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September 16, 2010

Next Time Around, I'll Be A Macbook Mom

Over the years, I have amassed a rather impressive music collection which, thanks in no small part to iTunes, is currently taking up nearly 50 GB on the hard drive of my computer. For those of you who don't know computers, that's the kind of collection that makes the music industry salivate like a pack of rabid dogs. And then they dangle a new Muse album in front of your face, just begging you to disregard your weekly budget and click the purchase button.

I started my collection in earnest while in college when I discovered the joys of plastic freedom. I madly added to my collection as if there was going to be some horrific music drought, single-handedly keeping Visa in business during the economic downturn. Incidentally, I think I should get some sort of recognition for all of those 99-cent purchases. Or at least a free download or two.

As I continued my plastic-enhanced music habit after the baby was born, the unthinkable happened. My trusty old iTunes program, stocked with enough music and archived episodes of Stargate Atlantis to seduce any sci-fi geek, choked over the massive quantity of files. Being elbow-deep in diapers, I didn't have time to deal with it. I had my priorities in-line: baby, then music, then a nap. Thank God, finally, amen.

Given the choice to listen to my music sk-sk-sk-skipping roughly every three seconds or grace our ears with another rousing chorus of The Fishy Song in opera falsetto sung by yours truly, I picked the lesser of two evils. The Fishy Song. But after a few months of that song and every song ever composed by Raffi, I couldn't take it anymore. Where was my rock music? How could I survive without country? And for the love of God, give me metal!!!

After putting the baby down for a nap yesterday, I bit the bullet and I went onto the Apple troubleshooting website. While they had a lot of helpful information for people who use Macbooks, those of you who are still reading this may remember that I use WINDOWS. Sure, my platform isn't as pretty, but it's a heck of a lot cheaper. Besides, when you have a child who is in the process of pooping you out of house and home, you're not looking to shell out an arm and a leg while you have a functional laptop.

When my search on the Apple site proved to be fruitless, I called the automated customer service line. And you know what? IT HUNG UP ON ME. Why? Because I use WINDOWS.

I kid you not.

Knowing that I couldn't take one more afternoon of Down By The Bay, I dug around the Apple website and found the number for their customer service team. That was when I met Anthony.

He wasn't part of the troubleshooting team, but he was a REAL PERSON. He listened to my frantic pleas to resuscitate my iTunes program because if I had to sing Baby Beluga one more time, Raffi was going to have an accident. The kind of accident you see on The Godfather. And then you sit back and smoke a Cuban cigar while wearing a silk dressing gown.

Anthony suggested that I install the latest version of iTunes, something I had been procrastinating since I hadn't been able to use my music anyway. And because my computer has been known to torture me at inopportune moments, I got to know Anthony very well over the course of the next 40 MINUTES. Because that's how long it took to install iTunes 10.

I learned that Anthony lives in Texas but he grew up in Wisconsin. His mom still lives up north. He gets his internet through Time Warner Cable, a little-known fact which sparked an intense debate over which of our internet providers is worse. HANDS DOWN, I win. ANTHONY.

But after those 40 minutes where we sat through the end of nap time, a crying baby, and a maddening amount of VERIFYING INSTALLATION and REMOVING BACKUP FILES, my music was miraculously raised from the dead!

Today, I am reminded why I use iTunes. Their customer service may cater to Apple products, but at least real people can understand my frustration with Raffi.

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