Is this an invite?
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Happy 4th Nrchy, After your last listening session with the door-2-door insurance salesman, I was hoping this might be the one with the plumber. Something like "From the moment I saw the crack in the moon extend from the rear of his low riding wranglers, I knew this fellow would enjoy Henry Mancini - Moon River with me on my rig". Maybe next time?
wid Chadlinz, waste of time....what is point of this?....Friday I mow lawn and take cat for walk. Then I drink soda and take nap. Phone ring and salesman try sell me long distance service. I tell him no thank and take off list. Take cat for more walk then read paper. Toilet at 4 then drink Martini and watch news. More Martini then take cat for flying lesson over bush. Wife shout, not like it when I kick cat. More Martini and take dump. Wake up saturday and all start over. Exciting or what>?
Nrchy, Another good story. I'm telling you--as a man who has taught and been a student of literature for 30+years--you have some talent. This one reminds me a little of the old Melville story "Bartleby", recently made into a movie, where a man is given a job in an office but proves incompetent. When the boss asks/tells him to do something, Bartleby replies, "I would prefer not to". Even when he is fired and told to leave, he says, "I would prefer not to". He dies at the end and goes to "sleep with kings and counselors".
I guess this thread points out the humorously challenged among us!
Papertrail I have no talent, everything anyone writes anymore has been done already, some people just hide their plagarism better than others! I'm just having fun.
Never read Bartleby, but it sounds like fun. I've really grown to appreciate the humor of earlier Dickens the last few years.
Nrchy, I tell my students that there are two ways to be original---1}Write, paint, etc. about a new subject, or 2}Write about an old subject in a new way. You have accomplished the latter. It's probably the only way to be original. All music comes from 7 basic notes and a few variations there of. Amazing.
The next Equipment SHOOT OUT should be held at Nrchy place. I could here the stories now on how a double blind test was conducted by 12 blind Audiophiles and how they scratched a number of his rare prized LPs. and then on the 7th day after listening to a Eagles hell freezes over XRCD their eyesight was restored!! Everyone was overjoyed a celebration was in order!!! Food, Booze, a cake and replacement LPs for Nrchy was ordered. Everyone was so happy to see who they had been taking to and to see the equipment they were using, many commented on how beautiful the face plate on the amp was. This was a real time to celebrate and just as the candles where being lite on the cake, Someone from the back YELLED out did someone turn the Gas off on the stove!!!!!! A neighbour was heard saying how there was Music coming from there all day and further commented on how great the Music sounded ,but the last song was so CLEAR he must have got the QUADS running again. I can still hear it playing in my head!! Asked what song was playing the neighbour said it was an Eric Clapton tune " Tears in Heaven " !!!!
Yea, fair enough hah. I still think it's a load of crap when I get refused service though. I shall await your story with particular interest!
I had a long talk with the cases. They didn't want to leave. They said they had built a home in your garage, and raised little bebe cases for little bebe Kharmas to get shipped in, and they had grown up to ship Midi Grands. The Ceramique cases were proud of their accomplishments and just wanted to be empty nesters, leave the garage on weekends for their cottage on the lake and otherwise not be bothered. I mean, you have to look out for the interest of the cases, really. What kind of horrible person would I be to meddle with the American Dreams of Dutch immigrants, right?
But the truth is, I am an inconsiderate bastard. So I hopped in my blue Audi and rolled through a bunch of 4-way stops and came to your house and stole the cases late at night. I am holding them in my closet which has a fine view of city center.
This took place a number of years earlier, and is in response to several requests for more, and a few 'cease and desist' commands.
I lived for a short time in Springfield Missouri a couple of years ago. While I was there I encountered the must unusual experience of my Audiophile life. Though sworn to secrecy I relate it now. I was never really much for swearing anyway, it’s just too vulgar.
While I lived there I met the brother of a lady with whom I had struck up a friendship. Through the course of time I had the opportunity to visit his home, and hear the system he had put together. As he was a tube lover, I did not know much about his specific gear other than by name, but I asked the right questions, and we got to be friends too. It was soon after this that he began to mention an Audio Club of which he was a member. Without appearing to be overly anxious I began to invite myself to this club. Eventually he caught on and invited me too.
I remember it clearly when Rob called to invite me on a specific day. It was either a Tuesday or Thursday, or maybe it was over the weekend.
“It’s a pretty casual affair.” he instructed, “You’ll want to wear a sportcoat, and dress shirt, but never a tie, at least not any of the ties you own.”
When the day arrived I was waiting anxiously in my apartment. After an hour, I called Rob to see why he had not arrived to pick me up yet. “Oh yeah,” he responded “I forgot about that. I’ll be over in an hour or so. I have to stop at the menswear shop and buy something expensive.” With that he hung up, and I stood wondering if I would look absurd in my herringbone jacket from Sears.
I was so excited I didn’t hear the knock at the door when Rob arrived. He used his key and woke me up. Rob was wearing a plaid, yes, plaid, sportcoat with a crest on the pocket, black trousers, and some kind of shirt that I’ve never seen before. I was nonplused.
“I have to explain something to you.” Rob said as we rode in a rental car to the meeting. “When we’re at the meeting, the guys will call me Robert, and some of them haven’t exactly got my last name right.”
“What do they call you?”
He looked a little sheepish, “Robert Wainwright”
“Wainwright, how did they get Wainwright from Smith?”
“Just a misunderstanding, happens all the time. Just the same, if you could call me Robert Wainwright, that would be best.”
I didn’t understand, but agreed.
We rode down Kearney, turned right on Gladstone, went over the railroad tracks and turned right into an industrial area. We parked in front of what looked like a warehouse.
“This is it?” Rob, er, Robert nodded and led the way through a rough door, across the room and up a set of concrete stairs. We went up several flights, went out a door, across the roof, jumped to the roof of the next building, in another door down some stairs. We walked across an empty room with broken windows and took a freight elevator to an underground room. I was startled to find myself in a large, beautifully appointed room. The walls were of real hardwood paneling, like one might find in an English manor, or a PBS special. On the back wall was a huge wood fireplace. In spite of the fact that it was August in Springfield there was a fire blazing.
Robert led the way to a sitting area. There were several people spread throughout the enormous room. In the distance I could hear what sounded like a Mozart string concerto. But I’ve never listened to classical music so I wouldn’t really know a Mozart string concerto. The people were huddled in small groups chatting, or drinking single-malt scotch. An elderly gentleman was passing among the others with a tray, dispensing drinks from a decanter. I asked Robert what he was serving, he told me all they served was single-malt scotch. I asked if it was good, “Are you kidding, it’s so old you can see a dust cloud over the glass when Edward pours, it’s awful. Everyone hates it, but that’s what audiophiles drink!”
I watched and sure enough, I could see the men grimace as they sipped the stuff. Robert led the way to a darkened area of the room. The system was setup on some kind of space-age looking rack made of stainless steel, wire, a rubbery looking compound, and something that looked like Nutella. Long cables ran to a pair of tube mono-blocks with outboard power supplies, which in turn ran to a monstrous pair of speakers. I rapped the cabinet with my knuckles to get a feel for their dampening characteristics. It sounded like I was hitting myself on the skull. I felt a lump sprout immediately. As a walked back to the rack to observe the electronics, a gentleman approached. I was relieved to see that it wasn’t Edward with that fowl swill. A familiar looking man approached with outstretched hand.
“Jamen Huntley-Hunt,” we informed me, “I’m in silver. He gave Robert a nod, and took it back as fast as he gave it.”
“Nrumph Krrummchs.” I mumbled, and I, of course was in... the market... for a better job. The man looked at my sportcoat, and looked back at me like a person does to someone they have encountered by change but do not want to ever see again. It was then I realized why he looked familiar. He sold me my silverware at Kroger’s. He left as quickly as both of us wanted him to go.
“This is really quite a system,” I said admiringly “I’ve really wanted to hear some of this stuff, but never thought I’d have a chance.”
Robert took as seat not far from the system, and gazed at it appreciatively.
“Those are Electro Harmonix KT 88's in the amps, aren’t they?
“Electro Harmonix KT 88's, hmm, seems like a good choice.” he replied in a thoughtful voice.
“Has the group ever considered trying some better 6550's, or even KT 99's?”
“Huhhh, wellllll, 6550's.” he repeated in an almost meditative tone. I have never seen him act like that. “KT 99's...” he said from a distance greater than our chairs.
“I have a friend who swears by Mullards.” Robert scratched, or fondled his chin. “Muullllards.”
“Hey Rob... er, Robert, do they take new members here?”
“Huh, what, new members, of yes, all the time.” He gestured toward an old stiff in an armchair and said “Why Simpson joined just in... 1993, I think it was.”
I looked around the room and heard faint discussions about fourth order crossovers, single ended triodes, phase array, and cryogenically treated silver coated copper cable. In the background, the string concerto flogged on. It felt like home.
“Well let’s listen to some music. I brought a couple of CDs” I suggested. Robert recoiled in horror. “No one listens to music here. They hold music in such high regard that none of them have ever listened to it!”