Friday, January 21, 2022

Why So Serious

Remember back in October when I mentioned I had ordered The Audiophile a subscription to Stereopile? Guess what? His first issue arrived this week after roughly three monthsor precisely 94 days.

What makes this interesting is I contacted them by electronic means on several occasions with gentle requests and humorous nudges to get them to… enter his name and address into their database?

Anyway, in one of those nudges, I suggested they might like to provide him with an extended subscription since he had grown a ZZ Top beard during the wait. I even mentioned, quite casually, of course, that I was The Audiophile’s Wife and provided them with a link to this blog.

In a matter of hours, Stereopile responded. I eagerly opened their communication expecting some sort of affirmation that I had made them chuckle—perhaps a laughing-smiley-faced emoji or an invitation to be a regular columnist. Instead, I was matter-of-factly informed that we had paid for a one-year subscription and could expect to receive exactly 12 issues. Snap, snap, snap. That means we now have eleven more humorless issues of Stereopile to look forward to before... 

I compose an electronic message as it relates to the terms of our renewal.  😂


Friday, January 14, 2022

Slip Slidin' Away

Here’s a question: Why, WHY, aren’t the feet that speakers come with good enough feet? Are they even called feet? Maybe they are footers, I really don’t know, all I do know is there is always a need for my assistance to tip and hold the speakers while far superior replacement footer feet are attached to the undercarriage.

The Fyne Young Cannibals were no exception. I was doing something perfectly awesome when I was summoned to fulfill my wifely duties as a tipper holder. Not to brag, but I am pretty crackerjack at the art of tipping and holding things at a 43-degree angle while The Audiophile attends to the man work down below. That said, the FYCs, being particularly huge, were at this angle when my mind began to wander down the long and winding road.  

What if I lost control of the tip and the hold and a 149-pound speaker crashed to the ground? What then, huh? Burst into tears? Beg for my life? Make a cup of tea and wait for a sheriff to arrive with the documents detailing the painfully obvious reason for our irreconcilable marriage?

The answer to these questions, and so much more, will have to wait for another day because, miraculously, I did not lose my grip even though I was, of course, using the godforsaken slippery cotton towel to keep my white-knuckled greasy grimy gopher hands from permanently etching fingerprints into the piano-gloss walnut cabinets.


P.S. I don't monetize this drivel, but click here to join me in drinking decent wine. (You and I will both enjoy $50 off.)


Friday, January 7, 2022


Back in 1994, prior to my having any idea I would one day take the highly coveted position as The Audiophile’s Wife, there was an artist by the name of Jann Arden who recorded my go-to song for special occasions such as...

…the most recent quarrel that took place on Audiothong. Now, I do not personally read the forums, but The Audiophile provides me with unsolicited updates on the audiothongery. He is particularly smitten with a gentleman who writes about how to buff tubes, or something of that nature, and is always dismayed when the Audiothong Mafia exterminates the posts for grammatical reasons. But I digress.

This week there was difference of opinion on the forum between two manufacturers of audio importance. One was a domestic seller, and the other was an importer from a country that was deemed inferior to the United States of Audiophilia. I don’t know who won this mano-a-mano showcase showdown, or if the Audiothong Cosa Nostra removed the thread with a fast yank, but based on my limited intel, I do believe some of the parties involved in the conversation may have…

Some advice to give…

On how to be…



Friday, December 31, 2021

Trip Around the Sun

This week, The Audiophile’s personal odometer clicked over to a new decade of life. Apparently, this was his “diamond jubilee” birthday, which sounds a lot snazzier than the “get off my lawn” birthday or the “don’t touch the driver” birthday. Since there aren’t many songs about diamonds being a boy’s best friend, I decided to give him a road trip jubilee.

This trip was supposed to include live music—the symphony, a concert, a female solo artist performing safely behind her microphone, a dude with a five-string guitar—anything, really. Sadly, all the live musicians in the kingdom of everywhere take the week after Christmas off, and all the dead musicians are content to live off their royalties.

The closest we came to a performance was a DIY guy who had cleverly mounted a boom box to the back of his bike. He seemed to have a preference for bass-heavy beats, and there was more than a fair amount of distortion in his woofer, but at least it did not require shelling out seven figures or kidnapping a female vocalist.


Friday, December 24, 2021

Hallelujah Chorus

Dear audiophile, 

Did you remember to book an overweight, middle-aged white guy dressed in fake fur to jam himself down your chimney with an item for your wife that is not 13”x18”x6”? Of course you did. You are a renaissance man, a man with exceptional EQ, a man who appreciates a nice warm bed over the sofa—unless the sofa happens to be in a ménage à trois with a pair of high efficiency you-know-whats.

This, I understand, is presumptuous. Maybe your wife likes rectangular items. Maybe SHE is the initiator? You’ll know this if she has ever said something like, “Hey, babe, why don’t we just get that darTZeel amp for each other and call it a holiday?”

That is not exactly what I said to The Audiophile, but I must have made some vague affirmative gesture, or the Fyne Young Cannibals never would have shown up just in time to celebrate the birth of Jesus. And, now that I think about it, there are quite a few biblical references to the importance of listening, which implies the Lord God Almighty is an audiophile. Wait, that would make HIM The Audiophile. Sorry, babe.


Friday, December 17, 2021

He Drives Me Crazy

The new speakers arrived, and holy exclamation point, Batman, they are huge. There’s no need for a play-by-play on the unveiling just suffice it to say no wives were harmed in the process because they did not touch the drivers or breathe on them or even make direct eye contact with them.

The Audiophile stood back and boldly declared, “These speakers are going to eat the Dollies as an appetizer.” That provides you with a clue regarding his sensitivity score on a scale of zero to ten, and it also provides the context for my naming them the Fyne Young Cannibals.

If you are wondering just how huge these speakers are, I can tell you, according to my calculations, the sweet spot is somewhere near Fayetteville. Perhaps there is an audiophile in northwestern Arkansas who can swivel his Listening Chair in an easterly direction to confirm this truth—assuming he is willing to wait the requisite 800 hours for the FYCs to burn in, digest their finger food, belch loudly, and be ready for the main course.


Friday, December 10, 2021

Funeral for a Friend

If you don’t mind, let’s all partake in a moment of silence to honor the departure of my dearly beloved speakers. Their finish was Ruby Macassar. They complemented the aesthetics and scale of my living room. I loved them. They loved me.

Now for a little Q&A:

Where did the Dollies go? This and more, I do not know, but I am reasonably certain the new owner will not coo over them and whisper sweet nothings into their drivers like I have for the past number of years. And, for those of you keeping score at home, this is the second time I have HAD but failed to KEEP a pair of Dollies.

What is the name of the replacement speakers? No idea, but for now I am calling them the You Are Dead to Me speakers.

Will I forgive The Audiophile? Probably, because if I were a superhero my powers would be patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control even though none of those superpowers come with a cape.

Final words of wisdom: Do not fall in love with audio equipment if you also plan to fall in love with an audiophile.


Friday, December 3, 2021

Head Over Feet

Last week The Audiophile and I were having a lovely time sitting on the sofa, listening to music, in the dark, like mostly normal people. He leaned into me and whispered, “Did you notice what’s different?” I leaned into him and whispered, “You toed in the speakers a little.” He nodded. I smiled.

After a couple of songs, I quietly stood up to retrieve a little more vino for my glasso and WHAM, exiting stage right was no longer viable in the dark without sacrificing a toe on the side table.

It would seem in addition to toe-ing in the speakers a hair, The Audiophile also moved the sofa over by quite a few hairs making stage right an undesirable route to refill anything except one’s account at the Bank of Profanity.

Since that time, I have regularly wagged my toe of many colors in the direction of The Audiophile thinking he might want to pamper me with tender loving care, but he seems to have directed his attention to the more important matter of putting the sofa back where it was prior to toemageddon even though it probably compromises the sweet spot. A hair. 


Thursday, November 25, 2021

Thanksgiving Song

In this season of reflection on all the people and things that spark joy, I would like to acknowledge my eternal gratitude for the following:

In the course of buying and selling, The Audiophile does not collect. What I mean is, typically there is only one amp, one preamp, one set of speakers, one power thingy, and one or two other rectangles that do something critical in the overall experience of listening to a simple song.

Sure, gear comes in, but after a short A/B do-si-do, the gear goes back out. He does not have precariously balanced towers of audio stuff lurking behind closed doors or sleeping under old sheets in the atticas far as I know, anyway. If I ever go to the attic and learn otherwise, I will cut eyeholes in all the sheets and play haunted music on a lo-fi boombox until The Audiophile cleans the place up.

Fortunately, the likelihood of this happening is extraordinarily low because our eHarmony compatibility chart basically states we are both obsessive compulsive with an unhealthy need to keep things nice and tidy. And clean. And symmetricalwhich is a mighty fine character flaw when it comes to speaker placement.


Friday, November 12, 2021

The Candy Man

Here’s a story. Of a lovely lady. Who was roped into a date that was basically a two-hour listening session with a guy from Music City.

Now, this wasn’t just any guy, this was a dealer. Let’s call him The Candy Man, shall we? It’s difficult to know where to even start with this experience, so I will focus on the gloves, for starters.

Remember yesteryear when I carried on and on and then ON about being forced to use a SLIPPERY COTTON DIAPER to assist with speaker placement, so my filthy female hands didn’t eat through the veneer, and blow out a tweeter? Yeah, that, well when it was time for The Candy Man to swap out the speakers in this listening date of ours, he casually slipped on a pair of specially designed Speaker Moving Gloves as if it was no big thing. These gloves were obviously a gift Jeff Bezos thoughtfully brought back from space. They had a soft yet grippy surface. They fit like a glove. And, I saw absolutely no fear in The Candy Man’s eyes as he gracefully placed the Wolf von WangJangles into position without spilling a single drop of fluid from their midrange.

I believe I speak for audio wives near and far when I say this is all we want for Christmas. No, not the Wolf von WangJangles, THE GLOVES. We want the gloves and also all the other things we want including, but not limited to: a puppy.