Nate Dorough's blog

When I first decided to accept Maria Stuart's offer to blog at LivingstonTalk.com, I had a long LivingstonTalk with myself about where the line was between writing about my work as a concert promoter, and what I might consider abusing my journalistic powers and using my blogger status to simply be a sounding board for my company.  Today, I walk that line very closely.  I'm going to tell you about something close to my heart, and if I cross the line just a little, it's in the spirit of the subject matter.  Forgive me.

This winter has been especially long, hasn’t it? On Thursday, I was driving down the road, in the same winter trance I’ve been in for months, and I flipped to the Detroit sports station, to listen to the same sports talk I listen to every day, and I heard a crowd cheering, and the crack of a bat. Baseball is back!

It was all of a sudden that I also noticed that the sun was shining. Brightly. And it was warm. I even cracked the window for a few minutes.

As I've progressed through the last six years of putting on concerts for area youth throughout Livingston County, both my favorite and least favorite parts of my job come from the same inevitable fact: all kids eventually grow up. It is so fulfilling to watch a kid who either plays in a band or routinely attends our shows grow up to get a great job, get married, go off to college and do great things. It also pains me more than anything I've ever experienced to see local kids smoke their first cigarette, get into trouble, and make messes of their promising lives. 

I'm going to write this down for you real quick, because you don't have a lot of time.  You're shopping on Christmas Eve.  Silly, silly person.  Why do you do this to yourself every year?  I've got a solution for you that might save your Christmas!

I'll be honest with everyone. I've been uninspired lately, at least as far as writing blogs goes. When it comes time to post something here on LivingstonTalk, I like it to be after I experience something here, in Livingston County, that inspires me to write. But lately, I've been so busy, and the weather has kept me inside. These four walls don't have much to say, in my little apartment in Hartland. 

Who'd have known that the musical revolution would be led by a band that grew up in Livingston County? 

I'm 30 years old. Three decades. I know, not old, but man, it's catching up fast. I'm halfway through my 30th year, and I feel like my birthday was last month. 

I remember a time when I was 14, however, and I had very few places to go that were "cool." I was a Rollerama kid. That's where I grew up. I made out with girlfriends in the practice area. I skated couples. I got put in the penalty box for skating too fast. I thought I was the coolest kid ever. I was lucky. I at least found somewhere where I belonged. 

They used to be "a great band, for their age".  Now they're just "a great band."

Three-piece blues-rockers Apathetic Critic, from Brighton, have accomplished more than most area bands, and they've just recently started driving.  Composed of Brighton High School junior Avery Black on vocals and guitar, and local home schoolers Parker Munson on drums and vocals, and Jeremy Head on bass, Apathetic Critic takes their craft very seriously. 

I'm on tour. 

It's not what you think.  When most people think of a musician going on tour, they think of Tim McGraw or Kid Rock pulling up on a bus, playing a sold-out arena or amphitheater in front of thousands of screaming fans. 

This is different. 

Last Monday, the animals were totally showing off.  That's what I told the children of Chelsea South Meadows School's 6th grade class as we walked from exhibit to exhibit in the Wild Wonders Wildlife Park, located inside the beautiful 280-acre Howell Conference and Nature Center, one of the many places I am employed to build this life I love so much.  As I gave them a guided tour of the compound, our coyote "Cody" howled back at the kids, our new bobcat came right up to the fence for the first time in my memory (usually he hides in the back).  Our two red foxes ran aroun