From JuJu with Love

For the past thirty years, I’ve had what I can only describe as the best seat in the house for hundreds of concerts. Sometimes backstage. Sometimes in the pit. Sometimes in VIP seats or suites. Sometimes right up front, surrounded by people who paid a lot more for their tickets than I ever did.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t strategic. It was one of those beautiful, unexpected side effects of saying yes to the right things at the right time.

After living in Washington, D.C. for ten years, I decided to move home to Detroit. My mom was dealing with health challenges, my grandparents were aging, and it just felt like the right thing to do. Coming home wasn’t about giving something up — it was about showing up.

At the time, I was taking classes toward my financial planning degree and working part-time at an insurance agency and in my dad’s law firm. My dad was also the president of a local chapter of an international children’s charity, and I began volunteering there. One of my favorite events was an annual radio-thon — 36 straight hours of live broadcasting with local radio stations, all to raise money for charity.

That’s where everything shifted.

Through those long, sleep-deprived, feel-good hours, I met two people who would become two of my closest friends. Roger hosted a morning show out of Windsor, and J. Love did afternoons for a Detroit station.

The first time I met Roger was backstage at one of the radio events. I walked into the green room and there he was — standing in his boxers. We laughed that the first time I ever met him, he was practically naked, and that it would make a great story to tell our grandchildren one day. From the start, our friendship came with a lot of laughter and absolutely no pretense.

As their radio careers grew, so did my exposure to a whole new world — one filled with music, travel, and unforgettable experiences.

I followed them to station events and concerts all over North America: Providence, Rhode Island. Ventura, California. San Francisco. Reno. Las Vegas. Toronto. Along the way, I found myself backstage, at meet-and-greets, watching shows from every possible angle — from the mosh pit to VIP suites, from side stage to front row.

I’ve watched artists perform with the crowd roaring in front of them and again from behind the curtain, where it’s quieter, more intimate, and somehow even more powerful. And sometimes, best of all, I got to experience concerts right at home — thanks to their record label connections who helped secure incredible seats for some of my favorites, like Train and Imagine Dragons.

And then there was the time J was visiting Detroit and managed to get us into a private U2 concert backstage at Ford Field before the full show. It was limited to twenty radio programmers and their plus-ones. I was the very lucky plus-one. I stood about three feet away from Bono, Adam Clayton, and The Edge — no crowd, no distance, just music in its purest form. (Unfortunately no photos were allowed backstage). It remains one of my favorite experiences of all time, not because it was exclusive, but because it felt surreal and deeply personal. I’m still not over it. Probably never will be.

What I love most about this story isn’t the access or the perks. It’s the reminder that some of the best experiences in life come not from chasing them, but from showing up — for family, for community, for causes you believe in.

I moved home to be there for the people I loved. And somehow, that decision gave me a front-row seat to some pretty unforgettable music, with some pretty unforgettable friends.

From Juju with love 💙🎶🎵