Yes, that's why I wrote this:
Once upon a time, there was an audiophile, although some would call him an audiophoole. One day, as he (it's almost always a he) was out shopping for new audio equipment (something he thought about a lot) he came across a unique audio product known as the money onion. Now this money onion could only be purchased with said purchase tied to his bank account. The money onion worked like this, any time you wanted to hear an improvement (something the audiophile wanted badly) in sound, all he would do is peel back some of the money onion, and as layers of money were shed off from his bank account, the sound got better and better!
Finally, the audiophile realized he never had to buy another audio product ever again! All he had to do was take layers off the money onion and voila, sound improvement! But sadly, there was a flaw in using the money onion--it's center could never be reached!
The audiophile stripped layer after layer, and as he did, his bank account got smaller and smaller, but somehow it didn't matter to him that he would never get to the center of the money onion, even though in his heart of hearts he longed for what reaching the center would sound like. Audiophiles would even call this the "phantom center", for obvious reasons.
In the mean time, there was that thrill every time a layer was removed. Each improvement in sound was so fulfilling, he wanted to tell all his non audiophile friends, did you hear that! Wow! Fantastic! But they didn't hear what he was hearing and scoffed at his waning bank account. Only his audiophile friends knew what he was talking about, but they had their own money onions and seemed immersed in their own layers being removed.
It was in this way that the money onion brought a tear to the audiophile's eye. There was something about the sound, THE SOUND, THE IMPROVEMENT OF SOUND! LAYERS!
Yes, the money onion was considered by many to be the greatest single audiophile product ever made--until they came out with the money onion II.
But that's another story.
This parable is well-done and clever and funny (phantom center - ho!), and I know it's both a constant lament and regular joke shared among audiophiles at their own, yes, expense. But, at the risk of curmudgeonly side-stepping the joke, I think its moral disregards or mischaracterizes the study and pursuit of gear as an endeavor unto itself. I know I'm repeating myself, but few I've met seem willing to acknowledge or admit to this seemingly less noble, less, call it spiritual, more materialistic side of the hifi hobby. Take these forums for example. While they're a pragmatic source of information, they're also rewarding just to read and participate in (for some), and that is a pastime separate from, though clearly connected to, listening to music. This coincides with study or research in general. It's fun and instructive to learn about gear, even gear you may never own. And there's a very real gratification in learning how something works, how ultra-linear vs triode vs SET works (none of which I pretend to grasp, though I still enjoy reading about them). Again, this is connected to, but separate from the enjoyment of music. I also think, for the sake of the joke, it renders audiophiles in a more compulsive light than they truly deserve. Do we spend more money on hifi than people not interested in such things? Of course. But people spend money on all sorts of things that others would consider extravagant to the point of, at the very least, idiocy: golf clubs, cars, motorcycles, art, shoes, Hummel figurines. And, while I know we love to make much of our profligacy, all the audiophiles I've met and talked with can either well-afford the hobby or, full of regret, spend within their means. I've yet to meet an audiophile compulsive in the same sense of a compulsive gambler, spending his wages, savings, life insurance policy, children's college fund to support his habit. I suspect more audiophiles shed tears for what's beyond their reach than at having reduced themselves to penury. Lastly, the gear. The stuff. The material goods. The pleasure taken in the objects themselves, even when they're sitting silent. The pleasure and satisfaction in ownership. The Money Onion presupposes none of those things matter or are viable, fully rewarding concerns and pursuits in themselves. I, for one, and maybe I'm the only one, had I the chance to improve my music via the Money Onion (or even the Money Onion II), I'd turn it down. The Money Onion robs one of searching through, looking at, buying, bringing home or having delivered, and, finally, owning all that lovely gear.
I fully realize I'm the guy spoiling the joke by needlessly explaining it or questioning its logic - you can imagine how fun I am at parties - but I do wonder at all the protestations that these pursuits are finally an audiofool's errand, and of the need to get off the merry-go-round or to stop chasing one's tail, and to simply sit and enjoy the music. I do! I listen! I swear it! That doesn't mean all the other parts of the hobby can't be, if not an equal (though there's no reason why not an equal) than a tremendous, legitimate source of satisfaction and gratification. Of course, if those aspects of the hobby no longer bring you any pleasure, then it makes perfect sense not to do them. But the characterization of those aspects other than the listening - the reading about, the gear searching, the forums, the tube rolling, the cable swapping, the gear changing - to describe these things as tail chasing and merry-go-rounding seems to me to do them an injustice and to obviate their legitimate pursuit and rewards. I suppose someone who's grown up and put away such childish things might say I protest too much. It's an impossible charge to defend. I've only been at this for 12 years or so. Check back with me in 20 years and maybe I'll have changed my tune.
Josh
