I am not a country music fan. I just don't get the appeal.

Maybe it's because I grew up in Wyomissing, Pa. (a very un-country place, despite being the childhood home of Taylor Swift) or maybe it's because I can think of so many other things I'd rather do with a banjo, but in either case, I don't understand the genre's popularity.

Sometimes when people don't understand something, they become afraid of it.

That fear can lead to anger, which leads to hate, which leads to suffering.

Country music has the potential to be one of those things I neither understand nor respect -- such as telethon fundraisers or how Nickelback can keep making records.

But for whatever reason (probably because music is such a potent stirrer of the soul), it's different.

Music is a form of art that can shock our senses stronger like a wet cattle prod in a thunderstorm.

We can discuss the meaning of a piece of art ad infinitum, but we can't control our gut aesthetic reactions to it, and we shouldn't try to.

To me it's a mystery, but if Kenny Chesney moves you, then he moves you.

Like chemistry, the recipe for meringues, and most modern art, I don't understand country music, but I respect it.

Beside, any kind of music that has a song which threatens to " ... put a boot in your ass" (Toby Keith's "The Angry American") deserves at least a second look.

Country music isn't just about corn or excessive attachment to farm equipment -- and even if it was just about those things that wouldn't necessarily make it bad.

If someone says they love their tractor or combine harvester, and that love is pure, who are we to judge?

There's probably a way to look at that love and make a song about it that is very meaningful.

It's that kind of open-mindedness that lets listeners continue enjoying new kinds of music and helps musicians navigate through familiar artistic territory to new creative horizons.

Besides Rascal Flatts, another musician in this week's Venues has taken that attitude to heart -- Max Fomitchev, who, along with other musicians, is putting on a TechnoClassica concert this weekend (check it out on page 21).

As the name of his concert implies, Fomitchev is combining two dissimilar styles of music to create a whole new monster.

It's the Baked Alaska of the music world.

Perhaps we should all take a page from the Gospel according to Max.

So while I won't be attending this weekend's Rascal Flatts concert or actively seeking out country music, the next time it's on the radio I won't automatically change the station.

That's a promise.

And maybe - just maybe - one day, country music fans, punk rockers, classical aficionados, indie bands, beat boys, scenesters, emo kids, hip-hoppers, ravers and fans of blues, ska, gospel, pop, rock, pop/rock, jazz, big band, soul, techno, rumba, easy listening, bossa nova, screamo, R&B, tango, South American aboriginal dancehall music and improvised grindcore terror can all live together in harmony.

Just as long as there's no Nickleback.

Billy Wellock is a sophomore majoring in improvised grindcore terror and is The Daily Collegian's Venues chief. His e-mail address is waw5010@psu.edu.