How to Stall Getting Old

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Abstract

ke you a cool guy. Watching a ton of videos of Ricky Tines, True Cuckoo, and Loopop does not make you a good synth player either.Pro tip: Try spending half the time spent on watching YouTube tutorials on actually learning how to do the stuff you watch the YouTubers do. Skills do not come from watching videos. Skills come from practicing.Anywho, back to the Boog. After a few days, it arrived in the mail. I was very happy and excited. I couldn’t hold it till my workday was over, but rushed to the post office in my lunch break. The unboxing had to wait until I got home. Just having it on my desk at work was oh so awesome, though more than slightly distracting. I’ve had more productive days than that one.Finally placing the box on the kitchen table at home, I unboxed it in front of my wife and my teenage daughter. My wife gave me the look wives give, shook her head, and walked away. Only later did she comment on the thing. My daughter stood around for a little longer. But she laughed. Hard. I did not feel the love. Not in the slightest.Doing my best to ignore the ridicule from my family, I set forth on my journey to synth stardom. It took about three and a half minutes for me to realize I needed a five

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-pin midi cable. Discouraged, I sat staring at my Boog for some time, cursing it silently. I went online and ordered the midi cable and joined my wife who watched TV. When asked how I liked my new toy, I lied and said I had enjoyed it very much.Fast forward a few months, I had everything I needed to make awesome sounds. My Boog, a midi controller (fancy word for a keyboard), and my killer B&W headphones. Amazeballs. I was so ashamed. Why? Well… who the fuck was I jamming with? And who the hell was I jamming for? That’s right. Me! I couldn’t see anybody else around, so I guess I was in a crowd of one. Hell, I didn’t even have speakers, just a headset. If speakers were present, I didn’t have a mixer anyway, so I was doomed to eternal solitude. Unless I spent a lot more money on equipment I couldn’t find any justification for spending.I kept my facade up for a few months year or so, before giving up on my synth stardom dream. Listing my Boog on Finn (the Norwegian equivalent of Craigslist) felt oddly satisfying, and when someone bought it I was so relieved I immediately went online looking for a drum machine I had secretly been wanting to buy for a few months. Did I need it? Of course not? Did I buy it? Not yet.</article></body>

Or: Buying a synthesizer at age 40, realizing it didn’t make me any younger, and pretending I liked fiddling with it to hide my shame.

So I bought this synthesizer, a Behringer Model D, thinking it would improve my life immensely. After all, it was a clone of the legendary Minimoog. At least, that’s what my friend, a true synth nerd, informed me. I knew about Moog synthesizers, but I was not aware of the status of the Minimoog. I was also sure that buying anything labeled Behringer would lead to instant ostracizing.

After a couple of beers, my friend had me convinced, and I bought the Boog (what the coolest guys call Behringer’s Moog clones). I justified the purchase with me hitting 40 and not buying a motorcycle. Being the next cool kid on the street didn’t hurt either.

Alas, buying a synthesizer at age 40 does not make you a cool guy. Watching a ton of videos of Ricky Tines, True Cuckoo, and Loopop does not make you a good synth player either.

Pro tip: Try spending half the time spent on watching YouTube tutorials on actually learning how to do the stuff you watch the YouTubers do. Skills do not come from watching videos. Skills come from practicing.

Anywho, back to the Boog. After a few days, it arrived in the mail. I was very happy and excited. I couldn’t hold it till my workday was over, but rushed to the post office in my lunch break. The unboxing had to wait until I got home. Just having it on my desk at work was oh so awesome, though more than slightly distracting. I’ve had more productive days than that one.

Finally placing the box on the kitchen table at home, I unboxed it in front of my wife and my teenage daughter. My wife gave me the look wives give, shook her head, and walked away. Only later did she comment on the thing. My daughter stood around for a little longer. But she laughed. Hard. I did not feel the love. Not in the slightest.

Doing my best to ignore the ridicule from my family, I set forth on my journey to synth stardom. It took about three and a half minutes for me to realize I needed a five-pin midi cable. Discouraged, I sat staring at my Boog for some time, cursing it silently. I went online and ordered the midi cable and joined my wife who watched TV. When asked how I liked my new toy, I lied and said I had enjoyed it very much.

Fast forward a few months, I had everything I needed to make awesome sounds. My Boog, a midi controller (fancy word for a keyboard), and my killer B&W headphones. Amazeballs. I was so ashamed. Why? Well… who the fuck was I jamming with? And who the hell was I jamming for? That’s right. Me! I couldn’t see anybody else around, so I guess I was in a crowd of one. Hell, I didn’t even have speakers, just a headset. If speakers were present, I didn’t have a mixer anyway, so I was doomed to eternal solitude. Unless I spent a lot more money on equipment I couldn’t find any justification for spending.

I kept my facade up for a few months year or so, before giving up on my synth stardom dream. Listing my Boog on Finn (the Norwegian equivalent of Craigslist) felt oddly satisfying, and when someone bought it I was so relieved I immediately went online looking for a drum machine I had secretly been wanting to buy for a few months. Did I need it? Of course not? Did I buy it? Not yet.