It Was The Left Of Channels. It Was The Right Of Channels.
Finding out that I was roommate non-gratis for CES 2006 was a real bummer. Apparently, I've "slept" with most of our writers and the words out. I snore like a Klipsch. No matter, I'm going, and I'll probably stay at a hotel of my choosing all by my lonesome. Tell the truth, that's the way I prefer it. Nothing beats parading around your hotel room with your Blackberry, sans pantalones.
Welcome to my blog. What, pray tell, were you expecting? Before delving into the theater, I'm dealing with some other realities, like the old two-channel room. A decade ago when I was smitten with the writing bug, I did all my listening and writing in a room we euphemistically referred to as our "office." Waxing poetic from my perch down low on an Eames-style chair (or as we referred to it, the E.T. chair, because it looks like something that would have fit the little guy), the room was inspirational and ranked high on the Manteghian's entertainment list. Guests were always wowed to hear the latest in tube amps from Conrad Johnson, Audio Research and VTL. "Do they still make tubes?" Yeah, you bet, and they still do. Records were spun, discs were played, huge speakers were put on display. All in a room that came dangerously close to the dimensionally dreaded acoustical square.
But time marched on, and I with it. Not far, just across to the other side of the house where the family room slowly morphed into the home theater. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the computer age had arrived and Daddy's little playhouse turned into homework central ostensibly (more like IM central if you ask me). It didn't take long for my monkeys to trash the place. Pretty soon, the desire to enter the office was countermanded by the desire to not.
Fortunately, a confluence of events has brought about a rethink on the office. First, our oldest of three children, the unstoppable Laura, graduated from college in Boston last May and moved back home. Now she's going to law school here in Connecticut, so she needed a place that she could call her own. Second, my younger daughter, Monica, has committed to an out-of-state college for the next four years, so her needs, vis-a-vie the office, are nil. Finally, my soon-to-be 15 year old son Gregory very clandestinely moved the final reason-d'etre for the room, the Dell PC, up to his bedroom. God bless wireless. The room was emptied, painted, re-carpeted and - not refilled. Most of the crap went into the garbage or the attic, depending on whether or not we wanted to throw it away now or leave it to our heirs to do so. What did make it back in were the two couches, a new desk and chair from the Bombay Company, and, of course, my stereo.