Even an imperfect illusion trumps none at all
Whether or not the next generation is aware, ours will teach them certain skills. Around the house, my ambition is to send the three sons off with the knowledge necessary to lead their own lives without needing recourse to a specialist for the simple things. Doing the dishes, running the vacuum, installing appliances (learning not at the knee of the master, but together, mentor and student in an amalgam).
Our home cinema is progressing, now that all the speakers are assembled from the gardens of eBay. Speakers without wire are still at the concept stage; around here we have to run strands of copper from point to point to let the sound surround. And, since wires should be seen only when furniture has been dragged into the centre of the room, there is a need to drill holes and poke things up (or down). Lonely work on your own, but a barrel of fun when the kids are involved.
Right now, I’m rather one-eyed, which means that the insertion of a carefully stripped wire into the connectors on the amplifier and the speakers requires more than desire. My kids are quick learners, and they’ll need such skills in their own homes, someday, somewhere. We now have a primitive 5.1 situation; the stands for the other two speakers are enroute from Ontario. As well, the two DVD players have demonstrated their low cost in every possible way. Replacement will be very high on a list of things to do.
My first real sound test required an excellent film. American Graffitti is that. The subwoofer allowed me to believe that 60’s mufflers were little more than a sop to civil authorities. Dance music makes me want to dance. Sad scenes make me want to sob. That’s what home cinema is supposed to do, I think.
Over in the Idol kingdom, Matt Giraud has finally disarmed the ticking time bomb of the “judges’ save”. As Simon says, “Don’t be so quick to cheer: next week, two people are going home, and the theme is disco”. How do you prepare for that?
