Friday, April 27, 2012

The Man

The Audiophile has a thing for Van Morrison, and it is not a small thing. In fact, if peddled Van Morrison bed sheets and footie pajamas, they would be in our possession, and I would be asked to wear the footie pajamas even in the summer when footie pajamas are generally retired to the back of the closet with the penguins and snow mobiles.

Recently, The Audiophile went on a binge and read all the unauthorized biographies on Van. Then he listened to all of his CDs. Well, not all of his CDs, because although he owns all of Van’s CDs, it would take a short sabbatical and possible hip replacement to actually listen to them all.

To add a visual element to the marathon, The Audiophile queued up a concert video from the 1980s. In this video Van was wearing a mustard-colored shirt and pants that were so tight the audience was provided with sufficient anatomical information to enjoy both Van and his condiments.

On the final day of the binge, I took a light lunch to The Listening Room to keep The Audiophile alive, and he said, “Listen, listen, listen. Can you hear it? Can you hear the momentum of the music?”  Um, I don’t know if I "heard the momentum" or not, but I can definitely add that to the collection of recommended phrases for audio wives to use in securing audio favor with their audio husbands.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Endangered Species

There is a rumor circulating that suggests not all audiophiles are men. Since I have never seen a female audiophile with either my naked eye or my properly attired eye, I cannot yet confirm this truth.

The Audiophile has, on occasion, nonchalantly mentioned a she-phile who roams one of the forums on which he tithes his time. Naturally I assume he, and all the other audiophiles, plan to marry her as soon as their current wives die of mostly natural causes.

To illustrate the rarity of the she-phile, I thought I would select a member of the animal kingdom to be the poster child for this nearly extinct audio species. The animal finalists were the red wolf, the oxymoronic dwarf water buffalo, and the northern hairy-nosed wombat.

For charitable reasons, the red wolf won the contest. After all, she is the slender cousin of the common gray wolf and probably does not struggle with water-buffalo weight gain or nosey-haired hygiene complications. 

Now I have a new reason to eagerly anticipate our regularly scheduled visits to the audio store since, if I'm lucky, I may spot the Canis rufus in her natural habitat. I imagine she will be gracefully stalking the merchandise with a sense of purpose, as opposed to stumbling along behind her audiophile husband hoping not to accidentally break anything.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Start Spreading the News

This weekend audiophiles are gathering in New York for a thing at the Waldorf-Astoria. Their wives, from what I can tell, will be left to their own devices to find something entertaining to do in the city since there do not appear to be official spouse outings on offer.

The event does feature some educational sessions, however, including a World-Famous Turntable Set-Up Seminar. I would secretly go to that session if I were at the show, first because of the fantastic title of the session, and second because I could use my newly acquired skills at some point in the unexpected future to blow The Audiophile’s mind.

I also noticed booth space was available starting at $500. This seems a very reasonable price for someone (aka me) to set up shop with a sign that reads: Psychiatric help 5¢. The doctor is IN.

All proceeds from my booth would go to a charitable organization for the rehabilitation of audiophiles – both those who have been emotionally wounded by unappreciative family members, as well as those who have lost one or more of their faculties trying to rig a system that only dolphins and dogs could possibly appreciate.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

The Audiophile received a delivery this week. Since he was not going to be here for the delivery, I was given the standard instructions: 1) Inspect the box; 2) Document any damage to the box; 3) Have the delivery person sign their acknowledgement of the damage to the box.

I obediently nod my head every time I am given these instructions, and then I begin the countdown of dread because in my mind there are more steps including, but not limited to: 4) Apologize to the delivery person for the damage; 5) Tell them I’m sure it is not their fault; 6) Reassure them that a touch-up pen will probably be all that is needed to repair the damage to whatever is inside the box; 7) Offer them a muffin as a goodwill gesture for insulting them with steps 2 and 3.

These Sisyphean delivery people are not stupid. I’m pretty sure they know they are the victims of a never-ending audio tragedy that will have them shoving the same boxes up the same driveways for the rest of their lives.

Fortunately, the box that came this week was the seventh wonder of the corrugated world. I was able to perform step 1 and only step 1 which left me with the distinct pleasure of wishing the deliveryman well without the need for awkward apologies or condolence muffins.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.