Better still, it is less frigid lately than it has been in months.  I am building Miriam a closet, and while I work I have been keeping the windows open.  The azaleas are beginning to bloom, too, and the trees are getting their new leaves.  This has been a horrible winter.

But Barber, of course, wrote much more.  Yesterday, for example, I listened to Gil Shaham’s wonderful recording of Barber’s Violin Concerto, which deserves a place in the regular concert repertoire.

Happy Birthday, Samuel Barber.

UPDATE:  When I arrived at work this morning, I noticed that Exploring Music this week is devoted to Samuel Barber.  Tomorrow, in fact, the show will feature Knoxville: Summer of 1915, and the fabulous Summer Music for Woodwind Quintet.  Friday’s show will have the Piano Concerto played by John Browning – a recording I have on CD.

A live full-band version exists, too, and it is just as good.

Before I brought these speakers home last month, I knew practically nothing about them.  But, a quick internet search took me to a wonderful website called The Classic Speaker Pages, and there I found the document that became my bible as I undertook the project of bringing my AR-3as back to life: “Restoring the AR-3a”.  The Classic Speaker Pages also have a discussion forum devoted to Acoustic Research loudspeakers, and several members of the board have extensive experience with the AR-3a going back decades.  They provided valuable assistance as I remedied the little technical issues that, understandably, affect a forty-year-old speaker.

What goes wrong with the AR-3a over time?  A couple of things.  The first is something that goes wrong with all old loudspeakers: woofer surrounds deteriorate.  Most speakers use foam to connect the cones to the baskets, and over time that foam disintegrates and crumbles away.  The early AR-3a used cloth surrounds, and while the cloth itself will stay perfect, the material used to keep that cloth acoustically sealed fails over time.  Acoustic suspension speakers like the AR-3a rely on a practically airtight cabinet, and when the material that seals the cloth surrounds deteriorates, the cones move too freely.  In the bass-rich AR-3a, too much movement in the woofer can destroy the voice coil.  Replacements for AR-3a drivers are no longer made.

Meanwhile, inside the AR-3a cabinet, two issues almost always need addressing.  First, the forty-year-old capacitors have drifted from their original values, and need replacing.  That’s no big deal, since capacitors are inexpensive and easy to find.  The second problem that plagues many Acoustic Research loudspeakers is corrosion in the potentiometers.  The 3a has one potentiometer each for the mid-range driver and the tweeter.  They are fairly simple contraptions, but invariably have become oxidized or corroded, and that means they often no longer make electrical contact.

So, bad capacitors and bad potentiometers mean that many old AR-3a loudspeakers no longer sound the way they should.  And, when people play them loudly without making sure the cloth surrounds are still sealed, they risk serious damage.  I was extremely lucky that my 3as had no damage whatsoever.  Even the walnut cabinets are perfect, which is almost unheard of.

Following directions in the “Restoring the AR-3a” guide, I quite easily re-coated the cloth surrounds on the woofer with Permatex Hi-Tack Gasket Sealant that I readily found at the auto parts store.  A very thin coat over the surrounds and dust caps–which are also cloth–sealed everything very well.

With the woofers out, I removed the fiberglass that fills every AR-3a cabinet.  The crossover network inside seems very complicated at first glance, but after staring at the schematic it began to make more sense.  I was fortunate that these cabinets had never been opened, and all the wiring matched the schematic perfectly.

Not wanting to get in over my head, I took the potentiometers out, cleaned them, and reinstalled them one at a time.  One of the four was like new.  The rest showed a good amount of oxidation.  My Dremel tool took care of that.  I re-soldered each potentiometer as I put it back in, and avoided needless confusion that way.

The original capacitors in the AR-3a look nothing like the capacitors made today.  One large box inside the cabinet houses a 50- and 150 micro-farad capacitor.  A separate small box contains the 6 micro-farad capacitor.   I simply cut out the old capacitors and soldered in the new ones.  It is amazing how much smaller modern capacitors are than the ones installed in older speakers.

Having cleaned the potentiometers and replaced the capacitors in each cabinet, I then replaced the grey putty that encircles the woofer opening, providing an acoustic seal.  The original was still somewhat malleable, but I didn’t trust it to do the job, and new putty is cheap.  I ordered it from an eBay seller that specialized in Acoustic Research restoration projects.  I placed the heavy woofers back in each cabinet, tightened the screws, then re-installed the grilles.  I was ready to test the speakers.

I carried them into the living room, hooked them up to my stereo, and played the music I always use on these sorts of occasions, Trevor Pinnock’s recording of the Brandenburg Concerto No. 2.  It is complex music that isn’t too bottom-heavy, but has plenty of texture.  I set the volume to a low level and pressed play.  I put my ear to each driver on the right speaker, and was thrilled to hear sound from each.  I had to tweak the potentiometers on the back of the cabinet: the AR-3a has plenty of bottom end; the mid-range driver is strong, too, and needs to be turned down a bit; and the tweeter is bright and clear, but needs to have its pot turned wide open.  Satisfied, I put the grille back on and moved over to the left speaker.  The woofer and tweeter seemed perfect, but the mid-range driver produced no sound.  I was crushed.

My first thought, of course, was that the potentiometer was still a bit dirty, so I rotated it, hoping to find the sweet spot.  No luck.  So I carried the speaker to the back room and began the arduous process of opening it up again.  The guts seemed just right.  The right colored wires connected to the right components, just like the schematic.  I inspected all my solder spots, and they seemed to be fine, too.  But maybe one was a little loose, so I did it over, re-stuffed the cabinet, re-sealed the woofer, and carried it back out to the living room for another test.  (It took me several days to find the time to do all this.)  Still, the mid-range driver produced no sound.  I began to worry.

Of all the things that can go wrong with the AR-3a, the worst, of course, is a bad driver.  They don’t make accurate replacements for the originals, and when you can find authentic ones on eBay, they sell for hundreds of dollars.  That seems like a lot of money for a one-and-a-half-inch dome speaker.  If I did have to replace the driver it wouldn’t be the end of the world, since I paid nothing for the speakers, and even putting a few hundred dollars into them would still be well worth the expense.  But I certainly hoped that it was almost anything besides the driver.

I didn’t have a multi-meter to test the driver, but the engineer at work loaned me a small tone generator used to test speakers.  You press a button corresponding to the frequency you want to generate, hook the leads to the speaker and see if makes a sound.  I was dreading the result, but to my great relief, the mid-range driver emitted a 15kHz tone, which told me the driver was fine, and the problem was somewhere else.  I went to Home Depot the next day and bought a small multi-meter, then began the process of testing each component inside for connectivity.

The potentiometer was still the most likely source of the problem, but the meter showed that it functioned perfectly.  The wire from the potentiometer to the speaker terminals on the front of the cabinet were also fine.  So the problem lay somewhere before the pot.  My multi-meter doesn’t work on capacitors, but I doubted that a brand new cap would be a dud.  I was stuck.

I turned to the AR Forum on The Classic Speaker Pages, and posted a message describing my malady.  A short time later somebody posted a list of potential problems, still convinced that it was a wiring error.  One thing mentioned in passing, though, caught my attention, because it related to something I did inside the cabinet.  When I removed the potentiometer for the tweeter, I un-soldered all the wires leading to it, then re-soldered them.  But when I removed the pot for the mid-range, I cut the last quarter inch of wire, re-stripped, and soldered the pot back in.  A long coil of seemingly bare copper wire leads to the mid-range pot.  (You can see it in the center of the picture here.)  I just soldered that where it was supposed to go.  It never occurred to me that that copper wire had a thin but tough lacquer coating.  Having cut the last bit of that copper wire, I had cut out the portion with the coating removed and re-soldered a coated portion.  That was the cause of my trouble.  I corrected my mistake, closed the cabinet, hooked up the speaker, and repeated my listening test with felicitous results.

The AR-3a sounds amazing.  The bass is deep and solid, the mids are stunningly lifelike, and the treble sparkles.  Listening to Bringing it All Back Home, I was stunned by “Mr. Tambourine Man”.  The acoustic guitar seemed completely natural, so that if I closed my eyes, I couldn’t tell that there wasn’t some living person playing an acoustic guitar in my living room.  Meanwhile, new details are being revealed in songs I have known for a long time.

I am indescribably lucky. Huzzah, AR-3a!

The program documents a man named Craig Ewert, who, five months earlier had been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s Disease.  After his diagnosis he began to rapidly lose motor function, and when the film begins, he is paralyzed from the neck down.  His wife of several decades is with him constantly.   Mr. Ewert has decided that he would prefer suicide to total paralysis followed by prolonged death, so he travels to Zurich, where assisted suicide is legal, and with the help of a group called Dignitas, ends his life, with his wife holding his hand, and Beethoven playing on the radio.

What makes this program so powerful is that one gets to know Mr. Ewert.  He is a likable, chatty person, who, until his diagnosis was living an active, interesting life, which, were it not for the disease, he would love to continue.  But he fears that if he waits too long, he will lose the ability to move a muscle, at which point assisted suicide would be impossible, leaving him in a prolonged vegetative state, causing his family years of agony.  No one watching could feel anything but profound sympathy for him and his family.  And when he finally drinks the drug that will stop his heart, which he knows will separate him from everyone and everything he has ever known and loved, the tragedy is overwhelming.

I used to think that only ghoulish doctors exploited suffering people by helping them end their lives.  But “The Suicide Tourist” depicts something else entirely.  I am a man of strong faith.  I don’t take matters of death lightly.  But as someone who feels for those who suffer, I cannot ignore that, for some, death is the more dignified, humane, and, ultimately, loving alternative.

I don’t want to take the smile away from anybody’s face, but if you want to witness the most profound portrait of human courage and dignity, watch “The Suicide Tourist”.

But not everyone likes the idea of the Olympics moving from city to city, country to country.  In an op-ed published in the New York Times on Monday, former Olympic rower, Charles Banks-Altekruse, argues that the Olympic games–both summer and winter–should move permanently to Switzerland.

Banks-Altekruse correctly points out that the Olympics are hugely expensive events that can be financially crippling to the host cities and countries.  Part of Greece’s present fiscal turmoil is due, no doubt, to the 2004 games in Athens.  Meanwhile, I clearly remember how worried people were about whether the Olympic facilities and venues would be complete in time for the games.  The paint was still drying when the 2004 Olympics began.  That Greece had to build arenas and a stadium from scratch is emblematic of what makes the Olympics so costly for host cities.  Beijing built hugely expensive facilities that now lie dormant.  Sochi is building a new Olympic park from scratch that will, no doubt, cost a fortune. Rio de Janeiro will spend billions of dollars it simply doesn’t have to host the 2016 summer games.

Atlanta spent tons of money, too, but did things a bit smarter.  The stadium that hosted the opening and closing ceremonies as well as track and field in 1996 was converted to host baseball after the games concluded.  Other Olympic events were held at facilities at universities in northern Georgia.  Los Angeles, too, used existing infrastructure in 1984, and made money.  But times have changed, and expectations have changed.  I suspect that, like professional sports teams do, the International Olympic Committee now expects the latest and greatest, and an old stadium–the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum was over sixty-years-old when the 1984 games began–simply wouldn’t do.

Meanwhile, Banks-Altekruse argues that potential political conflicts like the one that thwarted his Olympic hopes in Moscow in 1980, and kept Eastern Bloc nations away from Los Angeles in 1984, make it essential that the Olympics find a permanent, neutral home.  I acknowledge that that was a big shame, and, in retrospect, neither of those cities was the ideal choice, since the IOC certainly must have realized that boycotts would occur.

But I think the political climate around the world have changed in the past twenty-five years, and I doubt that we will see another significant Olympic boycott, unless future games are, somehow, awarded to Tibet or Somalia.

And, though the financial issue is a serious matter, I don’t believe that that justifies moving the Olympics permanently to Switzerland, which would, according to Banks-Altekruse, be able to afford its hosting duties by averaging out the construction costs over a long term.

No, I think too much is gained by having the Olympics move around the world.  The experience seems richer, and the international goodwill, I believe, is genuine.

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I acknowledge that fuel costs have risen dramatically in the last decade, and that must cost the Post Office a fortune.  Plus, something nobody mentions is that the United States has millions more addresses than ever before.  Every new building built in America represents another stop on a carrier’s route.  And, the tendency of cities to expand in a sprawling fashion means that addresses are farther apart, and require more fuel than traditionally urban neighborhoods, where mailmen could deliver on foot.

The Post Office needs to get out of the business of everything that isn’t mail.  Stop selling random junk like holiday music CDs and mouse pads.  If they need to raise rates, raise rates on junk mail first.  I don’t want that stuff anyway.  And if first class rates go up, I understand.  Even if a stamp was fifty cents, it’d still be a bargain.  Think about it: you place an envelope in your mailbox, pull the flag up, and a person comes by six days a week, picks it up, and takes it anywhere in the country in a day or two.  I got a letter from someone in California on Monday.  They mailed it the previous Friday.  That’s incredibly fast for so little money.  Transportation time to and from the Netflix distribution center in Daytona is less than twenty-four hours.  DVDs that are picked up from my box at four o’clock in the afternoon arrive there by ten o’clock the following morning.

And the Post Office could do one more thing that would help me personally: stop taking passport applications at University Station.  There are only two clerks ever working there, and one of them is always doing someone’s passport, leaving one clerk available to help the dozens of people standing in the line that stretches out the door.

We went to Best Buy last Saturday and bought a Blu-ray disc player.  I had seen one at a friend’s house last year, and the picture was incredible.  But I expected it to be.  Since the introduction of the DVD player, video quality has been steadily improving.  HDTV, of course, has been the greatest leap forward.  But the Blu-ray player is much more than high-definition video.  It’s Netflix.

I must be the last of my friends to use Netflix, an online video store that sends DVDs to members through the mail, which they then watch and return.  That process is fairly low-tech, and never struck me as the most convenient way to watch movies, though I had to admire Netflix’s selection.

Recently, visiting friends, I have seen that Netflix now offers streaming video, which can be accessed via fancy game consoles or a Blu-ray player.  Harris and Kat, and Ryan and Karla showed us how they could select from a seemingly unlimited number of Netflix films to watch instantly on their TVs through internet streaming.  My prognosticating skills are apparently limited, because I never thought streaming video was the future.  That is, I thought slow internet connections and limited hard-drive space were significant obstacles.  Who, I wondered, would spend hours downloading a movie, which will take up a ton of space on his or her computer, and which he or she will have to watch on a tiny computer screen?  That’s not how it works, it turns out.

On Monday morning I hooked up our new Blu-ray player, moved around some wires so I could connect it to the cable modem, and then signed up for Netflix.  Last night we experienced the magic.  We went to the Netflix website, selected the exact movie Miriam wanted to see at that moment, added it to our “instant” cue.  Then, magically, that title appeared on our TV screen.  I pressed play, the Blu-ray player spent thirty seconds or less downloading the movie–or at least it began downloading the movie–then the film began.  The picture was widescreen, looked as good as a DVD, sounded as good, too, and played flawlessly without any skips or blips for the entire duration of the film.  I could barely believe it.  Miriam and I high-fived each other.

So, now there are countless movies and TV shows that we have ready to watch whenever we sit down in front of the television.  Plus, we can still get physical DVDs and Blu-ray discs in the mail.  I’m expecting Parsifal today.

We’re living in the future!  What does it cost?  Less than nine dollars a month.  Since we canceled the premium channels on our cable, were saving money.  Huzzah!