In the 1980s, Western Massachusetts was a rock ’n’ roll wasteland. No big concert venues, no public transport to cart rabid fans to big shows, and no big cities anywhere in sight.

I spent my teenage years there, staying up all night with my bedroom boombox antennae tuned to the area’s many free-form college radio stations. To paraphrase the Replacements, the only rock ’n’ roll bounty we did have out in the boonies could be found to the left of the dial.

I was 12 years old and had never gone to a concert. Joan Jett & the Blackhearts were on tour opening for Hall & Oates on a few dates. A family friend, Julie Rader, was Joan’s tour manager at the time and hooked up tickets and backstage passes to the nearest show, a few hours away in New Haven, Conn. I got to watch from the lip of the stage and meet Joan and the band. I’ve been a lifer ever since.