About the good life: That fame thing is a little overrated. After a couple of weeks all you want is some time to read a good book or listen to the gear. But do you get the time? Noooo. All those women hanging around the pool want to be "entertained". The cell phone won't stop ringing, appear here, appear there (for free, ha!), read this script, read that script, be seen with (insert name here). Then some guy warms up to you and "wants to hang with ya". Yeah right. He wants to hang with my babes and get some proof he was here.

And then the gear. Just want some decent sounding gear and a quiet moment to listen. The minute the system is fired up all the girls wander in from the pool and want it loud so they can party all night. They don't give a hoot about quality. They throw their wet(!) suits all over the new speakers. And is one more of them "mounts" my expensive speaker cables and thinks it is a joke, she is outta here.

Then the tempature drops a few degrees and I find wet bodies sitting on the monoblocks. No respect! And no more jokes about the Vifa XT25. If I hear "tell me, which one would you rather have?" one more time I will let the ugly truth out. And it is no more funny if you line up four or five than with one.

So you invite some "friends" over for a little jam session. You would think these guys have been on the road long enough to know the difference between road gear and home gear. Someone always thinks they can plug in and crank the home gear. I mean, we have a room for these occaisions. Back in the 60s there was respect. Remember Eric Clapton's garden? All the great songs were written with a single acoustic instrument.

Then you have to have these parties. If you don't the rags all start dis'n you about being a recluse or mean or hiding something. You are either in the melee or out. In the money or out. So you lock the gear room with all your latest toys in hopes of saving some part of your life. You head that way in the morning only to find the place a wreck. Turns out someone "unlocked" the room last night at 8:00pm and it was used as the "press free zone" all night. Oh the smell! And of course someone always forgets a date or two and *guess* who has to find their owners? As if I don't have enough cleaning to do.

Most of you have never had a call like this: "Bob? yeah Joe here. Listen, someone forgot their date here last night an I am trying to locate her home. About 5'8", medium blond, usual body. . . umm . . . hold on. . . yes, natural blond. No I don't remember what she was wearing. Name? Umm, you know their names? I *am* impressed. . . No? You all accounted for. . . Hmm. . . Any ideas? Yeah, I just put her out by the pool and she seems to get along. If she stays much longer we'll have to find some clothes and maybe some food. At least she is coherent. But someone has to be missing her. OK, I'll try Bill."

So if only one could get away. Just a middle of the road system with a couple of hundred CDs and some key LPs. A quiet little house with small rooms and no echo. The lust for something better to keep the light burning. And the time to search for the perfect album. . .That my friends . . .is the good life.


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Copyright Peter Jay Smith 2005 Return to helarc.com