For most of us, our stereo systems are lifelong investments.
We’re not casual buyers of commodities. Instead, we do our research, get advice, study the forums, speak to our friends, go to shows, and work hard at getting up to speed like savvy Wall Street players.
We rarely subscribe to collectives as a monied mutual fund investor might. Instead, we’re more maverick than the herd mentality of consumer audio. For us, the personal choices we make individualize our systems in ways unique to each investment.
And our investments pay off in ways hard to describe to others until they sit down in front of a reference system. Then, the magic of what we’ve crafted reaches deep into the souls of people with heart.
We invest in personal pleasure.
We’ll likely never know what happiness was to John Lennon but we can get a glimpse of his wry humor when he wrote the song Happiness is a warm gun. The title, taken from the cover of a gun magazine, was so outlandish he said, “I just thought it was a fantastic, insane thing to say. A warm gun means you just shot something.”
In our world of high-end audio happiness can come in so many different forms: finding a forgotten piece of music, installing new gear, relaxing with a glass of red wine to the serenade of a treasured album, cleaning a record, thumbing through rows of CDs, reading liner notes, appreciating all that we have.
Of all the day-to-day activities and interactions I have, I believe the closing of the door to the music room, the magical sense of that special place, the smell of the system, the moment the first note engages and the world melts away is what happiness is to me.
Sure, there’s plenty of other things that make me happy: a smile, a hug from my grandkids, the touch of Terri’s hand, finishing a long project, hearing a great story. But the consistency of the musical experience keeps me coming back for more.
Happiness is different for all of us.
What makes you happy?