Music. Now.

I saw a promo on CBS tonight for the Grammy's.

It underwhelmed me, and that's being polite.

Yes, I'm prepared for the "Get off my lawn" nonsense that I'm often hit with when I go down this road.

I've roughly pinpointed my disappearance from knowing the pop music scene to right around 2010, but it's fair to say it had been declining for years.

Look, I know there's always talent to be found, and I've been a mega-strong critic of "American Idol," "The Voice," and all of the other nonsense (sorry, I said it) that pushes itself as "talent shows." I've frankly said those shows are responsible for the decline of popular music, but it's a much deeper thing than that.

While Max Martin is basically writing everything (sorry, Taylor), there have been songwriters cranking out things for years. That being said, will it stand the test of time?

I have a Carole King concert on in the background as I write tonight. To say Ms. King is brilliant is frankly an understatement. The music she created with former husband Gerry Goffin and the Brill Building writers has survived for nearly 60 years. Think of "Pleasant Valley Sunday" (The Monkees), "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman" (most famously by Aretha Franklin), "One Fine Day" (The Chiffons), and "Up On The Roof" (The Drifters).

Not a bad little resume of classic songs, right? Plus we haven't even touched her landmark album Tapestry. That's one of the main records that I recall of my youth.

I've evolved as a listener. I've largely decided that I don't want to pay ridiculous amounts to go see big concerts anymore. That's not to say I can't be talked into, say, Billy Joel again (I mean, that's 40 years of admiration for the man), and certainly if Huey Lewis can regain his hearing when he sings, then I would consider it.

Right circumstances. Right company. Sure. Maybe.

But I'm at a point where I want the grass roots of small shows of all genres. Truth is, I sort of like pretty much everything. I like seeing artists who just have passion for their art. That means more than 80,000 singing along with Coldplay.

I love reading the thoughts of the friends whom I admire for their music knowledge, with Jon (still of R-Va, and celebrating a birthday today), the great "Shagger" Dave, Harold, Susan, Mick, Paul, and others being among those I truly enjoy chatting about music with.

So long as they can deal with my awful "music snob" ways (of course I've been called that...and worse), then we can all have a spirited conversation.

You never know what will inspire me. If you told me I'd ever show love to Cyndi Lauper or Air Supply, I probably would have laughed.

Now I do.

Maybe there's hope for me yet.

John Mellencamp? Er...OK. Maybe not.

Will I watch the Grammy's? Perhaps, because I do try to have an eye on things that of social/pop culture significance so that I can be in touch. Plus I know Mike Genaro is counting on my nonsensical tweets.

Seriously, there might be hope for me.  Maybe I can be with someone who likes Joni Mitchell.

Because, trust me, Tom Hanks could in You've Got Mail. Despite what he says.

He wants to. Besides, Joni Mitchell is cool.