The Best I've Ever Had

Last Saturday I was lured to The Listening Room to offer my opinion on the newest amp. This particular amp was one-third the cost of the previous amp, which gave it a higher WAF before he even plugged it in.

Surprisingly, The Audiophile and I agreed that the sound was significantly better than that of its pricier predecessor.  I volleyed terms like "warm, genuine, and transparent" about as if I were an appropriately clad outside hitter for team USA. At one point, The Audiophile turned to me and declared, "This album has never sounded better."

Although I should be pleased with that statement, I know what it really means. It means he will now need to swap out all the other components along with the drywall, area rugs, and door hinges to see if he can coax even more perfection from the perfectly tuned, perfectly priced, perfectly wonderful amplifier, because "leaving well enough alone" would strip The Audiophile of his title and perhaps even his manhood.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Night Fever

The Audiophile suffers from a form of stereo insomnia. It comes over him when he is buying and selling equipment and seems to be exasperated by the site that I lovingly refer to as Audiothong.

Audiothong, from what I can tell, entices people to place advertisements on their site for a nominal fee. What they don't tell you is you will feel the need to revisit the site every twelve or thirteen minutes to make sure your ad hasn't stopped breathing, gotten tangled in its blanket, or lost its binky.

It is best not to make conversation with The Audiophile when he is buying and selling because although he appears to be making partial eye contact, I've learned he is actually calculating shipping charges and imagining himself packing and unpacking gear with confetti coming down from the ceiling and dancing girls doing the can-can at a safe distance from the components.

Sometimes, especially after midnight, when I can hear him pecking away at the keyboard I think about creating my own Audiothong account. I would buy all the stuff he lists, I would pay his full asking price, I would accept his proposed arrangements for shipping, I would gladly use Paypal, and I would complete all transactions prior to 9:00 p.m. so both of us could enjoy a good night's sleep.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Till Death Do Us Part

The Audiophile has been crisscrossing the country again to provide abundantly for the family. This leaves me and my electronic sister wives to fend for ourselves.

I prefer to think of myself as the younger more fertile wife in the harem, but I'm afraid that is simply not the case. The object of The Audiophile's deepest desires these days is The Amp. The one he is building with his bare hands, that is. The one for whom upgraded parts arrive on a regular basis leaving the rest of us wives to sooth our sagging positions with extra chocolate rations and BBC dramas.

The Amp, in my opinion, is more of a Stepford wife than a sister wife. This means I should probably refer to her as The Audiophile's Wife since, if I understand the Stepford concept correctly, she will ultimately be called by my name and will assume the writing of this column in my stead.

That said, if at some point in the future the tone of this column loses its convivial irreverence and becomes uncomfortably submissive, please contact the authorities and suggest they have a look-see in the "empty" original boxes in our storage room.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Like A Surgeon

A while back The Audiophile took apart his speakers. I thought we were not supposed to touch the speakers, but apparently it is perfectly acceptable to rip out their insides and dump them in a box.

Furthermore, it is permissible, although I'm not convinced it is beneficial, to fire up the power drill and bore holes into the back of the speakers. If I understand this barbaric procedure correctly, the idea is to relocate the speaker guts into a pair of custom-made, Jatoba boxes in order to, say it aloud with me: Improve the sound quality.

I'm sure this will lead to a listening event in which I will need to convincingly say I detect a HUGE improvement in the sound quality, but until then I'm investigating how I might outboard my bladder for a more comfortable experience during the high-impact portion of my aerobics class.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Pandora's Box

The Audiophile was away on official business last week, which put me in charge of many things outside the scope of my formal education. At the top of the list, of course, was the acceptance of corrugated parcels.

The winner of this week's box competition was an item from the Pacific Northwest, which had the most impressive display of postal stamps I've ever seen in my life. I tried to count all the stamps, but when the tally staggered into the thirties, I realized there was no chance for statistical accuracy and retreated to the kitchen for a tasty snack.

Oddly, The Audiophile seemed far more interested in the contents of the box upon his return. I tried to instigate a lively conversation about the stamps, but the tiny American flags were simply no match for the explosive looking thing in the box. And now that I think about it, if the Federal Bureau of Investigation ever interrogates me about suspicious deliveries to our address, I'm going to be more than a little chagrined.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Land of Confusion

Although I am a highly focused person, the concentration train often leaves the station during an A/B session. Last week, I was instructed to sit and stay in The Listening Chair, which I obediently did like a well-trained Labrador awaiting an edible reward. The problem was getting the leash on my thoughts:

Okay, I can do this. I can tell the difference between A and B. Here comes that plucky part where the bass kicks in. We are out of soy sauce, my foot itches, and I forgot to water the flowers. Shoot, I missed the bass part, but I think B was pluckier than A. Is pluckier a word? Of course it's a word. What time is it? Dark o'clock, that's what time it is. Uh oh, he's turning the music off, just say B was pluckier and hope for the best, no, not pluckier, say it was weighty, no, woolly, no, congested, no, thick, no...

"Well?" The Audiophile said as he waited for my muzzy analysis. Ummm, it seemed like the bass in B was more clipped than A. "YES," he bellowed while patting my head, "Because the power of the subwoofers relative to the power in the splockenheimer was whakka whakka whakka..."

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Cat's in the Cradle

The Audiophile has been going through the celebratory mourning that is to be expected when the last child leaves the nest. On the one hand he misses the pitter patter of the little feet, and on the other hand it took him less than 24 hours to completely dismantle the child's art room and convert it into a fully-functioning workshop.

His goal is to build The Imaginary Amp. I am calling it The Imaginary Amp because I imagine it will consume all of his proverbial free time. I imagine it will cost more than a real amp by the time he orders and reorders all the necessary parts. And I imagine it will be our sole topic of conversation until the amp is finished or I die.

Not that I have anything better to do until I die, because if I did this blog would be titled The Super Cool Woman's Guide To Super Cool Stuff That Has Nothing To Do With Amps, Pre-Amps, or High Fidelity.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

She Moves in Mysterious Ways

Once upon a time someone posed the question, "How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" Along with this seemingly unanswerable question, I asked myself how long it would take The Audiophile to notice if I stopped beavering away at my blog.

Perhaps I choose an unfair time to conduct my scientific study because The Audiophile has been more highly occupied and distracted than usual and making time to read something other than audio forums could, understandably, fall to the bottom of his to-do list.

His current pursuit is to build his own amp with those always bare hands of his. In keeping with his resourceful ways, he has found a free online class to give him the necessary understanding of electronics to avoid burning his personal toast during the construction process.

In summary, I still do not know how much wood can be chucked by a woodchuck or whether or not The Audiophile can build an amp, but I do know precisely how long it took him to notice my online absence.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Unchained Melody

In looking back at previous posts, I feel I own an apology to subwoofers. Sure they have been the instigators of several injuries and one near-death experience, but I have come to value their contribution.

The reason for this turnabout centers on a recent A/B session with The Audiophile in which he added a new rectangular item to the harem that does something with the ohms and impedance. I do not know anything about ohms or impedance, but I do know the rectangular addition turned the subwoofers from galloping stallions into prancing show ponies.

The Audiophile politely suggested my ears were immature and had grown accustomed to rumbling background noise. I politely replied that in my estimation, five out of five normal listeners would rather have their breath taken away by rumbling stallions than to have their wingtips polished by ponies.

In the end, it looks like the new rectangle is here to stay, but I suspect if I place my bets carefully, I’ll be able to convince The Audiophile to disconnect the thing once in a while so I can have the unbridled experience that only the immature ear can fully appreciate.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Hurts So Good

This week involved a new game show called, “Let’s make our own cable.” Unlike most game shows, this one did not offer much in the way of prizes, but it was somewhat educationally tedious.

What I learned about solid-core copper wire is that it is exactly like regular wire except it has super-hero powers to do something important as it relates to resistance, inductance, and incapacitance. What The Audiophile learned about solid-core copper wire is it leaves memorable blisters on your fingers when you attempt to braid it without wearing gloves.

The cable project took several days and required intense concentration. There was some soldering that followed the cable project, and it also required intense concentration. During this time, I became fluent in The Audiophile’s concentration language. 

One short grunt means, “Yes.” One long grunt means, “No.” And a series of grunts interspersed with quiet cursing means, “I’ve broken something, how would you like to go on date to the hardware store?”

And that, my friends, is audio winning.