Friday, May 25, 2012

Little Boxes

In an unexpected turn of events, The Audiophile proclaimed he is content with his current system. At least that's what I think he said. I could be wrong or delusional or having one of those really long dreams that will culminate with me screaming like a quadriplegic mime. All I know is what happened next seems to confirm his theoretical satisfaction.

If you are an audiophile you may want to sit down for this next bit because it may cause heart palpitations, excessive sweating, mood swings, severe headaches, temporary blindness, or the baffling inability to win at rock-paper-scissors for the rest of your life. Here goes: The Audiophile. Got rid. Of some of his original boxes.

The disposal of these boxes happened very quickly and without much dialog. I spoke softly and tried not to make direct eye contact during the process in order to convey that I was a non-aggressive participant in the destruction of the corrugated family.

After it was over, The Audiophile said it was the right thing to do. He said it was time. He said the boxes would have wanted it that way. Then he went to The Listening Room, calmly shut the door, turned off the lights, and curled up on The Listening Sofa with several female artists who are well known for their sympathetic vocals and minimal distortion.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Counting Flowers on the Wall

The Audiophile graciously invited me to The Listening Room this week for "just one album." To his credit, the session truly did involve just one album, and a good one at that. Sure, all of his albums are good, but some are definitely more gooder than others.

Midway through the album, he hit the pause button and abruptly asked me what the song meant. Meant? The song? You mean the song that the girl was singing just now?

I had no idea there was going to be a pop quiz or I would have brought my etch-a-sketch to take some notes. Had he asked me how many sound panels were in the room I would have been golden because I had just counted them from left to right and then from right to left to validate there were 16. This counting exercise led me to wonder if The Audiophile had achieved his goal of "getting the room out of the way of the music."

I tried to pay close attention to the next song in case he solicited my lyrical expertise again, but it was difficult to focus on the music because the sound panels had arrogantly challenged me to admire their equidistant placement and not-so-subtle domination of the room. So although I don't know the message being conveyed by the female vocalist of the evening, I do have a pretty good sense as to whether the room has gotten out of the way of the music.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Electric Avenue

The Audiophile returned from his travels, and we were engaged in a perfectly pleasant conversation when I made a poor decision. I casually mentioned the power had briefly, ever so briefly, gone out the day prior to his return.
I had no idea this seemingly simple statement was akin to saying, “I gunned the engine and ran your SUV off a drawbridge,” or “I cut all your trousers off at the knees to make a patchwork quilt for the guestroom.” All I know is he and his panic-stricken face ran directly to The Listening Room to survey the damage.
Was there any damage, you must be asking yourself if you are an audiophile? No. None. See also, nada.
Was anything learned by this experience, you must be asking yourself if you are an audiophile’s wife? Yes. Not only is it important to be discrete about what you do with the electricity in your audiophile’s absence, it is also important to cheerfully support the purchase of a four-figure surge protector unless you can think of a different method of protecting the gear while not touching the gear.
And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Games People Play

The Audiophile is out of town which means two things: 1) I no longer hear Van Morrison approximating various animal, mineral, and vegetable noises in the background; and 2) I can run any household appliance I want without upsetting the acoustical zen symbiosis of our home.

This leads me to what I call the appliance concerto. Say you start the bread maker to fashion some pizza dough, and you also throw in a load of laundry because you are super-human. Once in a while, when the cosmic symphonies align themselves, the dough and the clothes culminate their cycles at precisely the same time. This results in a cacophonous medley of ringer-dingers that only a non-audiophile can fully appreciate.

I've had the pleasure of an appliance duet several times this year, but with The Audiophile away for the weekend, I'm hoping to fire up enough pinging and dinging devices to have a three-part harmonious experience that will rank right beneath marrying an audiophile and spawning more audiophiles.

Clearly, this sort of business is only embarked upon by deranged people who need medication and shock therapy. I propose this is what happens when one is led to believe that making a piece of toast will get dirt on the electricity and diminish the fidelity of the stereo. So, when The Audiophile returns and asks me what I did in his absence, I'll probably just say, "Oh, I went shoe shopping and got a mani-pedi," because that is a lot safer than telling him what I did to the electricity.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.