Share It Maybe

The Audiophile is back in the saddle after our glorious time in the sun. Aside from getting a fair amount of sand in our subwoofers, everything was excellent and praiseworthy.

Immediately upon our return, The Audiophile scheduled a play date with one of his local audio friends. He asked if I wanted to tag along.

I paused before responding to imagine the friend's wife and I escaping to the kitchen where we would enjoy warm chocolate chip cookies and cold glasses of milk. I could see us making pleasant conversation about the wife acceptance factor of the panel speaker and chuckling about the subtle differences in power cords. It was tempting.

In the end I politely declined, leaving that wife to enjoy the afternoon doing whatever she normally does during Audiophile Playtime. If she's like me, she retired to her private quarters with a good book and an embarrassing pile of cookies, grateful not to be in the A/B hot seat for a change.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Beach Baby

If all goes as planned, The Audiophile and I will be doing some basking at the time of this post. For purposes of clarification "basking," as defined by me, involves being immersed in the warmth of something other than vacuum tubes.

My goal for this vacation is to zipline my way through some Jatoba trees to ensure they have recovered from The Audiophile's amp-building project that required the sacrifice of one of their species. I can only hope there isn't a bounty on his head for the slaying, because his fear of heights mixed with the dodging of bullets would probably not be as funny as I imagine.

My other goal is to avoid any street vendors that deal in electronics. Sure, I had five years of Spanish back in the day, but I have no business trying to translate The Audiophile's wheelings and dealings over a some nuevo viejo tubes that he just can't live without.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Reunited

Several imaginary readers have inquired about The Audiophile's birthday and whether or not he read last week's blog in which he would have learned about his birthday gift ahead of time. The answer is no, he had not read the blog.

It seems he was waiting for an opportunity to politely correct the record about a post from several weeks back that may have wrongly implied that audiophiles do not clean toilets or decorate cookies or make lasagnas. After listening to his eloquently crafted concerns, I would like to publicly apologize for the hyperbolic inaccuracies and insubordination of said post. Furthermore, I would like to point out that audiophiles are superior in many ways including, but not limited to, their ability to take out the trash, clean up after dinner, hand wax the cars, and open a never-ending array of jars that have tight-fitting lids. 

In summary, audiophiles are just as good as regular people, and probably better, because they can also hear when the toilet has a leak, the washing machine needs to be re-balanced, and the cotton-picking furnace is running more than usual. 

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

The Girl In The Other Room

The Audiophile celebrates his birthday this weekend, and that means a gift is in order even though he says he wants for nothing. Since I have no business buying him anything for The Listening Room, I ordered him a pair of concert tickets to see one of his girlfriends.

At this point, the savviest among you have realized I have publicly announced his gift ahead of time making this yet another test to see if The Audiophile is still reading my blog. Not that he has to read my blog, because I would never use that as a means of measuring his love and admiration of my typing skills.

These concert tickets, by the way, are good but not so good that Ms. Krall will see him slack-jawed and drooling from her piano bench. Which will assuredly be the case if she is wearing the same outfit that she's sporting on the cover of her most recent release.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Winter Wonderland

It's that time of the year when The Audiophile enjoys extended periods of time in The Listening Room. Listening, as you know, is an art form that requires special powers of concentration and immobility. Here is a helpful Q&A to assist audio wives in navigating the holiday season:

Should an audiophile frost cookies while listening to a system?  No.
Should he wrap packages?  Definitely not.
Clean toilets?  Bad acoustics, no.
Prepare a lasagna?  No.
What should an audiophile do while listening to a system?  Nothing. 

The more important question is, "What should an audiophile's wife do while an audiophile is listening to a system?" In my personal experience, she should cheerfully frost the cookies, wrap the packages, clean the toilets, and make the lasagna. And then, in order to remain cheerful and altogether fabulous under circumstances such as these, she should blog about her heroism.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Electric Avenue

The Audiophile, as you know, has been building his own amp with his bare hands. In anticipation of turning on the amp for the first time, he took a long-handled wooden spoon from the kitchen. He told me he was going to use it as a way to distance himself from the unit and thereby reduce the chances of killing himself when he flipped the switch.

Now, because we are practicing to be old and feeble, we typically go to bed sometime between 8:00 and 9:00, even on the weekends. This allows us to watch some news about the economic end times before we call it a day. So you can imagine my concern when I awoke at 2:00 in the morning, realized I had dozed off, and further realized The Audiophile had never come to bed. Naturally I assumed he was dead.

I padded down the stairs very quietly, sniffing the air for evidence of his demise. I slowly opened the workroom door, fully expecting to find his charred remains still clinging to the handle of the smoking wooden spoon. Instead, there he was, alive and well, doing what he loves while happily inhaling the recommended daily allowance of soldering fumes.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Hickory Dickory

Three things were noteworthy about the packages delivered for The Audiophile this week. First, there was only one package delivered, which was concerning in itself. Second, the lone package was unusually small. Third, the package was alarmingly light weight. So light, in fact, that the only thing that could possibly have been in the very small box was a mouse, most likely a dead one.

I called The Audiophile at work to report my concern, to which he responded, "It's cable." To which I responded, "No, it's not." This, of course, led to a classic round of marital YES-it-is. NO-it's-not. YES-it-is. NO-it's-NOT, because even though we're no longer terribly delinquent, we are obviously still juvenile.

When The Audiophile came home that night and opened the dead-mouse box, I'll be darned if there wasn't cable in the coffin. Silver cable, that is, which was daintily coiled up in some tissue paper. I have no idea what silver cable must cost, but if it replaces some of the dead-snake cable currently molting in The Listening Room, then I'm on board.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Light My Fire

Recently there was a conundrum regarding The Audiophile's priorities. It seems there was a filet of salmon that needed to be grilled at 5:45 on a Tuesday, and there was a "five-minute" phone call to another audiophile that also needed to be made at 5:45 on the very same Tuesday. Usually this sort of mathematical story problem doesn't rear its ugly head in real life, but the already steaming kettle of broccoli was driving the train that day.

Now, I'm not looking for a show of hands, but I am suggesting that 99.7% of audiophile wives would know that salmon grilling should supersede audiophile phone calling when broccoli is part of the equation. Why? Because the odds of a "five-minute" audiophile-to-audiophile phone call are as statistically improbable as listening to "just one song."

Fortunately, even though I am not a man, I possessed sufficient testosterone to open the lid of the grill, place the salmon on the grill, and close the lid of the grill. The heart-healthy meal pulled into the station at precisely 6:00, which coincided perfectly with the culmination of The Audiophile's (5 x 3 = 15 minute) phone call.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Songs From The Big Chair

When The Audiophile wants me to come to The Listening Room for a demo, he plays my special song. This song is by Alison Krauss, and I call it "The Bird Song" even though I doubt that is the song's God-given title.

A couple of weeks back, I heard The Bird Song wafting upstairs, and I scampered to see what needed my immediate attention. Even with my limited abilities, I could see The Audiophile had moved The Listening Chair much closer to the harem. He gestured for me to have a seat.

After the bird had flown, I sat up as straight as possible in the man-sized chair and said, "Well, everything sounded much bigger, less restrained, and more like a live concert."

The Audiophile beamed, and he may have wet himself a little. All I know is he replied, "YES, YES, YES, that is what we call 'near-field listening,' and you have a good ear." At the time, I didn't know what to say, but in hindsight what I should have said is...

And that, my dear, is audio winning.

Money For Nothing

The Audiophile and I were in the garage recently where we conscientiously deposit our shoes before entering the house. As I removed my beloved Dansko's that were purchased in 2007, I pointed to the heel of the right shoe for him to inspect where it had given way to the underbelly. He briefly glanced at the shoe, turned to me with a baffled look, and said, "It doesn't look worn out to me."

With this statement, The Audiophile clarified his decision-making processes. If the item under consideration is an amp, pre-amp, power conditioner, pair of speakers, capacitor, cable, or any other item remotely related to any of the aforementioned items, then "wear and tear" is not used in the evaluation criteria when purchasing a new one.

To my credit I did not punch The Audiophile in the gullet or call him a nincompoop. Instead, I followed his example of conspicuous consumption and ordered myself a new pair of Dansko's in Arabesque leather. When these shoes arrive I expect they will make me taller, happier and, if I'm not mistaken, much more transparent.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.