Wife trouble


I am having trouble with mine also. What about a swap?
128x128stanwal

Showing 1 response by inrock

stanwal and colleagues --

I enjoy and learn from the audio blogs, but seldom post.  However, your earnest revelation of being kicked out of the house and recurrent blog posts about cohabitation problems induced by audio products leads me to offer the following lessons learned.

At the risk of sounding preachy, I offer the following advice as a man married to the same woman for over 46 years.  Regarding purchases, full prior mutual disclosure is the best policy.    Over the years, my passion for vintage baseball cards, music recordings, and audio equipment has been a source of pleasure  and guilt.  I rationalized my covert spending  splendidly, on the premise that I was entitled.  I also kept a mental inventory of her (ahem!) frivolous purchases.  I stashed cash and acquired cashier's checks, and orchestrated shipment deliveries, so my wife (who has always managed our joint accounts) "wouldn't know". 

Well, guess what?  As a person of intellect and high sensory capability, she knew.  About 20 years ago, as we began to seriously plan our future "life priorities" bucket list that included activities, items, and finances as a couple, we came to the realization that it was stupid to conceal, mask, or confess after-the-fact purchases.  Since then, we talk to each other before making major purchases.  Admittedly, I don't necessarily understand why she needs more jewelry, high-end hand bags (which I mistakenly call purses), or clothes.  But then, she doesn't truly comprehend why I need a new amplifier, speaker, headphone, or set of cables.  And the truth is it doesn't  make much sense to belabor the merits of these material items.  Invariably the conversation ends with "Go for it!", "Let's hold off on it!", or "Is this more important than [fill in the blank]?" 

In the end, mutual full disclosure -- in advance -- seems like the "adult" thing to.  Plus, I can truly enjoy my new Golden Ear Triton One loudspeakers when they are drop shipped on my front porch.  I still have to carry the 85 pounders by myself up a flight of 15 stairs to my music listening and memorabilia room, but I don't wrestle with guilt or a loss of trust, or have to spend energy concocting why these two humungous boxes on pallets are blocking our front door.  Peace!