Swan Song

Once upon a time, two years ago, at the crack of dawn, I helped The Audiophile hoist something insanely heavy out of The Listening Room. To be honest, I wasn't amused that morning, but I decided I could either be lemony about his hobby or I could write a blog and peddle it as lemonade.

One hundred posts later, I've been both sweet and sour. Audiophilia has tested my emotions and probably always will. I love it when The Audiophile spends an entire weekend coaxing perfection out of a collection of components, and I hate it when I'm jealous about the degree to which this hobby consumes him sometimes.

In the last two years, I've learned a great deal from the forum comments about this blog. Some audiophiles think I'm hilarious and want to marry me; some think I'm a disrespectful waste of their time; and some think I'm actually an audiophile -- and a male one at that.

As I bring this adventure to a close, I'd simply like to clarify that although I'm not a humorist, I do crack myself up. Although I have the capacity to be disrespectful, it is only by the Grace of God that I am not. And although I'm not a man, it would appear that I am indeed... becoming an audiophile.

And that, my friends, (who have enjoyed this tagline) is audio winning.

One Trick Pony

After writing last week about my substandard test song, I decided I should pick a new one. Since I am not a member of The Audiophile Test Song Coalition, I spied on them through the World Wide Web.

This resulted in a peculiar list of songs that real people would never listen to. Next, I cross-referenced these songs with The Audiophile's personal collection to see if he was a real person. Let's just say there were enough of these titles in his library to confirm he is a figment of my imagination.

In the end, and at the risk of becoming imaginary myself, I selected one of these songs as my very own. It's the kind of song I can play over and over and not get tired of. Plus, it makes me feel kind of coltish, and that always improves the acoustics and my general willingness to participate in the A/B/C/D/E/F/G test.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

The Alphabet Song

During the month of July, The Audiophile officiated more A/B tests than usual. There were two reasons this proved challenging for me:

First, my test song does not conform to The Standards as defined by The Audiophile Test Song Coalition. When I chose this song years ago, I didn't know there were standards. I just thought you picked a song, listened to it, and said some esoteric things about the sound.

Second, I was under the assumption that an A/B test involved an A and then a B. So when he threw in five additional configurations and made it an A/B/C/D/E/F/G test, my head nearly exploded because I don't have a PhD in anything.

Still, I believe I was able to put forth some seemingly intelligent comments about what I was hearing. And really, when you think about it, this is extraordinary given all the ambient background noise that was galloping around the room as a result of my poorly recorded test song.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

I've Got The Power

The Audiophile was on the phone recently discussing something about something. Out of habit, once I determined it was an audio conversation, I began to tune out.

Tune out, that is, until I heard him shout, "That guy has a HUGE power supply."

Now, I'm not an expert or a pervert, but I'm pretty sure you want to limit that sort of enthusiastic observation to the confines of your private mental library of opinions. Huge or dainty, the size of a guy's power supply is between him and his amplifier, and I think he'd appreciate a little discretion from the viewers at home.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

I'm Still Standing

Even though I like to count things, it isn't often that I comment on the cost of audiophilia because I view it as somewhat less expensive than the four-season porch I'll be petitioning for in a few years.

That said, I recently saw a transaction go through our account for a pair of speaker stands. Just to clarify, the stands are the things that the speakers sit on. To the laywoman, they are akin to a potholder.

The good news for me was this transaction was a credit to our account meaning The Audiophile had sold these stands to someone else. Hopefully this someone else is married to an understanding wife because once she compares these stands to her tattered oven mitts, things could get a little dicey in the kitchen.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Song For Ten

The Audiophile was in his workshop this week building a better sounding mousetrap. This was another of those projects in which I was explicitly instructed not to touch anything because I would immediately die from the current or volts or whatever is was that would rocket my burning flesh straight through the pearly gates earlier than God might have planned.

Since I was not going anywhere near the project of doom, that left me plenty of time to do some counting. It is a well-established fact that I like to count things like stairs, money, and flowers on the wall. If the Pilates instructor says we are doing 30 jump squats, you can bet I'm counting them and sorely disappointed to learn her idea of 30 is a lot closer to 50 according to my math and screaming quads.

Which brings me to my point: Yesterday, according to the arithmomaniacs at Google Analytics, this ridiculous blog you've elected to read reached 100,000 all-time views. And the only thing I have to say about that is...

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Born In The USA

Yesterday was the annual celebration of the United States' independence from some country that we don't really remember anymore because we've spent the last 237 years concentrating on the appearance of our teeth and gums. However, for one day every year, we set aside all our brushing and flossing to blow some stuff up.

Since The Audiophile has been working on a project that could potentially explode his pearly whites and everything attached to them, I asked him what I should do if the amplifier under construction takes his life prematurely. Heaven forbid.

His first concern was our children, house, and vehicles, and his instructions regarding them spanned perhaps forty-five seconds. His only other concern involved the disposition of his gear, and although I did not have a stopwatch running, it's safe to say the instructions were lengthy, detailed, and included impressive consideration for his electronic issue.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Magic Bus

Once upon a time, three weeks ago, when The Audiophile and I were in San Francisco on that Hop On Hop Off bus tour, there was an incident.

While I was craning to hear all of the fantastic details being imparted to us by the convivial guide, The Audiophile was fidgeting. I didn't think much of this until he leaned over to me and whispered with exasperation, "The negative lead to the speaker is disconnected."

Do you know what happened next? Of course you do, if you are an audiophile. The only logical course of action, if you are an audiophile, is to fix that high performance indoor/outdoor speaker right there in the middle of the tour with your bare hands and wily expertise.

Was he successful? You bet he was, and although the rest of the patrons on the bus failed to applaud him for his efforts, I like to think my dumbfounded expression provided him with all the recognition he needed.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Tainted Love

Last week I mentioned my new audio store game in which I look for the prettiest item available for sale. Naturally, while looking for that which is attractive, it is difficult not to notice that which is unattractive, dare I say ugly, even. 

This brings me to a question I've been pondering for years: What's with the handles mounted on the front of stuff? 

Were some people (and by "people" I mean menfolk) sitting around toasting their newly minted products thinking to themselves, "Hmmm, this stuff sounds incredible, what could we do to make it look WAY COOLER?" To which one guy slurred, "HANDLES, MAN, HANDLES." And the rest is obviously history.

Now, I've lifted plenty of gear in my day, and I'm not saying the handles haven't served a purpose, but I believe the moral of this story is that one should never make important aesthetic decisions while under the influence of high fidelity audio.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Everything is Beautiful

Given The Audiophile's propensity to seek out audio stores far and wide and my propensity to tag along behind him like a partially potty-trained puppy, I've developed a new game to entertain myself so I don't accidentally chew on a magazine or piddle on the carpet while he fondles the merchandise. The rules of the game are simple: quietly find the prettiest item in the store as defined by me.

The last store was easy. The hands-down winner was a newly released, high-gloss rosewood number from my favorite speaker company. This manufacturer, according to the video on their website, employs mostly women who are allowed to repeatedly touch the speakers (including the drivers) throughout the manufacturing process.

Additionally, they state, "Loudspeakers perform best in rooms with normal furnishings such as bookshelves, flowers, vases, and soft furniture." Perhaps, audiophiles, this helpful tip from The Experts will inspire you to move beyond sound panels and acoustic diffusers as your sole means of aesthetic victory.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

I Left My Heart

As the grand finale to celebrating my birthday for the entire of May, The Audiophile took me on a surprise trip to San Francisco. It only seemed fair that I reciprocate the love by taking him to an audio store conveniently located within walking distance of the Hop-On-Hop-Off bus tour.

This particular audio store was refreshing in that the proprietors seemed very friendly even though they undoubtedly detected we were on an Audiophile Field Trip which, to the trained eye, in no way resembles an Audiophile Buying Trip.

While The Audiophile was otherwise occupied, I took advantage of the opportunity to eavesdrop on another patron who was conveying to the proprietors that he couldn't buy what he wanted to buy because his wife handles the finances. Interestingly enough, I too handle the finances in our household. Maybe it's because I'm the one with the finance degree, and maybe it's not.

And that, my friends is audio winning.

Do Your Ears Hang Low

The Audiophile has been experiencing an uncomfortable sensation in his ears of late. He is blaming it on his system's mid-range because an audio buddy came over with a Geiger counter, and that was the official verdict.

The interesting thing is my dainty upstairs system doesn't seem to fatigue his ears. I kindly suggested it was because I never tweak my system or replace any of the components or play it over 70dB. He responded by looking at me through his eye slits.

To be sure his ears were functioning properly, he decided to clean them with a concoction of hydrogen peroxide and several other household products that I recall using in elementary school science class to make a miniature volcano. Since he had not appreciated my two cents on the subject of why my system was superior to his, I decided not to pipe up with my concern about him fashioning Old Faithful on the side of his head. Instead, I dutifully assembled the requested ear-cleaning ingredients and quietly pulled up a chair to watch.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

The Happy Birthday Song

The Audiophile woke up this morning next to an older woman. She didn't feel old, and in the dark she didn't look old. Still, when those under 20 (and you know who you are) call those over 50 "old" it muddies the harmonics of the occasion.

This brings me to my semi-annual attempt to convince my viewing audience that I am real, I am a woman, I am married to The Audiophile, and I don't look a day over 49. So for those of you (and you know who you are) who continue to post comments on various audio forums about me not being me: Stop it.

To celebrate the release of wife 5.0, The Audiophile has taken me with him on a business trip to Chicago. While he is being a grownup, I'll be enjoying a self-guided tour at The Art Institute with the optional headset rental. Sure, those disposable ear buds won't attenuate the background noise, but they will provide me with abundant bits of tid including the fact that I am definitely not old enough to have posed for the American Gothic painting.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Dirty Laundry

A while back, The Audiophile added an acoustic feature to our laundry room. As with many modern-day laundry rooms, ours is located on the main floor, near the kitchen, for womanly convenience. This, of course, comes at the expense of manly sanity when a load of dungarees with pocket change is cranked up during dinner.

The Audiophile's solution, as you've probably guessed, was a very large sound panel. I can't tell if this has provided a less fatiguing laundry experience, but I have tried clapping like a maniac to test the sound stage, which serves, if nothing else, as a self-gratifying standing ovation.

The right thing to do would be to put The Listening Chair in there and run an A/B test with and without the panel. I'd need several demo loads of laundry to test all frequencies, and some graph paper to sketch the distortion spectrum. Who knows, maybe I'd be so impressed with the stereo image of the washer and dryer that I'd stop calling laundry a chore and start calling it a hobby.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Smart in a Stupid Way

The Audiophile's newest configuration of components has been problematic from my perspective. More often than not he opens the daily box that arrives from somewhere in the universe, usually Canada, goes to The Listening Room, fiddles around for a while, and reports one or more of the following: It ate a resistor. It ate a capacitor. It ate a vacuum tube.

Granted my memory is highly selective and increasingly unreliable, but in my whole life, I'm fairly certain none of the music players I've purchased have performed this badly. Until I was introduced to the magical kingdom of high-fidelity audio, I operated under the assumption that a successful purchase had been made if you bought a device, plugged it into a normal wall socket, pressed an obvious start button, and music happened.

Clearly this is why I'm a knuckle dragger when it comes to understanding why anyone would ever find this hobby enjoyable. Perhaps if I take a few graduate-level courses in marketing or some other field of study to which all the smart people gravitate, I too will begin to grasp the beauty of owning a collection of components that are highly volatile, regularly incompatible, and always hungry.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Let It Rain

The Audiophile and I will be immersed in the vocal glory of one of his girlfriends this weekend as she graces the Midwest on her Glad Rag Doll tour. I keep looking at the album cover with a sense of depressed admiration. Sister, seriously, it's hard enough for us common wives to compete with you vocally, now this.

I'm not sure what to wear to the concert besides a rain poncho, which is a non-negotiable item if you want to protect yourself from the spittle of middle-aged men shouting, "LOOK OF LOVE." Perhaps some form of dreadfully uncomfortable lingerie would be a nice touch under my turtleneck sweater as a goodwill gesture of my attempt to stay in the game.

In the end, there is no reason to compete with the mighty fine Ms. Krall. She has her talents, and we audio wives have ours. All that really matters is being completely devoted to our respective audiophiles, a heart-felt desire to lift our end of the sub-woofer, and the ability to feign interest in the modification du jour.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Points of View

The Audiophile has a thing about his feedback points or score or whatever it is Audiothong uses to rank its members' athletic abilities and good looks. If I had a nickel for every time he has referred to his apparently impressive score, I could make myself a suit of armor to be used as a decorative accent in our home. Sometimes I would be in the suit; sometimes not – The Audiophile would never know for sure.

It occurs to me that I should develop my own scoring system to promote desirable domestic behaviors. For example, if he matched his socks to his pants that would be worth 27 points. Or if he failed to flush the toilet that would be a negative 4,785.

If I could figure out a way to load my domestic tally into the Audiothong system, I'm pretty sure his concern for selecting the appropriate socks would rival his concern for carefully packing vacuum tubes and shipping CD players within six minutes of receiving payment confirmation.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Can't Touch That

Earlier this week, The Audiophile said, "I need to use your system to burn in some ICs." I slowly and methodically responded, "I seeeeee." He further explained that his system was presently indisposed and incapable of performing the task to which I again responded, "I seeeeee."

I was hoping for more dialog from him so I could repeatedly respond with, "I seeeee," until he embraced the beauty of my subtle, yet hysterical, sense of humor, but he instead missed the essence of the moment and proceeded to re-engineer my system to burn in his I SEEs.

The disc he chose for the burning in process has probably played through about seventeen hundred times and has likely re-engineered my brain for the worse. Sure, I could probably put in a different disc, but that would involve TOUCHING his CD player, and I'd rather be in need of a neuropsychologist than risk the consequences of crippling one of his rectangles with a distortion-producing fingerprint.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Song Dog

The Audiophile is continuing his conversion to digital, or computer audio, or whatever it is called that requires me to miss my daily class at the YMCA in order to sign for audio packages. These packages, mind you, rarely arrive during the time in which I could have been making a valiant attempt to maintain my less-than-girlish figure.

The new setup in The Listening Room is radically different. Many of the large rectangles have been replaced by smaller rectangles. This makes me happy and afraid. Happy, because smaller rectangles have a higher wife acceptance factor; afraid, because of what will surely need to happen if the smaller rectangles don't make him howl like a love-struck coyote on performance enhancing medication.

These days I'm listening carefully to his audiophile phone conversations in hopes of hearing him use some enthusiastic terms from his coyote-howling vocabulary. Because then, maybe then, I'll be able to spend less time carving my name into the grimy electronic clipboards proffered by FedEx and more time jumping up and down to the beat of fabulously distorted hits from the '80s.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Favorite Things

The Audiophile invited me to sit in The Listening Chair last week. He hoisted me up on a pillow so I would conceivably be at his listening level. Somehow, while I was balancing on the pillow, and trying to think about the music, I instead found myself considering the benefits of brown paper packages tied up with string and whiskers on kittens.

Fortunately, I was jolted back to reality, probably by God, because not only was I ready to make my assessment, but I knew exactly how I would describe the music even though I wasn't really listening.

When he (The Audiophile, not God) paused the track and asked for my opinion, I said with confidence, "It seemed like there was community among the vocals and the instrumentals in that they sounded incredible together and yet you could hear each one distinctly." The Audiophile thoughtfully stroked his goatee and replied, "Yeaaaah, I could see that."

That said, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Academy, God, and Julie Andrews for teaching me everything I know about high fidelity. But most of all, I would like to thank The Audiophile without whom none of these half-baked exaggerations would be possible.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Shower The People

It has come to my attention that some audio wives receive special gifts when their audiophile husbands buy new gear. Flowers, jewelry, and foot rubs have been mentioned as love tokens lavished upon the adoring women who do not complain about their husband's OCD.

I flipped back through the diary that I do not keep and noticed an absence of presents and favors. Clearly I'm doing it wrong. I am not sure where to sign up for this post-purchase pampering, but I'm hoping The Audiophile reads this and gets my order.

In the future, when something arrives in a small box, like tubes or interconnects, I'll gladly take a foot rub. If the box is medium-sized and contains a regular amplifier or a premillennial amplifier then flowers would be nice. If, however, a forklift delivers an item that requires my back-breaking assistance either up or down a flight of stairs, then I'm thinking a puppy of my very own would probably be the only possible way for The Audiophile to maintain his status as a gentleman among gentlemen.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Mixed Tape

The Audiophile has been selling, selling, selling now that he's convinced he no longer needs his old analog equipment. In order to accommodate all the boxing and shipping of gear, he took me on a date to buy packing tape.

The problem with packing gear is there is an audiophile code of conduct that requires all the tape in the nation be used to wind around and around and around the box until infinity. Every time he completes one of these ready-for-shipping masterpieces he presents it to me with the same look of achievement as my sled dog of yesteryear when he deposited the head of a small mammal near my back door.

If you, as an audiowife, are ever responsible for opening one of these tape bunkers you'll want to have your phone nearby with emergency personnel on speed dial, because the odds of getting into one of these babies without severing an artery are slim. The alternative, however, is busted gear so obviously a few days in intensive care is a small price to pay to avoid that catastrophe.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Basket Case

The Audiophile has decided to go digital. There have been plenty times in the past when he has said he is going digital, but this time he has purchased the necessary server, backup server, and backup to the backup server, so I am convinced he is really doing it.

The problem, as you who have gone digital know, is ripping the never-ending parade of CDs into digital format. This requires a reservoir of sanity that is typically not found in the average audiophile. Not that audiophiles are insane, but, yes, actually they are.

So far, I have successfully ripped 180 CDs, which leaves approximately one million hundred to go. At this rate, I would expect to lose my sanity sometime around mid April. You will know this has happened if I begin to obsess over the sonic accuracy of the telephone cord and hoist the washer and dryer up on Stillpoints.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Natural Woman

The Audiophile emailed me from the road this week with instructions to send some capacitors to a couple of people. This should have been easy enough, except one of the recipients seemed to be a woman. He gave me no information about this woman except her address, so I was forced to spend the better part of the day considering the following:

Are she-philes indigenous to Maryland? I don't know.
Are men ever named Colleen? Doubtful.
Rather than being an audiophile herself, is Colleen the best audio wife EVER? Maybe.
Are Duelund capacitors really the world's best? What?

I may never know the answers to these questions, but I performed my postal duties as assigned. Between that and ripping a good portion of The Audiophile's CD collection for him this week, I should be in second place, behind Colleen, for being nominated The Audiophile Wife of the Year.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Days Like This

It is well documented that The Audiophile has a one-sided bromance going with Van Morrison. He wants to vacation in Ireland where he fancies running into Van in some off-the-beaten-path pub that caters to aging musicians and their stalkers. For these reasons, I was not surprised this week to pull in the garage and hear Van gargling quite loudly from inside the house before I even shut off the engine.

It is also well documented that I have my own dainty system for my own listening pleasure on my own floor of the house, so you can imagine my shock and appall when I realized The Audiophile had queued up Van on MY system and was playing it loud enough to blow the topsoil off the garden we don't have.

I found The Audiophile downstairs, clad in his ever-so-sexy lighted magnifier glasses, working feverishly on some part of his own disassembled system. I don't know what was broken, and I'm not an expert in these matters, but I'm guessing maybe it had something to do with a blown subwoofer.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

If I Had A Million Dollars

The Audiophile has an interesting method of measuring the cost of something. If, for example, the SUV needs a couple thousand dollars' worth of repairs, he'll say, "I could have bought a pre-amp with that." Similarly, if he needs some dental work done, that might be the equivalent of, "I could have upgraded my interconnects with that."

I do not have my own method of measuring the cost of things. It doesn't occur to me to think, "Gosh, instead of going for groceries this week, I could buy an entire litter of puppies." Or, "Hmmm, if we didn't pay the utilities, I could add rhinestone belt loops to all of my pants."

On the upside, I suppose if I die first, and The Audiophile finds himself stranded on the side of the road with a broken-down SUV and rotten teeth, at least he will have a killer system waiting to console him if he ever makes it back to the house.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

T.B. Sheets

The Audiophile's flirtation with death continues, but that did not deter him from hauling a crate from the basement to the SUV. One minute he was shivering under a pile of blankets with vowel sounds as his only means of communication, and the next he was heaving his end of the crate up the stairs without regard to his spleen or mine.

This crate was particularly heavy. So heavy, in fact, that it caused me to think 666 evil thoughts as we inched it up the stairs and out the door. That I only verbalized four of these thoughts is a God-blessed miracle. If you have ever wondered who invented particleboard, the answer is: Satan, SATAN, I tell you.

The Audiophile and his dread disease then left for a few days on a business trip, which was excellent timing because it took me 48 hours to take the remaining 662 evil thoughts captive. All I know is the next time I say, "For better or for worse," I'm reading the small print in the contract so I know what the "worse" piece of that equation will entail.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Healing Has Begun

The Audiophile came home ill this week with a variety of symptoms including chills, headache, and general difficulty speaking above 25 dB. My only remedy for this and all other injuries is liquids and plenty of them. I made hot tea and homemade chicken noodle soup to which he sighed deeply and uttered a barely audible, "thank you."

Given my desire to stay above the weather, I tucked him in that night and tiptoed to the guestroom for my sleeping pleasure. I was a few pages into a book when I detected him having a healthy, animated conversation. I assumed he was delirious with fever, but then I distinctly heard him say, "You could always sell your pre-amp and get the Dude."

In summary, when an audiophile is on his death bed, the road to recovery is best charted, not by the administration of liquids, but through what is commonly known as audio banter. Now I know.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Share It Maybe

The Audiophile is back in the saddle after our glorious time in the sun. Aside from getting a fair amount of sand in our subwoofers, everything was excellent and praiseworthy.

Immediately upon our return, The Audiophile scheduled a play date with one of his local audio friends. He asked if I wanted to tag along.

I paused before responding to imagine the friend's wife and I escaping to the kitchen where we would enjoy warm chocolate chip cookies and cold glasses of milk. I could see us making pleasant conversation about the wife acceptance factor of the panel speaker and chuckling about the subtle differences in power cords. It was tempting.

In the end I politely declined, leaving that wife to enjoy the afternoon doing whatever she normally does during Audiophile Playtime. If she's like me, she retired to her private quarters with a good book and an embarrassing pile of cookies, grateful not to be in the A/B hot seat for a change.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Beach Baby

If all goes as planned, The Audiophile and I will be doing some basking at the time of this post. For purposes of clarification "basking," as defined by me, involves being immersed in the warmth of something other than vacuum tubes.

My goal for this vacation is to zipline my way through some Jatoba trees to ensure they have recovered from The Audiophile's amp-building project that required the sacrifice of one of their species. I can only hope there isn't a bounty on his head for the slaying, because his fear of heights mixed with the dodging of bullets would probably not be as funny as I imagine.

My other goal is to avoid any street vendors that deal in electronics. Sure, I had five years of Spanish back in the day, but I have no business trying to translate The Audiophile's wheelings and dealings over a some nuevo viejo tubes that he just can't live without.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Reunited

Several imaginary readers have inquired about The Audiophile's birthday and whether or not he read last week's blog in which he would have learned about his birthday gift ahead of time. The answer is no, he had not read the blog.

It seems he was waiting for an opportunity to politely correct the record about a post from several weeks back that may have wrongly implied that audiophiles do not clean toilets or decorate cookies or make lasagnas. After listening to his eloquently crafted concerns, I would like to publicly apologize for the hyperbolic inaccuracies and insubordination of said post. Furthermore, I would like to point out that audiophiles are superior in many ways including, but not limited to, their ability to take out the trash, clean up after dinner, hand wax the cars, and open a never-ending array of jars that have tight-fitting lids. 

In summary, audiophiles are just as good as regular people, and probably better, because they can also hear when the toilet has a leak, the washing machine needs to be re-balanced, and the cotton-picking furnace is running more than usual. 

And that, my friends, is audio winning.