A few weeks ago, I was purusing the list of the most popular concert areas in the country, as compiled by the good folks at Pollstar, who track concert schedules, grosses and the like.

The list was fairly predictable. There was New York.. Los Angeles. Chicago. Miami. Dallas. Norwich-New London.

Wait a rockin’ minute. Norwich-New London?

Yes, it’s true. Right there in the middle of the Top 20 was Norwich-New London. God bless the casinos, for they have brought many concerts to the formerly vast musical wasteland that was Southeastern Connecticut.

When I was a kid, growing up in Mystic, there was virtually no live music to speak of in the area. I don’t count the country western bars on Route 12 in Groton, because they admittedly catered to the out of town sailors, and not to us locals.

Finding out about music, and then getting to see it live on a stage, was incredibly difficult in those days. What passed for a music store, where we bought a quaint product called a "record album," was Oliver’s, which was on the Groton side of the river where, I believe, an art studio now stands. A genial fellow named Ted ran both the Mystic and Danielson stores. I remember him as very straight-laced, but he did know his music. I would go there many afternoons after school, and sometimes on Saturday mornings. When he saw me come in, he would immediately put a new record on his turntable, be it the Beatles, the Stones, the Monkees (!!), whatever. He also had an outdoor speaker, just over the front door, which, when the wind was right, would literally blow the music all over town.

When I was about 12, in the mid to late Sixties, my mother, God bless her, got me a subscription to something called Rolling Stone magazine. In those days, it was a hell of lot less glossy than it is today. Instead, it was crammed with interviews and reviews, if you could call them that, with and about folks like Jimi Hendrix, Elvin Bishop, John Lennon and others. I read about their music in the Stone, and Ted would order their records for me.

As I got a little bit older, I began to notice reviews of these artists and groups playing live concerts. Since I was a teenager, my parents would let me go to the "Como," which is what the Stonington Community Center was called then, where the esteemed and long lamented Frank Turek would bring in local groups like the Wild Weeds, Burgundy Sunset, and, my favorite, The Foremost (whose lead singer, Karl Kelly, stills works locally with Little Anthony & the Locomotives). Later, it was Greg & the Group (featuring the fabulous Greg Piccolo, from Pawcatuck), and, finally, the Cadillac of local music, Roomful of Blues.

Still, it was problematic to see national and international bands play live, since no one, naturally, put Mystic on their tour itinerary. When I was 14, my mother (yes, her again) took me to the University of Rhode Island campus in Kingston, to see Joe Cocker, Mad Dogs & Englishmen. It was my first live concert. She sat in the car, while I was enthralled over the live performance.

Man, was I hooked. But, it was still hard. I remember a couple of years later, when the J. Geils Band came to Connecticut College. We had been told, or else read in Rolling Stone, that guitarist Geils warmed up alone for over an hour before the show. So, we stood outside locked doors and listened, way before the show formally started.

In those days, I did manage, once in a while, to get to Hartford, occasionally to Boston, and sometimes to New York for national acts. Sometimes, friends and I would sneak into the "George," and other clubs at Misquamicut. It was fun, but, boy, was it work.

No more. Imagine Frank Sinatra, Pavarotti, Willie Nelson, Poco, Air Supply, just about anyone and anything a music fan would want, all within minutes of home. Attracting that kind of talent is what has put Norwich-New London on the Pollstar map of concert attractions. Long may they run.

Of course, now I live about an hour away from all the fun. Naturally, I know exactly how long it takes to get to the Wolf Den and the Fox Theatre and home again.

Some things never change.