Favorite Things

The Audiophile invited me to sit in The Listening Chair last week. He hoisted me up on a pillow so I would conceivably be at his listening level. Somehow, while I was balancing on the pillow, and trying to think about the music, I instead found myself considering the benefits of brown paper packages tied up with string and whiskers on kittens.

Fortunately, I was jolted back to reality, probably by God, because not only was I ready to make my assessment, but I knew exactly how I would describe the music even though I wasn't really listening.

When he (The Audiophile, not God) paused the track and asked for my opinion, I said with confidence, "It seemed like there was community among the vocals and the instrumentals in that they sounded incredible together and yet you could hear each one distinctly." The Audiophile thoughtfully stroked his goatee and replied, "Yeaaaah, I could see that."

That said, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Academy, God, and Julie Andrews for teaching me everything I know about high fidelity. But most of all, I would like to thank The Audiophile without whom none of these half-baked exaggerations would be possible.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Shower The People

It has come to my attention that some audio wives receive special gifts when their audiophile husbands buy new gear. Flowers, jewelry, and foot rubs have been mentioned as love tokens lavished upon the adoring women who do not complain about their husband's OCD.

I flipped back through the diary that I do not keep and noticed an absence of presents and favors. Clearly I'm doing it wrong. I am not sure where to sign up for this post-purchase pampering, but I'm hoping The Audiophile reads this and gets my order.

In the future, when something arrives in a small box, like tubes or interconnects, I'll gladly take a foot rub. If the box is medium-sized and contains a regular amplifier or a premillennial amplifier then flowers would be nice. If, however, a forklift delivers an item that requires my back-breaking assistance either up or down a flight of stairs, then I'm thinking a puppy of my very own would probably be the only possible way for The Audiophile to maintain his status as a gentleman among gentlemen.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Mixed Tape

The Audiophile has been selling, selling, selling now that he's convinced he no longer needs his old analog equipment. In order to accommodate all the boxing and shipping of gear, he took me on a date to buy packing tape.

The problem with packing gear is there is an audiophile code of conduct that requires all the tape in the nation be used to wind around and around and around the box until infinity. Every time he completes one of these ready-for-shipping masterpieces he presents it to me with the same look of achievement as my sled dog of yesteryear when he deposited the head of a small mammal near my back door.

If you, as an audiowife, are ever responsible for opening one of these tape bunkers you'll want to have your phone nearby with emergency personnel on speed dial, because the odds of getting into one of these babies without severing an artery are slim. The alternative, however, is busted gear so obviously a few days in intensive care is a small price to pay to avoid that catastrophe.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Basket Case

The Audiophile has decided to go digital. There have been plenty times in the past when he has said he is going digital, but this time he has purchased the necessary server, backup server, and backup to the backup server, so I am convinced he is really doing it.

The problem, as you who have gone digital know, is ripping the never-ending parade of CDs into digital format. This requires a reservoir of sanity that is typically not found in the average audiophile. Not that audiophiles are insane, but, yes, actually they are.

So far, I have successfully ripped 180 CDs, which leaves approximately one million hundred to go. At this rate, I would expect to lose my sanity sometime around mid April. You will know this has happened if I begin to obsess over the sonic accuracy of the telephone cord and hoist the washer and dryer up on Stillpoints.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Natural Woman

The Audiophile emailed me from the road this week with instructions to send some capacitors to a couple of people. This should have been easy enough, except one of the recipients seemed to be a woman. He gave me no information about this woman except her address, so I was forced to spend the better part of the day considering the following:

Are she-philes indigenous to Maryland? I don't know.
Are men ever named Colleen? Doubtful.
Rather than being an audiophile herself, is Colleen the best audio wife EVER? Maybe.
Are Duelund capacitors really the world's best? What?

I may never know the answers to these questions, but I performed my postal duties as assigned. Between that and ripping a good portion of The Audiophile's CD collection for him this week, I should be in second place, behind Colleen, for being nominated The Audiophile Wife of the Year.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Days Like This

It is well documented that The Audiophile has a one-sided bromance going with Van Morrison. He wants to vacation in Ireland where he fancies running into Van in some off-the-beaten-path pub that caters to aging musicians and their stalkers. For these reasons, I was not surprised this week to pull in the garage and hear Van gargling quite loudly from inside the house before I even shut off the engine.

It is also well documented that I have my own dainty system for my own listening pleasure on my own floor of the house, so you can imagine my shock and appall when I realized The Audiophile had queued up Van on MY system and was playing it loud enough to blow the topsoil off the garden we don't have.

I found The Audiophile downstairs, clad in his ever-so-sexy lighted magnifier glasses, working feverishly on some part of his own disassembled system. I don't know what was broken, and I'm not an expert in these matters, but I'm guessing maybe it had something to do with a blown subwoofer.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

If I Had A Million Dollars

The Audiophile has an interesting method of measuring the cost of something. If, for example, the SUV needs a couple thousand dollars' worth of repairs, he'll say, "I could have bought a pre-amp with that." Similarly, if he needs some dental work done, that might be the equivalent of, "I could have upgraded my interconnects with that."

I do not have my own method of measuring the cost of things. It doesn't occur to me to think, "Gosh, instead of going for groceries this week, I could buy an entire litter of puppies." Or, "Hmmm, if we didn't pay the utilities, I could add rhinestone belt loops to all of my pants."

On the upside, I suppose if I die first, and The Audiophile finds himself stranded on the side of the road with a broken-down SUV and rotten teeth, at least he will have a killer system waiting to console him if he ever makes it back to the house.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

T.B. Sheets

The Audiophile's flirtation with death continues, but that did not deter him from hauling a crate from the basement to the SUV. One minute he was shivering under a pile of blankets with vowel sounds as his only means of communication, and the next he was heaving his end of the crate up the stairs without regard to his spleen or mine.

This crate was particularly heavy. So heavy, in fact, that it caused me to think 666 evil thoughts as we inched it up the stairs and out the door. That I only verbalized four of these thoughts is a God-blessed miracle. If you have ever wondered who invented particleboard, the answer is: Satan, SATAN, I tell you.

The Audiophile and his dread disease then left for a few days on a business trip, which was excellent timing because it took me 48 hours to take the remaining 662 evil thoughts captive. All I know is the next time I say, "For better or for worse," I'm reading the small print in the contract so I know what the "worse" piece of that equation will entail.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

Healing Has Begun

The Audiophile came home ill this week with a variety of symptoms including chills, headache, and general difficulty speaking above 25 dB. My only remedy for this and all other injuries is liquids and plenty of them. I made hot tea and homemade chicken noodle soup to which he sighed deeply and uttered a barely audible, "thank you."

Given my desire to stay above the weather, I tucked him in that night and tiptoed to the guestroom for my sleeping pleasure. I was a few pages into a book when I detected him having a healthy, animated conversation. I assumed he was delirious with fever, but then I distinctly heard him say, "You could always sell your pre-amp and get the Dude."

In summary, when an audiophile is on his death bed, the road to recovery is best charted, not by the administration of liquids, but through what is commonly known as audio banter. Now I know.

And that, my friends, is audio winning.

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.