I was never into Tom Petty. I didn’t like his songs, I’d change the station when one came on. His voice kinda droned on in my head and I thought all of my peers who liked him were posers. I never saw him in concert and didn’t own any of his albums.

Fast forward to 1989. I started hearing songs by a group called the Traveling Wilburys, and someone told me that was a band Tom Petty was in. That’s Tom Petty? If he’s hanging out with George and Dylan and the others, maybe I’m missing something here. I enjoyed the Wilburys music so much, and slowly, over time, when certain Petty tunes played I started hearing something different. Then, not too many years ago, Tom got his own musical forum on SiriusXM. I started tuning in. The show was called Tom Petty’s Buried Treasure, and it unearthed the genius of Petty and I witnessed it. I got to know Tom through these broadcasts, what he valued and believed in, what his musical perspective was, what he thought was funny, his feelings about America and how music transforms and grounds those who seriously dig it. Tom Petty is quite simply an apostle of American music, a talented, passionate, stand-up champion of that blend of blues and folk and rock and roots music that is so singularly American. It should have been obvious, we should have been friends from the start.

For all those years, I dismissed Tom Petty, disliked him without knowing him. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I often listen to people’s songs without hearing them. I’m sorry I’m prone to making judgments in a snap when they should be made methodically with care. I’m sorry Tom’s gone. Consider the lesson learned: it’s not the tunes, but how you play them. Tom Petty is America rock royalty, now, that seems easy to see.