel intentional and memorable. Over two nights, we streamed both Tedeschi Trucks Band concerts from Red Rocks through the Nugs platform.

I had been wildly resistant to the idea of streaming concerts, and I remain somewhat on the fence about it.

My wife and I live in a small apartment. We have a small television, a Roku, and a modest sound system. We simply made the best of what we had.

Was the sound incredible? No. At times, it was honestly horrid.

Did it recreate the feeling of standing at Red Rocks, surrounded by thousands of people while the music moved through the entire venue? Absolutely not.

However, it also did not feel like watching a clean, polished, heavily edited concert special on public television. This was not a carefully packaged performance that had been cleaned up for later consumption. It felt raw. It felt immediate. It felt unpredictable.

It felt like a jam band concert.

There were imperfections, long musical explorations, spontaneous moments, and the sense that the performance was unfolding in real time. We were not physically there, but we were witnessing the same performance as the people in the venue.

That distinction mattered to me.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, can replace the act of being physically present in a meaningful moment. Technology cannot reproduce the atmosphere of a live venue. It cannot recreate the shared energy of a crowd. It cannot fully capture the way music sounds when it moves through open air, concrete, wood, and the bodies of thousands of people.

A livestream is not presence.

However, for people like me, it may sometimes be as close as we can get.

Was it the experience of being there? Hell no.

Was it comfortable in my home? Hell yes.

That is the balance I am learning to accept with technology.

Technology becomes a problem when it attempts to replace human connection entirely. It becomes valuable when it extends access to people who would otherwise be excluded. In this case, streaming did not replace the concert. It created a bridge between the concert and people who could not physically attend.

Thankfully, bands such as Tedeschi Trucks Band appear to understand that there are fans at home who still want to participate. Some of us cannot travel across the country. Some of us cannot afford the tickets and accommodations. Some of us cannot step away from our jobs, families, health concerns, or daily responsibilities.

That does not make us less devoted.

I can still support the band by purchasing merchandise, paying for subscriptions, buying music, and watching selected performances. The artists can continue creating, touring, experimenting, and sharing their work. I can continue enjoying that work in the way that my circumstances allow.

There is a relationship in that exchange.

It is not exactly the same relationship that exists between a performer and the people standing directly in front of the stage. However, it is still a meaningful bond between the artist and the fan, the creator and the supporter.

Do I love the idea of paying for another streaming service? No.

Am I going to binge every concert available on the platform? Of course not.

Will I tune in for important shows from time to time?

You bet your ass I will.

That is the balance between human beings and technology. Technology should not become the experience itself. It should help us reach experiences that might otherwise remain unavailable.

For two nights, my wife and I sat in our small apartment, ate homemade food, lowered the lights, and watched one of my favorite bands play Red Rocks.

It was not perfect.

It was not the same as being there.

However, it was ours.

God bless all of us for the role we play in keeping music, creativity, and human connection alive.