If you are the wife of an audiophile, you are already saying to yourself, "Ah, yes, I know to whom she refers. The one. The only. Alison Krauss."
Our seats were near the front of the Meadowbrook Pavilion in Gilford, New Hampshire. They were close enough for me to confirm her perfection. She does not have a single unwanted hair growing from her chin nor does she have a faint scar in the middle of her forehead from scratching at a chickenpox when she was in kindergarten.
The Audiophile salivated more than usual. Heck, I salivated more than usual myself. We probably should have worn lobster bibs as a precautionary measure.
Prior to the show I telepathically willed her (and Union Station, of course) to do "Ghost In This House" and "When You Say Nothing At All." To my delight, Alison was tuned in to my telepathic channel.
And that, my friends, is audio winning.