Guido,I am so relieved that we can talk about this openly and sensitively. My name is Phil and I have DAC. My Dad had it too. He had tube gear that he built himself and a bozak speaker (tweeter suspended in the middle of the midrage driver) installed in the door of his bedroom closet, with a 15" woofer installed in something the size of a dish washing machine. He kept muttering: Infinite baffle, infinite baffle. My poor Mother. My poor neighbors. Dad would play his system at realistic levels. Being an engineer, (read: original propeller heads) he played a test record with a train comin' on down the tracks. One of our neighbors apparently made a mess of himself when he stood up suddenly upon hearing said train coming through the wall of his bathroom. The shame of it! This was a decent, middle-class neighborhood. Yet, how I loved Sunday mornings when my father would blast his classical music. We were eating downstairs in the kitchen, but the sound was at concert levels.
Guido, I know there is no hope for me (I have an order with Alex, that evil modder and facilitator of our sickness, that self-promoter who dedicates himself to this work by sleeping but a few hours a night and then has the unmitigated gall to be proud of his work!). I can only hope others escape this terrible fate. I hope to pass my remaining days in audio nirvana, but a shell of my previous virile, aggressive, unhappy self.
Phil
Guido, I know there is no hope for me (I have an order with Alex, that evil modder and facilitator of our sickness, that self-promoter who dedicates himself to this work by sleeping but a few hours a night and then has the unmitigated gall to be proud of his work!). I can only hope others escape this terrible fate. I hope to pass my remaining days in audio nirvana, but a shell of my previous virile, aggressive, unhappy self.
Phil
