Oh he don't know.. so he chases them to read.write.as
I've been down various audiophile paths for over 50 years. I've lost track of the number of times along the way I thought I'd hit upon a “final solution”.
But this world is a lot more about gadgetry entropy and/or obsolescence than solving my audio yearnings.
Oh, the combinations of discrete devices.. the digital solutions that never lasted, requiring endless re-conversions, re-getting files from one device to the next – complete with discovering inadequacies that kept screaming “how come no one else ever wants to do this the way I want to?”.
So now I've a few albums, but tons of CDs/DVDs, devices littered with <deity> knows what.
Many efforts to “put it all in one place”, to “archive” along the way... but, again, the entropy, little bits of slop amplified by forgetfulness.
The final solution became the guitar (and, to some degree, the keyboard). I hear mostly what I learn to play, the way I play it. Feels way less passive. And it was nice to see the cream (i.e. the songs I really like) collect and blossom into immediate joy so long as a guitar/keyboard were in reach.
> I know you're somewhere round about where I am
A little over 300 miles away to the north.
Nothing super overly dramatic. Power might have gone out once, but we're lucky this new place came with a “Generac” (sp?), which kicks in so fast that most of the electronic clocks don't even miss a beat.
It's been on the cool side, but I'm loving that at this age (60). Had it been 80F instead of 70F, I'm not sure I'd have lived to type this had yesterday's exercise in trying to trim down the trunk of a tree (we had felled in spring) with a chain saw. I don't know how many times I walked away convinced I was on the verge of a heart attack attempting to force the blank into that rather dense – and still sappy wet – hunk 'o wood.
The goal was to make it possible to place a circular, metal firepit boundary around the trunk.
I succeeded, but not without serious pain bleeding well into today – never mind having to restore the chain probably six times for it coming off at key junctures – not a fun endeavor for someone that doesn't enjoy things becoming above-average messy, which I didn't realize in advance would be unavoidable for a chain that's perpetually oiled by the chainsaw, meaning taking it apart and putting it back together involved becoming covered in oily blogs of wood chips.
Um, yeah.. overall. I'm missing my wife at the moment. She's over at the rental, showing it off to friends. I just didn't have the energy after yesterday, a day of mentally-intense software work, and varieties of chores.
It's funny (in a “coincidentally” sense): the way you describe living seems essentially where I was at after a failed marriage, then another failed relationship, leading to living with my brother for a spell. My existence was mostly confined to a bedroom there, sans possessions that wouldn't fit in my Honda Civic. So I was rather in the minimalism zone, forever in the hunt for digital replacements for what seemed like arduous real-world componentry.
So “suprise, suprise, suprise” (you know what that's from?) that I'd find your ongoing life account so, well, “just right”. :–)
My brother and I had a great time together in that period, though. Oddly, he bought the house off my sister, so it was already familiar. And wouldn't you know the motherfuck was locate directly across the street from where my high school girlfriend and her husband (who just so happened to be a best high school friend..) lived.
I think I interacted them just precisely once due to it being shrouded in discomfort for everyone. I mean, I didn't care personally, because I tend to find humor (per my tastes) in the like, but I could tell it was weird for them to be there, especially with their kids present....
<reaches for the last Newport>