The Man

The Audiophile has a thing for Van Morrison, and it is not a small thing. In fact, if Amazon.com peddled Van Morrison bed sheets and footie pajamas, they would be in our possession, and I would be asked to wear the footie pajamas even in the summer when footie pajamas are generally retired to the back of the closet with the penguins and snow mobiles.

Recently, The Audiophile went on a binge and read all the unauthorized biographies on Van. Then he listened to all of his CDs. Well, not all of his CDs, because although he owns all of Van’s CDs, it would take a short sabbatical and possible hip replacement to actually listen to them all.

To add a visual element to the marathon, The Audiophile queued up a concert video from the 1980s. In this video Van was wearing a mustard-colored shirt and pants that were so tight the audience was provided with sufficient anatomical information to enjoy both Van and his condiments.

On the final day of the binge, I took a light lunch to The Listening Room to keep The Audiophile alive, and he said, “Listen, listen, listen. Can you hear it? Can you hear the momentum of the music?”  Um, I don’t know if I "heard the momentum" or not, but I can definitely add that to the collection of recommended phrases for audio wives to use in securing audio favor with their audio husbands.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Endangered Species

There is a rumor circulating that suggests not all audiophiles are men. Since I have never seen a female audiophile with either my naked eye or my properly attired eye, I cannot yet confirm this truth.

The Audiophile has, on occasion, nonchalantly mentioned a she-phile who roams one of the forums on which he tithes his time. Naturally I assume he, and all the other audiophiles, plan to marry her as soon as their current wives die of mostly natural causes.

To illustrate the rarity of the she-phile, I thought I would select a member of the animal kingdom to be the poster child for this nearly extinct audio species. The animal finalists were the red wolf, the oxymoronic dwarf water buffalo, and the northern hairy-nosed wombat.

For charitable reasons, the red wolf won the contest. After all, she is the slender cousin of the common gray wolf and probably does not struggle with water-buffalo weight gain or nosey-haired hygiene complications. 

Now I have a new reason to eagerly anticipate our regularly scheduled visits to the audio store since, if I'm lucky, I may spot the Canis rufus in her natural habitat. I imagine she will be gracefully stalking the merchandise with a sense of purpose, as opposed to stumbling along behind her audiophile husband hoping not to accidentally break anything.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Start Spreading the News

This weekend audiophiles are gathering in New York for a thing at the Waldorf-Astoria. Their wives, from what I can tell, will be left to their own devices to find something entertaining to do in the city since there do not appear to be official spouse outings on offer.

The event does feature some educational sessions, however, including a World-Famous Turntable Set-Up Seminar. I would secretly go to that session if I were at the show, first because of the fantastic title of the session, and second because I could use my newly acquired skills at some point in the unexpected future to blow The Audiophile’s mind.

I also noticed booth space was available starting at $500. This seems a very reasonable price for someone (aka me) to set up shop with a sign that reads: Psychiatric help 5¢. The doctor is IN.

All proceeds from my booth would go to a charitable organization for the rehabilitation of audiophiles – both those who have been emotionally wounded by unappreciative family members, as well as those who have lost one or more of their faculties trying to rig a system that only dolphins and dogs could possibly appreciate.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

The Audiophile received a delivery this week. Since he was not going to be here for the delivery, I was given the standard instructions: 1) Inspect the box; 2) Document any damage to the box; 3) Have the delivery person sign their acknowledgement of the damage to the box.

I obediently nod my head every time I am given these instructions, and then I begin the countdown of dread because in my mind there are more steps including, but not limited to: 4) Apologize to the delivery person for the damage; 5) Tell them I’m sure it is not their fault; 6) Reassure them that a touch-up pen will probably be all that is needed to repair the damage to whatever is inside the box; 7) Offer them a muffin as a goodwill gesture for insulting them with steps 2 and 3.

These Sisyphean delivery people are not stupid. I’m pretty sure they know they are the victims of a never-ending audio tragedy that will have them shoving the same boxes up the same driveways for the rest of their lives.

Fortunately, the box that came this week was the seventh wonder of the corrugated world. I was able to perform step 1 and only step 1 which left me with the distinct pleasure of wishing the deliveryman well without the need for awkward apologies or condolence muffins.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Torn Between Two Lovers

There is an audio phenomenon that frightens me a bit. I don’t know if it involves the wrath of God or if it is a mere consequence of transacting business, but it seems as if the act of purchasing audio gear on an auction site can endanger the well-being of the audio wife.

Several times over the years, The Audiophile has sold an item, and been in a jolly good mood, only to receive a follow-up email from the buyer saying something like, “hey, yeah, im so sorry to have to tell you this, but my wife was just lifeflighted to the hospital. we are not sure if shes going to live and as you can imagine there is no way I can go through with this transaction right now.”

The first time this happened was disconcerting. The second time it happened I realized there are unforeseen planetary consequences surrounding the purchase of used gear. 

So, when The Audiophile buys something from one of these auction sites I try to be extra careful crossing the street until I know the transaction is complete because I’d hate for him to have to choose between holding my hand in the helicopter and staying behind to tidy up loose ends with minimally punctuated correspondence.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

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.

That One Bad Day - Part 2

There was an incident this week that caused The Audiophile to become ill-tempered and incapable of speaking for a short period of time. It seems he was in The Listening Room scrabbling around on all fours connecting and disconnecting the connecting things when he inadvertently knocked over one of the speakers.

Let’s take a moment here and thank The Lord God Almighty that I was more than two miles away from The Listening Room when the incident occurred.

The speaker that took the direct hit was formerly in pristine condition, but now it has a blemish that will require a furniture surgeon and divine healing to repair. Additionally, I noticed his pants had a conspicuous tear in a location that could have taken him from being a tenor to being a soprano. I don’t think it would be wise for me to ask if the two mishaps are related to one another, so I’ll just nurture the slow-motion picture I have in my mind of him sailing through the air in a valiant attempt to catch the speaker before it hit the ground at the five yard line.

Surprisingly, The Audiophile recovered from the incident fairly quickly. I don’t know if that is because he has found a ten-step program to process his audio emotions in an appropriate manner or if it is because he has decided it is time for new speakers. Either way I, by the grace of God, was more than two miles away from The Listening Room when the incident occurred.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

I Got You Babe

Last Saturday I was blessed with another field trip to an audio store.  This particular store dealt exclusively with a line of speakers that comes with a unique feature.

I am embarrassed to admit this, but at first I thought the unique feature was a high-tech maraca – which is a very cool idea if you ask me. However, upon closer inspection I determined the maracas were, in fact, attached to the speakers and not maracas at all but rather microphones.

Karaoke has never appealed to me as a means of entertainment because of the Las Vegas odds of it being a positive experience, but I was thinking if audiophiles wanted to indulge themselves in a little Sonny and Cher action in the privacy of their homes, then who am I to judge.

That being said, I was squinting at the microphones wondering exactly how they slid out from the top of the speaker when I was interrupted by The Audiophile who shattered my little dream with, "Those are the tweeters."

Oh. Tweeters. Of course. I didn't tell him this at the time, but The Audiophile saved me from performing a classic "testing... one... two... three..." sound check that would have been difficult to gracefully recover from without deploying an "I'm just kidding" lie or going all the way with my half of a karaoke duet. 

 And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Hanging Wallpaper

There are a number of home-based projects that various authorities have deemed to be a true test of marriage. I don’t know if there is an official list of qualifying projects, but if so, I would like to submit the following for addition to the list: building a sound panel.

Last weekend, I thought I would be able to safely curl up with a book written by dog that enjoyed auto racing. Instead, The Audiophile politely suggested we build a sound panel. I politely suggested he purchase one from his favorite mafia-controlled website. He counter-politely-suggested that building one together with our bare hands and raw intelligence would be more fun.

May I further suggest that the dude who originally said, “Measure twice; cut once,” was pretty much a genius.  I imagine he also would have known to wear gloves when working with fiberglass panels in order to prevent microscopic shards of glass from being embedded in his knuckles.

Raw hands and bare intelligence aside, we managed to complete the project in under four hours, and the upholstery job looks almost professional. Best of all, we did this without raising our voices above 79 dB or jousting each other with the 1x2's.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Big Babies

A while back The Audiophile and I were enjoying a weekend trip to a heavily-populated city which, if I'm lucky, guarantees a visit to the local stereo shop. Par norm, I was wandering aimlessly about the store thinking about how high one could stack boxes of components before they would crash to the ground in a suicidal melee, when I overhead The Audiophile and the proprietor having an animated conversation.

The discussion centered around drivers and whether they could handle the load. Now, correct me if I'm wrong here, but with all the fuss about NOT TOUCHING the drivers, I'm thinking these namby pamby babies won't be able to handle ANY load because they ARE a load.

Of course, I did not shot-put my opinion into the conversation since it would have betrayed my appearance of chocolate-covered patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Instead I wandered off to one of the listening rooms to see if I could hold Tree Pose until the conversation ended.

In the end, my yoga practice was cut short because The Audiophile wanted my professional opinion on the wife acceptance factor of a pair of speakers that were, in my estimation, absolutely gorgeous. I do not know if there is any fame or fortune to be made in offering my seal of approval, but I should probably have some stickers made up just in case.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.