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Inmate Central, where civil and family-friendly discourse about off-audio topics (other than religion and politics) is welcome.

We were making some audio related plans that I feel I have to

pursue, simply because we had spent a lot of time discussing and doing the research on racks, ceramic fuses, and DIY power cords, among other things.

I was excited, he was excited, and we both knew we were in a bit of a race. I wanted to get the rack designed and shipped to him so he could have some time using what I think is a "turntable friendly" support. One of the few perks he had at his job was getting things shipped.

Bruce was obviously ill, but he's an audiophile and music lover. "HIS" Beatles had to be reproduced in the very best manner. I had sent him a lot of Jazz LP transfers and he was getting into Jazz more deeply than he'd ever done before...hell, he got ME listening to Beatles again!

Sharing is as much a part of Bruce as simply breathing is to most folks. He had discovered how great LPs are, was listening to his Beatles LPs (the few he had left) and some hacked ones I'd sent him, plus more LP to CD transfers of mono Beatles I own. He was thrilled with having a turntable again.

He took care of his customers, he took care of his friends. It was dangerous to say, "I really need..." because the next thing you knew there were ICs or speaker cables, or power cords or (not so simply) answers to your questions and needs.

The audiophile Bruce was no different from the friend. His laugh rings in your ears because he sees so much humor in so many places others wouldn't. The two of us laughed throughout the last 5 years +/- at the stupid things that happen to you when you're ill. Mistreatment by doctors, mistreatment by life and we laughed at things like me avoiding the fact that congestive heart failure IS, not was; that to climb steps with tubes going in and out of your body may not be the best idea; checkout counters are one of the greatest sources of fun.

He'd call while shopping and I'd listen to the checkout clerks doing and saying some incredibly odd things..."Did you want both of these?"

"Those belong to the lady behind me."

"You don't want them then?"

That was not a rare circumstance.

Working while suffering from pain and fatigue...most would have been in bed. Driving home after dealing with the crap he had at work he'd call and I'd tell him, after he was done bitching about being in traffic for hours, "I was in a horrid traffic jam at the top of my street! There were 5 cars in front of me! I had to wait for well over a minute before I could turn onto Warm Spring!"

That drove him nuts.

He'd drive those roads to take care of a customer. I remember him pulling his preamp out of his own system so one would have a working preamp for a get-together the guy was having. Driving two hours to take gear to a guy who'd mistreated his gear repeatedly.

Well, he'd better not try to connect his preamp incorrectly again...Bruce is not going to bother taking care of his stupidity.



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Music. Window or mirror?


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