Not long ago, The Audiophile wanted to take a drive. Sure, I thought, we’re at the stage of life where a Sunday afternoon drive is just what the gerontologist ordered. Thirty minutes later, we pulled up in front of The Candy Man’s house, which meant our nonchalant drive in the country was actually premeditated entrapment.
In case you have not been following along, The Candy Man deals in chocolate-covered audio rainbows with sprinkles. And nougat, if you’re into that kind of thing.
Front and center, in his audio emporium, on conspicuous display, was a Ferrari-red integrated amplifier that was four wheels short of becoming its own mode of transportation. Now, when I say this thing was Ferrari-red, I mean its naked chassis had tootled over to Maranello, Italy where it shimmied onto the conveyor line between a pair of equally naked supercars. On the count of three, everyone held their breath and waited for it to rain Rosso Corsa.
Apparently, there is a market for this sort of crazy, and I was beginning to wonder if The Audiophile had finally crossed over to being certifiably insane when he signaled for me to write a check to… purchase a set of cables sheathed in a completely normal shade of normal.
Obviously, this was a classic psychological half-nelson transaction because I would have bought just about anything to steer clear of owning an amplifier that shouted, “Hey there, hot mama,” every time I made an omelet or steamed some broccoli.
TAW
