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from too many cigarettes. I could hear every note, every breath, every hesitation, every smile and every tear. I was right there at the concert, in the booth at the recording studio, on the stage. And then, I lost my fix. See, I had met this man. He was the audiophile. I got hooked. I could hear it all. There are actually trade shows for people with this penchant for recorded audio. He would take me to them. Wed sit in a room, Id listen for about three minutes, whisper to him the weaknesses of the system, and wed leave; very rarely would he ask the company being represented for a brochure. We did that through twenty floors of a Newport Beach hotel one day. But I left him, so I had to for financial reasons turn my back on tubes and analog, solid state and digital. Then, I decided to put my resources into having children, so that clinched the question of my return to the world of amps, preamps, and woofers. Now, when I look at my three beautiful children, my choice brings me joy. When I listen to a CD, I ignore the little and glaring imperfections of the system I use pretty much just a collection that my husband and I put together. But when I close my eyes, I pretend. I pretend that I have an ear infection and am sitting right in front of the stage. That I went swimming that morning and the water is making the music sound muddy. You know, it doesnt work. I miss the music, the sounds. I know I made the right choice a wonderful husband and three children, rather than a man who put all of his interests above my needs. I do miss it, though. Maybe hell leave it all to me in his will. Until then, I can pretend. AUTHOR: TAGS: Entertainment work time money Music world BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount |
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