A few days ago, I removed my Nintendo Entertainment System — the one I've owned since I was a young boy — from my Walmart television stand — the one I've owned for five years — and placed it on my Target bookcase. I then unplugged the Sony DVD player, wrapped up its wires, and placed it in my bedroom closet.
There won't be room for it now. Alone, I rarely watch DVDs anyhow. And, as for the NES: I never use it at all. It's simply a hit during parties.
In the new space made vacant by these changes, I placed the Arcam Solo, more than a little bit afraid that the cheap Walmart stand would not hold its weight. I tested it, carefully; applied some pressure, slid the unit back and forth, lifted it up and down.
This will do. This will have to do.
I plugged the Solo's power cord into a simple surge protector and fell immediately into a gentle blue glow.
Because I have no speakers, I've simply been allowing the Solo to warm up. I suppose. I took the longest playing disc from the floor before me — Devendra Banhart's latest, Cripple Crow — and placed it in the tray. It's been there ever since.
Singing silence. Spinning quiet. I kind of like it.
So far, I like it a lot.
***
Sorry about all the poetry, guys. I have nothing yet to report on the Arcam Solo. John DeVore had some car trouble yesterday, so he couldn't make it out to Jersey City. However, tonight, we will meet.
