Are You Passionate?
I went out to dinner this week with
an old friend (an industrial designer) and one of his old friends (a lawyer), who
is not an audiophile. The subject worked its way around to a sore point with my designer
friend: a deadbeat client who was refusing to pay him $500 for some work he'd done.
"The irony is," he said, "the company sells
loudspeakers that cost more than $25,000/pair." (For yes, dear reader, he was talking
about a high-end audio manufacturer, as shocking as that may be to your refined
sensibilities.)
"Wait a minute," said the lawyer. "You mean
to tell me there are loudspeakers that cost over 25 grand?"
We assured him that there were -- although they weren't
exactly common.
This got us on the subject of haute couture, Swiss-built
watches, fountain pens, high-performance cars, vintage wines, and, of course, high-end
audio. The fact that each of these commonly available (and chiefly commoditized) objects
inspires some people to extremes just didn't make any sense to him -- nor, I suppose, did
the fact that I could make my living writing about hi-fi. (Actually, it still surprises me
-- so I'll give him a Mulligan on that one.)
But he was a nice man, and didn't tell me that it all
struck him as rather silly. Instead, he asked me to define the price extremes of a pair of
really good loudspeakers. "What's the most you could pay for a pair of
speakers -- and what's the least you could pay for a pair that anybody would say were
pretty darn good?"
I stipulated (hey, he's a lawyer) that over $100k/pair
should represent our upper limit, but that $5000/pair bought you some very serious
loudspeakers -- and most speakers selling for $2000/pair would probably put anyone other
than one of us picky audiophiles in musical ecstasy.
"In that case," he asked, "why would anybody
spend even $10,000 on a pair of speakers?"
I felt the blood rush to my face and opened my mouth to
retort. It stayed open for a minute, until I remembered my manners. He wasn't really
questioning the validity of my obsession. He didn't share it, of course; he didn't even get
it. He wasn't dying to, but he was truly curious. How could I explain it?
I asked if he liked music.
"Sure -- not the stuff my kids listen to, but we go
out to the opera and I listen to CDs."
Okay. Had he ever heard a system that made him feel
the music better?
"You mean like getting hit in the chest?"
No, although given all the boom cars driving around, who
could blame a non-audiophile for thinking that's what we mean when we say "feel the
music"? I wasn't doing very well at this. I cast frantically about for common ground.
Inspiration struck. "What's your passion?"
"Sailing, I guess."
"I suppose there's quite a range in price between a
'pretty good' mass-produced sailboat and a high-performance model. I don't mean a luxury
model with gold-plated fixtures, but one that actually sails better or faster."
"Oh yes, quite a huge range."
Could he perceive a difference between a boat that was
satisfactory and one that was really, really exceptional?
Of course he could.
I don't sail. I grew up in the foothills of Virginia, and
until I moved to Brooklyn, I'd never lived out of sight of some mountain range or another,
so boats are a mystery to me. But here's the crux of the biscuit: Could I tell the
difference between a pretty good boat and a good 'un?
"Maybe not. Probably not, unless you liked sailing
enough to want to."
And then, because he was a smart guy, he got it.
This lawyer probably won't ever be an audiophile, but I
probably won't ever be a sailor -- or a race-ready driver or an ace guitarist or a
world-class technical climber. None of these things is inherently rational or noble or,
perhaps, even all that interesting -- except to the extent that our passion for them makes
them so.
It really is all about the passion.
...Wes Phillips
wes@onhifi.com
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