Growing up I was lucky enough to have been given the opportunity to be able to see my favorite band live. No, at first they were not my favorite band, they were a band that my mom and dad drug me along to see, but my parents were cool and took me to see music, so I wasn't really complaining. The first time I saw them, June 16th, 2006 in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, was the first of many. I was only seven, and it was the first of what is now about 20 or so times that I have seen the Avett Brothers live. It was the first time I got to experience music in all its glory.

After that the concerts came pretty close together from what I could remember; they were a local band from outside Charlotte, North Carolina, and we lived in Greensboro. We saw them everywhere from the beach to the mountains, Virginia to South Carolina, and even Tennessee. One of my favorite memories was at a record store in Greensboro called BB's that has since shut down; it was a tiny hole in the wall but I remember a good amount of people being there. Afterward Scott, Seth, and Bobby all signed autographs and took pictures. I remember the seven-year-old me being amazed that these people I had listened to on the radio for so long were posing in a picture with me, while also wanting to make sure I was beside Bobby in the picture. The bass spin was always my favorite.

Another time, we were at the beach and we waited after the show and walked behind the stage; I was wearing a lime green sweater that they took turns signing with their red and blue sharpies. It is has since faded and is packed away in a box. I am banking on it being worth something one day, but I will be lucky enough to keep it for myself and the countless memories attached to it. One of my favorite memories was when my dad and I were driving to Concord to see my grandparents when we looked to our right and Seth was cruising right along in his infamous pick-up truck. I felt amazed, and just hoped he'd look over and wave. From what I could remember in their early days traveling in their cargo van, breaking banjo strings, and creating fans, they were always so kind and genuine. Their music could move mountains, and so could a wave on the highway.

The last time I got to see them live was easily the best; it took me back to being little and watching them in awe. From Smilefest to the Greensboro Coliseum and everything in between, every time I crossed my fingers that they would play Distraction #74. I was enamored with them and grateful for every opportunity. Seeing them grow and change into seasoned musicians with hundreds and hundreds of shows under their belt, hearing one of my all-time favorite songs, "Famous Flower of Manhattan," seeing them from atop my dad's shoulders, Ii still felt like they were my band, not anyone else's.

For years there were countless New Year's shows, parking lot shows, car ride jam sessions, and even the occasional chatting with Jim Avett in the crowd during a show. I got to experience alongside my dad. They were some of the best times, and a great thing we got to share. As I have gotten older and grown, the Avetts have too: they have added new members, they have exponentially grown their fan base, and they could even be considered a house hold name. I am proud to have stuck by them all these years and been able to appreciate the talent they have had to offer. The Avetts have taught me what music should be, what performing means, and what talent sounds like. You have made music mean something.