Friday, April 5, 2013

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 Many of the large rectangles have been replaced by smaller rectangles.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.