Friday, February 25, 2022

Yellow Ledbetter

Sometimes The Audiophile talks with his voice on a phone to people—mostly audiophile people. This is my cue to curl up with a good book and a cup of tea tea tea, which I like to say in triplicate because of how much joy it sparks in my life life life.

Last week, The Audiophile had a victim on speakerphone, and I say “victim” because that automatically makes that person fair game for me to quote even if I do not have a forged permission slip from their mother or mine. This audiophile to whom he was speaking said, “Oh my gosh, IT will totally get the grunge out of your system.”

Reh-heh-heelly? I don’t know what IT is, but I find IT interesting that The Audiophile has managed to purchase, position, reposition, replace, reconfigure, and rearrange a system over the course of his life life life but still manages to have unwanted grunge in it.

Furthermore, on behalf of Soundgarden, Nirvana, STP, Pearl Jam and, specifically, Eddie Vedder Vedder Vedder, I say let’s leave IT alone and see if we can’t come to a mutual understanding of the benefits of grunge when it comes to this fancy-pants system of ours.


Friday, February 18, 2022

Careful With That Axe, Eugene

Following an independent survey of one audiophile, I am here to report the most common warning put forth by every audiophile is: Do not touch the drivers.

Imagine my confusion when I left the house with a pleasant farewell that went something like, “Love you—buh bye,” only to return a couple of hours later to find The Audiophile knee-deep in a crime scene. All four of the Fyne Young Cannibal drivers had been ripped out of the cabinets and strewn about the place like an M. Night Shyamalan psycho-audio thriller.

I thought about screaming or calling for emergency backup or checking to see if M. Night was still on the premises so I could personally confirm whether he is as easy on the eyes as M. Gardot. 

None of the aforementioned was necessary because…

The Audiophile turned in my direction…

And asked me to…

Wait for it…


During this plot-twist of a lifetime, I placed several of my most important fingers on the very very edge of each driver while The Audiophile put some screws in the screw holes to rectify the Humpty Dumpty situation. 

So basically, I’ve been promoted. This hasn’t come with a pay raise, and I’m still not allowed to touch the drivers whenever I want, but if you patiently wait for all the credits to roll on our feature film, you’ll see The Audiophile’s Wife listed as the key grip right before the catering company, which, ironically, also happens to be The Audiophile’s Wife.


Friday, February 11, 2022

Put A Ring On It

Sometimes, to relax before falling asleep at an hour I used to deem ridiculously early, The Audiophile and I will watch a bit of edutainment via the YouTubes. One of the newer channels in our arsenal is The Audiophiliac so I can see his haute couture.

Trust me when I say the guy has a serious shirt collection that undoubtedly keeps all the single ladies tuned in on a regular basis. Recently, The Audiophiliac made reference to his zippidy-do-dah shirt and informed his viewers that Mrs. Audiophiliac had made it. Hard. Stop.

There is a MRS. Audiophiliac? AND SHE MAKES SHIRTS?

I went to The Googler and pecked in “The Audiophiliac’s Wife.” Boom, there she was, on her very own episode being introduced to the world wide web like some sort of rock star or opera diva. Whatever the case, she is gracious, smart, ridiculously talented AND she’s clearly an audiophile who demurely pretends not to be an audiophile—and to that I am sending her my slyest of smiles and a virtual high five.


Friday, February 4, 2022

The Story

Once upon a time last week, The Audiophile went away for a few hours. In his absence, I was granted legal permission to listen to music all by myself. As soon as I heard the garage door close with a nice bassy thunk, I queued up one of my favorite artists. She has been described as a living legend and is backed by twin brothers who regularly dress alike because it’s still mighty mighty cute.

This was my first solo date with the Fyne Young Cannibals, and I didn’t want to come across as overeager. Thankfully, the remote control broke the ice with a wink and a nod in my direction. I casually walked over like it was no big thing, and timidly tapped the up arrow on the volume one time. The FYCs responded with courteous applause, so I clicked the up arrow a few more times—okay, quite a few more times—and… they… sounded… AWESOME.

Fear not, I kept an eye out for smoke because I have been pedantically informed that “burning in new gear” has nothing to do with starting stuff on fire. And I kept a partial ear tuned to the frequency of the garage door so I could dial things down before The Audiophile walked in and found his system encouraging me, nay, daring me to shred my acoustic air guitar and sing, that’s right, SING along with the music.


P.S. You are awesome; I am awesome. Click here to join me in drinking decent wine. (You and I will both enjoy $50 off.)