El Evans MMDeuce
March 7th 04, 10:05 PM
It's a lot of fun to deal with high end salespeople, except on those
occasions when you actually want to buy something.
Recently I called a shop looking for a turntable. I wanted something
with a three point suspension and in a one-piece unit, with an arm and
possibly a modest cartridge, for my second system. No separate motors
and O-rings smelling of Skydrol and/or AstroGlide (these are not
interchangeable, ask anyone who didn't wash his hands
BEFORE....airline joke), et al. Turns out he's a Linn dealer.
Of course, there is only one turntable to him, the LP12. Now, the
LP12 is a decent table-almost as good as a full-tilt Merrill-and
because they both started out essentially with an AR. I'd buy a used
one at the right price. However, he has a huge Waiting List, and of
course, he has the magickal ability to Set It up Properly. Therefore,
he is really saying, BOHICA. A little enquiry as to price proved this
correct.
So I made the comment that I'd rather have a Merrill. Of course, he
gets Morris the Cat on me. So for a half hour I proved to him that
inasmuch as he had no background in electronics (per se), machining,
manufacturing engineering, metrology, materials science, or anything
else relevant except sales and Tiefenbrun groupiedom, he really was in
no position to comment.
In no way is this common only to Linnies. Most audio salespeople have
no background in anything but sales, and they get groupieish. We have
a Linnie, a couple of Madrigalistas, and a McInbigot (he's in his
seventies and is of a certain ethnic background, which of course is
irrelevant, except that he's 1)a jackoff supreme and 2) actually bears
a resemblance to a former world leader abhorrent to said ethnic
group,so we call him the "H***** of Hi-Fi")in our town, and a VTLhead
who openly admits he's gay but would definitely **** EveAnna Manley
and another McInbigot in the nearest major city over to our east.
Every so often I buy something little from these people so I can have
endless enjoyable hours tweaking the living daylights out of them.
Having given up on motorcycles and sex years ago, it's the only small,
sordid pleasure I get from life anymore.
occasions when you actually want to buy something.
Recently I called a shop looking for a turntable. I wanted something
with a three point suspension and in a one-piece unit, with an arm and
possibly a modest cartridge, for my second system. No separate motors
and O-rings smelling of Skydrol and/or AstroGlide (these are not
interchangeable, ask anyone who didn't wash his hands
BEFORE....airline joke), et al. Turns out he's a Linn dealer.
Of course, there is only one turntable to him, the LP12. Now, the
LP12 is a decent table-almost as good as a full-tilt Merrill-and
because they both started out essentially with an AR. I'd buy a used
one at the right price. However, he has a huge Waiting List, and of
course, he has the magickal ability to Set It up Properly. Therefore,
he is really saying, BOHICA. A little enquiry as to price proved this
correct.
So I made the comment that I'd rather have a Merrill. Of course, he
gets Morris the Cat on me. So for a half hour I proved to him that
inasmuch as he had no background in electronics (per se), machining,
manufacturing engineering, metrology, materials science, or anything
else relevant except sales and Tiefenbrun groupiedom, he really was in
no position to comment.
In no way is this common only to Linnies. Most audio salespeople have
no background in anything but sales, and they get groupieish. We have
a Linnie, a couple of Madrigalistas, and a McInbigot (he's in his
seventies and is of a certain ethnic background, which of course is
irrelevant, except that he's 1)a jackoff supreme and 2) actually bears
a resemblance to a former world leader abhorrent to said ethnic
group,so we call him the "H***** of Hi-Fi")in our town, and a VTLhead
who openly admits he's gay but would definitely **** EveAnna Manley
and another McInbigot in the nearest major city over to our east.
Every so often I buy something little from these people so I can have
endless enjoyable hours tweaking the living daylights out of them.
Having given up on motorcycles and sex years ago, it's the only small,
sordid pleasure I get from life anymore.