One concert I recommend for entertainment value is Rev. Horton Heat. He�s got a three-piece rockabilly band, ridiculously amazing suits, and some hilarious songs. Stay away from the middle of the crowd, though. They mosh for some reason or another.

Another concert that I recommend for similar reasons is The Red Elvises. These three guys are a rockabilly band from Moscow. Again, it�s just entertaining. These guys seem to have concerts in less crowded places (like a random Mexican restaurant in south Austin), so I have no crowd-related warnings for you. Pay the $4 cover and see them once. They�re just enjoyable.

The third and final concert that I will see is Ben Folds. Last night I saw him at Ravinia. He�s not a great singer by any stretch, but it�s something you overlook because his lyrics are so good. I�ll also mention that I�m highly amused that he plays rock/pop on a grand piano. He puts on a good show.

The first Ben Folds concert I saw was within my first year in Austin. It was the night of the Seinfeld finale, and the concert was postponed for an hour as a projection screen was rolled out to view Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer�s last episode. Ben and the remaining �Five� (really just two other band members) put on a heckuva show that night, pulling off of Naked Baby Photos and Whatever and Ever, Amen.

I hadn�t seen too many shows at this point, but I found myself annoyed with having to sit through an opening band and with the 15-year-old next to me who lit up a joint as soon as the set began. And although I understand that everyone in Austin smokes pot except me, I didn�t appreciate it. I spent the first three songs in the back of the room, gasping for air as my asthmatic lungs seized.

Not fun.

The next few concerts of his I saw were in a slightly larger venue. I�m getting the second and the third confused. One was with a band. One was just him with his piano. But both times I was near the front of the stage, about eight feet away from him, and to the left so I could watch his hands while he played. Perhaps these were age-restricted shows, but I found both of these enjoyable once the opening acts packed their crap up.

After the one with the band, I took the touring drummer and guitar player out for coffee and pancakes at a nearby restaurant. They were dears. They introduced me to Ben�s mom, and I also got a signed poster to auction off for the American Red Cross (where I was then a big shot volunteer while I was then unemployed).

After moving to Chicago, there was a bit of a gap before I got around to seeing Ben again. Last year an ex-neighbor called to say he had lawn tickets to his show at Ravinia, and I happily accepted. We loaded up a bottle of wine and some sandwiches and lounged on the grass and listened to the show.

The music was quite good, but you can�t see anything with lawn seats. Tack on that everyone in the lawn continued talking after the show started, and it got a little annoying. We packed it up and stood near the seats for a glimpse. Overall, it would have been a good concert had we not been in the lawn.

Ben wasn�t the last show that evening, so we escaped Ravinia via the suburbs train and were back home for a couple beers before too long.

Last night didn�t go quite as well.

This year I got actual seats instead of lawn tickets through sheer luck and being prepared on the day tickets came out. I called the ex-neighbor up to have him block off the night in his calendar. We bought the CD/downloaded the new songs for an idea of what to expect. All was good. We were excited. We were actually going to get to see the Ben Folds concert this year.

Getting into the park after getting off the train was a bit of a fiasco, but we were in our reserved seats quite quickly, eating our snacks and drinking the Bud Lights he packed.

Come concert time, some 17-year-olds came onstage and acted like they belonged there. Lo and behold, they were actually allowed to be. Opening band. Ugh. They were pretty bad, but they only played for 20 minutes. I clapped at the end in celebration that it was over.

Now, onto some Ben.

So they removed the sheets from the good drum set, and people started moving to their seats. They carried out at guitar stand, and the buzz grew. When they rolled the piano out (which ended up being a Baldwin instead of a Yamaha, Ben�s usual brand), people got noticeably excited.

And then they unveiled a stand-up bass, and I got confused. There�s no stand-up bass in anything Ben Folds does.

FUCK! Rufus Wainright was going first!

Again, I repeat, FUCK!

So I had to sit and listen to him be flamboyant, saying the most inane things between his boring songs. When his sister came out to sing backup on one song, my ex-neighbor leaned over and said, �You know how I knew that was his sister without him saying so? � She also sucks.� (rim shot)

About 20 minutes into his hour-long set, I took a nap. I could hardly stand it any longer. It was absolutely craptacular. When he finished, I wanted to do a back flip.

At ten o�clock, Ben Folds finally came to the friggin� stage. If I wasn�t so jazzed about my good seats and every other Ben show I saw, I seriously would have left when Rufus Wainright went to the stage first.

I don�t know if it was the unexpected late start, the slow tempo of every song off the new album, the loud clapper next to me, or the choptards one row up who were losing their shit when Zak and Sara was played, but I was ready to leave mid-show.

When people are up and dancing in the aisle and what comes to mind is, �Oh dear. That�s a fire hazard,� I�m apparently not into what�s going on.

As soon as the last song finished, we ran outta there and toward the trains. Chicago Transit Authority failed miserably to plan for this concert, leaving thousands waiting for a train. Case in point, the show was over at 11, and I didn�t get back to the city until 1:30. Now consider that I managed to weasel my way onto the second train that went by.

If my evening wasn�t already pretty crappy, the train ride home sealed it. I about lost my shit. Were I menstrual, there would have been tears and bloodshed. When at a concert, the concert-goers become absolute fucktards with no concept of the amount of space they individually take up, act as buffoon-like as they please, and get really Friggin� LOUD.

With a train full of drunken folks, I had my fingers jammed into my ears to drown out the noise. If my ears were going to ring that night, it would be from the train�s passengers, not the concert.

I may get grumpy and irritable easier than some people in certain situations, but there�s no reason to yell conversation while on the train. There�s especially no reason to yell after such an incredibly long evening, the fight to even get on the train, and the ridiculously late hour that we were traveling.

So, yeah. No more concerts for me. I�ll keep my fist from shaking at others and stick to the oh-so-convenient Netflix or my trusty Law and Order from 6 until 11 o�clock each week night.

33 minutes until Detectives Stabler and Benson solve another gruesome case. G�nite all.�