In my August column, page 43, just before I have a blast with the $400/pair Definitive Technology StudioMonitor 45 loudspeakers, I discuss a few letters I’ve recently received from readers, asking if I’m satisfied with reviewing “lower-end” gear.
The big difference between car audio and home audio, explains WIRC Media's Micah Sheveloff, is car audio’s need to overcome ambient noise. In fact, to a large extent, it’s this simple requirement which dictates a system’s overall design. In the case of the Caprice, the system had to have enough power to overcome the car’s custom-built 2.25-inch stainless dual exhaust.
By this point in our conversation, Micah has already apologized for the noise a number of times.
“Let’s listen to the system for a bit and I’ll see if we can find some good roads,” Micah suggests. “Ready?”
I really love the comments tool, but I wish it would notify me of when new comments are left for old blog entries. Because it doesn’t, I have to scroll through each entry and check. This isn’t such a big deal, but it does mean that I’ll miss a few comments every now and then, or that it’ll take me a few days to get around to them. And that’s not cool because web-time flies.
Just to be clear: I never felt imprisoned, or controlled, by my television. We had enjoyed a harmless, casual relationship. My television never told me what to do, never told me who to associate with; my television never judged me, never questioned my motives; my television gave me my space when I needed it. It had been a good television, for the most part. Sure, sometimes it could be obtuse or aloof with its poor reception; sometimes it seemed like it didn't want me to watch the Mets game on Saturday afternoons. But, all in all, I liked television. I still do. It's just that I like my turntablemore.
I won’t be in the office tomorrow. I’ll be down in Hunterdon County, NJ, helping a very good friend set up a very special hi-fi system. This is bigBIGnews, but I can’t say anything else about it yet.
Last Friday was an interesting day in the office. No one was here, but Ariel. Robert Baird was whooping it up at the South by Southwest festival in Austin, Texas, and John Atkinson and I would soon be on the road. It was the first day of spring, and snow was falling like mad.