The problem has not been solved.
I’ve been listening to a lot of compact discs lately. It’s okay, I guess. This situation, I mean. No, it’s actually really bumming me out. I want to listen to my vinyl records. I went for a long walk a couple of weekends ago and thought about life and took some pictures and stopped at Target and bought an ultrasonic humidifier. Being “ultrasonic” and all, you’d think it’d be quiet. But, no. It’s fairly loud.
(Then again, maybe it’s so much louder than I realize. Maybe that sound I’m hearing is just the purr of billowy wings as my guardian angels swoop in and lead me from frustration to better times.)
If I place the ultrasonic humidifier in my bedroom, it keeps me up at night. So I tend to keep it in the kitchen, with its little mist nozzle aimed in the general direction of my living room, where the music happens. Or used to happen. There is nothing in the owner’s manual pertaining to the ultrasonic humidifier’s mist-propellant distance of efficacy. I mean, how far from my hi-fi should I keep this thing? Isn’t there something I can just spray on my turntable to make it sound right again? Some magic mist? A chant to be repeated over and over again? What if I pray really hard? Will praying help?
(Is it like love? Will it happen when I least expect it? Will I wake up one Saturday morning to find that the sun is out and the air is warm and the birds are chirping like mad and my turntable makes music?)
I’ll tell you what
is in the manual, though: A lot of shit about maintenance. Daily maintenance, weekly maintenance, monthly maintenance, long-term maintenance.
We recommend using a cotton swab to prevent the hydrosonic water sensor and flux-capacitor overdrive kicker from collecting debris and barnacles and oysters. I need to hire an assistant just to keep the ultrasonic humidifier clean, happy, and well-fed.
And then, another nagging fear: What if my problem has nothing to do with dry air and static? What if it’s something else? I mean, I am no longer being shocked to near death whenever I touch the tonearm. I am no longer suffering from a bloody nose or sore throat. The humidity in my apartment must have gone up. But the sound of my turntable is still awful. Okay, for a few tracks, it’s fine. There is music. And then, suddenly, a hint of something, a whisper of distortion, a dropping out of sound, a moment of music lost, and then, could it be, yes, it is, the sound is horrible again. It's as if music is lost in the mix, as if the sound engineers did a terrible job. I get up, lift the tonearm from the record, sigh a frustrated sigh, make a sour face for the angels, and search for another compact disc.
I swear: I will get to the bottom of this, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.
