Original Sin

The origin of an important word occurred to me a while back when I was half listening to The Audiophile while he was on the phone. He was having an animated conversation with another audiophile about cable. Yes, cable. Always with the cable.

I could not help but wonder if Eve, when half listening to Adam, ever found herself wondering why Adam was so enchanted with some of the seemingly unimportant things in the garden. Like the dirt, perhaps, as he muttered to himself about the quality of the soil in the garden OF EDEN, for heaven's sake.

Anyway, I was thinking that Eve, being the perfect wife except for the snake incident, probably supported Adam with his endless musings on the nature of the dirt. That is until the day she overheard him saying something about spending half of their annual salary for new cables, I mean new dirt, at which point Eve probably dropped a pantload. Except since she wasn't wearing pants, it immediately became known in the garden as Eve's droppings. And, yes, there you have it, the origin of the word eavesdropping, which, as Eve quickly learned, is NOT a good idea.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Cable Guy

One of the most difficult situations to navigate as The Audiophile's Wife is what I call the one-two audio punch. It is where the "How does it sound?" is directed at a new set of cables. It is hard enough to hear the difference in new speakers, or amps, or pre-pre-pre-amps, but cables? Dude, I may look a little canine first thing in the morning, but the similarities stop there.

So, here's what I'm going to do some time when I have nothing better going on, like tomorrow or any of the days after tomorrow. I am going to take six spools of thread from my sewing basket and three pointy paper cups, which I intend to heist from the dispenser at the YMCA. I will smuggle these accessories into the master bathroom. Stay with me here, this is an all-ages show.

The plan is to strategically place the spools to support the cord of my curling iron so the cord never ever touches the countertop. After I successfully do that, I'm going to balance the curling iron itself on the paper cups (pointy end down). As you might imagine, this will require patient endurance and may cause a house fire, but that's why we have replacement-value life insurance. Then I'm going to call for The Audiophile, and when he arrives, I'm going to say, "Well, Mr. A/B, do I look prettier?"

And that, my friends, is audio winning.