I Loves Me Some Codeine

So my entire family’s been sick for the last month. We all had the flu around mother’s day, got better, then all got sick again. One of my sons got an ear infection that came on so fast and strong it ruptured his eardrum. Apparently a ruptured eardrum isn’t unheard of and will heal on its own in a couple weeks with no hearing loss, but it’s a little disconcerting to find blood coming out of your child’s ear.

He’s been on amoxicillin and prescription eardrops for a week or so and is doing fine. I’ve been sicker than shit though, with no sign of getting better. Finally I decided I probably had something worse than a cold, and when my temperature broke 103, I figured it was time to see a professional.

So it’s saturday night of memorial day weekend when I decide this, and I know my doctor’s not going to be around until tuesday. I still haven’t learned to get sick during normal business hours. Luckily one of our local hospitals has an after-hours care place, kind of an emergency room for non-emergencies. They have a separate emergency room, so you can go to the after-hours place with something like severe cold symptoms and not worry that you’re wasting time that could be better spent on that guy with the heart attack and the knife wounds and his kid that ate Raid.

The doctor I saw was a very cool black woman with dreadlocks. She checked me out and said that even though she didn’t see any bronchitis or ear or throat infection, it was probably there given the length and severity of my symptoms. So some antibiotics, and prescription antihistimines. Then she asked, “How’s your cough, is it bad?” Of course what I heard was “Would you like some codeine?”

I didn’t have to lie, because my cough really was bad. It was keeping me up at night and my body ached from the repeated convulsions of my coughing fits. So she says not only is she going to give me codeine cough syrup, she’s going to give me a couple refills on the prescription because it’s “good to have around”. Well shit yeah it is.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever had codeine cough syrup, but this stuff is one of pharmacology’s greatest inventions. I’ve had Tylenol 3’s plenty of times before, and I don’t know if the codeine dose in those is lower or what, but they’re nothing compared to the cough syrup. Not only does the stuff stop me from coughing, but I get to go to bed wrapped up in a fuzzy velvet blanket of opiate peace. Give me some cough syrup with codeine in it and everything’s all right, my troubles melting away into a ball of engulfing, drug-induced warmth.

And this is why I must never try heroin.

But I’m set for codeine for the next few months or so, after which I’ll need to get sick again to maintain my addiction. Oh well, life’s full of little challenges, isn’t it?

Fuck iTunes

OK, so the last time I wanted to watch a movie trailer online, I had to upgrade my QuickTime installation. No biggie right? But interestingly, this time it forced me to install iTunes. I would think Apple, who has always been a pretty cool company (despite losing their genius-in-charge way back when), would try to distance themselves from Microsoftian tactics like forcing users to install software completely unrelated to the task at hand simply because they want it to become ubiquitous. But still no biggie, because I keep finding free downloads under bottle caps and shit, and I figure I’ll probably use it eventually. Every time I open task manager though, I see it there hiding in the background processes, sucking at my precious system processes like a giant quantum tit.

Anyway, today I find out about a free iTunes download for a musician my brother just turned me onto, so I figure I’ll see how this iTunes shit works, what the big deal is, why it was so important that I was forced to install it along with QuickTime. I immediately came to the realization that I had to go through some setup.

The first thing it asked me (I think, I’m writing this from memory after all) was if I wanted to scan my hard drive for .mp3 and .aac files. I didn’t see a button labeled “Abso-fucking-lutely Not!”, so I unchecked the little checkbox. You see, Apple, having still never broken even on the Macintosh (yes, I’m exagerating), has found a new gold mine in digital audio distribution, and they are hell-bent on becoming the defacto standard. Apple would like it very much if all digital music was purchased through them, and this might make them somewhat interested in what other .mp3’s I have in my possession and whether or not I actually have the legal right to have said .mp3’s. Caveat fur!

The other thing it asked me, I think in the same dialog, was if I wanted it to automatically rearrange all my audio files. Well no, thank you, I tend put my files where I do for a reason, and when I look for them I tend to look for them where I put them. Also, if iTunes moves them, how then will all my P2P clients find all the (completely legal) recordings (of bands who allow their live recordings to be freely distributed) that I share? (Seriously, I’d never consider infringing a copyright, even though I’ve bought countless CD’s at full price to get a single song or two, even though they told us CD’s were indestructible and would last forever, even though the RIAA routinely fucks the artists whose backs they ride all the way to the bank.)

All that ugliness aside, I was still onboard with the iTunes at this point. I mean hey, I was going to get a free song and not even have to look over my shoulder or find an open proxy server (not that I know anything about such matters). So eventually I see my song, with the price listed as “free”, so I click the download button. Oh boy, now I get to create an account. Yay! Nothing like one more password to have to remember, but what the fuck. I’ve got email addresses that serve no other purpose than to hand out to likely spammers, so I can create an account without fear.

But then the thing that drove me to declare “Fuck iTunes” from my godforsaken blog happened. It asked for my credit card info.

Now there’s so many ways this pissed me off. First and most obviously, why the fuck should I have to give up my credit card info to download a free song? I mean, the chances of me buying music through iTunes is pretty god-damned slim. Not that I wouldn’t pay for online music, but I’m not about to pay $.99 a song for music in a lossy format like 128K mp3, or in some format that restricts what I can and can’t do with the product that I fucking paid for. They wanna sell me flac files at that price, we’ll talk. Of course, they figure if they can get me to give up my numbers now, it’ll be easier to get me to buy in the future. Not bloody likely.

Another thing is, even if I were to buy music through their little service, I’d much rather enter my credit card info each time I make a purchase. Now maybe most users don’t want to be bothered with this, but if I’m spending money I want to be reminded I’m spending money. I also don’t want one of my kids getting in my office and buying a bunch of what passes for music these days because they thought it would be fun to bang on daddy’s keyboard. Or hell, cats sometimes get shut in here. I don’t want a cat buying Hilary Duff tracks by walking across my desk (and quit chewing through cables you stupid little shit, because if 120VAC doesn’t kill you, I will). And most importantly of all, I don’t want my credit card info stored on some computer at Apple.

So fuck iTunes. I don’t like being forced to install software I don’t want, I don’t like giving up my credit card number for something I’m not buying, and I sure as fuck don’t like Digital Rights Management. And fuck the iPod, because you have to transfer music to it through iTunes. If I’m gonna be carrying gigabytes of digital audio processing in my pocket, I’d like to be able to plug in a mic and record anyway.

It’s great that the digital music revolution is fucking up the RIAA, believe me, I’m all for that. But Jesus H. Christ, are we gonna replace it with something worse? Not if I can help it.

Ben Folds Fucking Rules

So the wife and I saw Ben Folds in Chicago last night. Great fucking show. I could just write a review, but instead I’ll ramble on and on about every little detail that absolutely no one will care about, and every little detail about how the music of Ben Folds fits into my world. Consider yourself warned.

So I’ve been a huge Ben Folds fan for about 8 years. I’ve been huge for about 14 years, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, I typically can’t stand modern rock. Does nothing for me. Oh sure, I can get into the White Stripes occasionally, and a dude turned me onto The Mars Volta not long ago (though I can only take them in small doses, lest the music drive me into full-blown schizophrenia) but in 1997, I don’t remember there being a thing worthwhile (musically speaking that is, I think we can all agree that Warcraft II ruled).

But for some reason I still watched MTV. I’d probably watch it still if I wasn’t too poor for cable. Guess you could say even if I hate the music of the time, I still like to know what’s going on. I like my hate to have focus.

So anyway, sometime back in 1997 I was watching MTV at 3am (not really watching, I was reading or something and it was on in the background) and they showed the video for “The Battle of Who Could Care Less”. It grabbed my attention immediately. First of all, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard a lead piano. Joe Jackson back in the 80’s maybe? Secondly, the musicianship was outstanding, the piano obviously, but the drumming was complex and jazzy, not just some asshole going kick-snare-kick-snare on the beat. And the bass player was no slouch either. And on top of that, it seemed like Ben was actually saying something. Something that needed to be said.

And this is how Ben Folds kind of pisses me off. You see, I have delusions of being a musician. I’ve played the guitar for a few years, can sing enough to not sound like a giraffe dying, and always thought I could write a decent song if I had something worth saying. About this time I knew what song I was going to write. I was going to stick it to the so-called Generation X, which just happened to be my generation. The thing is, I fit the description they laid out pretty well, and that pissed me off to no end. I’ve always taken pride in my individualism, my desire to do what I like and fuck anybody who doesn’t like it. Suddenly the way I dressed, felt, and acted (my philosophy if you will) became the cool thing to do. I was fucking pissed. I didn’t know where all these fucking hipsters had come from all of a sudden, because they sure as hell weren’t around when I was in high school. So I was going to write a song expressing those feelings. But then Ben came along and said “you see, I’ve got your old ID and you’re all dressed up like The Cure”. In that song (”Battle of Who Could Care Less”) he said everything I’d been wanting to say, only better than I could’ve. And he’s done that time and time again. How can I be a songwriter with a guy like Ben Folds in the world?

Anyway, after seeing that video I watched MTV nonstop (a truly painful exercise) until they showed the video again, which was 3am the following day. I doubt they ever showed it again. I went to Best Buy the next day and bought the CD.

Of course that CD was Whatever and Ever Amen, Ben Folds Five’s major-label debut. I was worried that maybe the rest of the album was crap. I’d been duped by one good song before. But no, the whole album was awesome. I quickly bought their debut album, and you know what? It was as good or better. Ben Folds’ music was the first (and and so far only) music of my generation that actually spoke to me.

So I’ve been a huge fan for awhile, but despite constant touring and affordable concerts I hadn’t managed to see him live until last night. It’s a shame the Five broke up, because I never got to see them, and while I love Ben’s solo material, Darren and Robert fucking owned the drums and bass, respectively. Mrs. FatDave has recently taken up piano and become a pretty huge Folds fan herself, so tickets to this show were a pretty easy sell.

Anyway, it was a general admission show at an old theatre in Chicago, the Rivierra. Doors opened at 6pm (the show was at 7:30) and it was my plan to be there by 5 and get right up front. Of course, our fucking unreliable babysitter crapped out on us and we had to find a last-minute replacement. Our replacement worked until 4:30, had to pick up her son at day care, and long story short, we ended up in the balcony. I coulda had a good view from the floor, but the wife’s on the short side and wouldn’t have been able to see dick (or Ben). All good though, the Rivierra’s not a huge place, and I don’t think there’s really a bad seat anywhere. We had a good clear view, could see the band’s facial expressions and everything. The sound was decent, I would’ve liked the volume on the piano a little louder, but then I doubt the sound man was mixing for the balcony. Probably sounded awesome at the soundboard.

Now to keep you hanging a little longer, I gotta talk about the opening act. This was a guy I’d never heard of named Corn Mo. In Hollywood movie pitch terms, he was Weird Al meets Jack Black meets Meat Loaf meets Vince Neil. Imagine, if you will, a chubby guy with long blond hair, sequins on his cuffs, playing the accordion and occasionally whacking a cymbal lying upturned on the stage with a drumstick affixed to his right shoe, all the while singing goofy songs (that all seemed to incorporate candy, ice cream, or at least sandwiches) in a wailing heavy metal rock voice. That’s Corn Mo. Here’s a video, here’s mp3’s.

So after 30 minutes of Corn Mo, Ben came out and rocked the bitch (without actually playing “Rock this Bitch” or even “R.O.C.K with your C.O.C.K. Out”, but that’s OK, that dead horse is thoroughly beaten). You can see the set list here. It was awesome. The audience sang along with every song, and Ben beat the hell out of his piano. His bass player and drummer were good, but no Robert Sledge and Darren Jesse.

Highlights were pretty much where I expected, “Zak & Sara”, “Army” (the audience singing the horn parts of course), “All U Can Eat”, and “Philosophy” with “Miserlou” worked in. The audience played a big role in “Underground” and “Rockin’ the Suburbs” where he left it up to us to both sing the Preparation H line and scream “FUCK!”. On “You to Thank” he changed the line “by the time our buzz was wearing off” to “by the time the drugs were wearing off”.

There were a couple guys sitting next to me who I don’t think knew what they were getting into. I dunno, maybe some friend of theirs had tickets they couldn’t use and they were like “yeah, I’ve heard of Ben Folds, and hey, free concert”. But most Folds fans are so dedicated and rabid, his concerts are kinda like cult meetings. These guys looked a little frightened that everybody in the audience sang along, and I swear they jumped when everybody clapped their hands at the line “I click my heels” in “Underground”. Gooble gobble, guys.

On the song “Not the Same” Ben’s got this thing he does where before the song he teaches the audience to sing a couple notes in three-part harmony and then conducts those parts from the piano. After the song he conducts the audience singing them solo. Now in all the footage I’ve seen of this and all the bootlegs I’ve listened to, I’ve never heard this go on so long. He had us going up and down, doing it staccato, this half of the audience only, that half of the audience only. It was fucking sweet.

Now it would have been nice to come home from that and go to sleep, but no, I had work to do. So I do my little programming crap, and figure I’ll see what’s on the AV Club, since it publishes every tuesday night. And who was their interview with? Ben Folds, of course.

So eventually I decide to go to bed. The wife had been asleep long ago, so rather than waking her up I go to sleep on the couch in front of the TV. A little before 4am I wake up having to piss, take care of that, and go back to the couch. A rerun of Conan O’Brien from about a week ago is on. Just as I’m closing my eyes, Conan says “please welcome Ben Folds”. And there’s Folds, playing “Landed” with a full string section. Personally, I don’t like when he fucks around with string sections, and this was worse than normal, because all they did is drown out his piano. There’s some pretty intricate stuff going on harmonically in that song, and it was all lost against cellos and violas and shit. Oh well.

By that point I was experiencing Ben Folds sensory overload. I woke up this morning feeling hung over, even though I only drank one beer at the show.