Talk:Hit paste and see what comes up/@comment-30126178-20181103150439

Once a week, when I was younger, my Dad and I would fire up a movie to watch together. My Dad didn’t really care for the movie, but we had this kick-ass sound system that the houses next door could hear. The only reason he wanted to play a movie was so he could turn the volume on the stereo to max when the THX theme came on. It was like we were struck by a earthquake, and the living room was the epicenter. The glassware would vibrate, the walls would shake and every animal in the neighborhood would howl into the night. It was a rapturous feeling, as if the Horn of Gabriel was being blasted in my living room. It was my father’s best moment during the week, a time when my father could feel like he was actually heard in his otherwise dull life. Unfortunately, my Dad became obsessed with the THX sound, and tried to make its gloriousness even louder through additional speakers. His obsession became his downfall, when the stereo finally managed to break a glass of water on the entertainment system, and ultimately ruined his favorite moment of the week. My mother made it a house rule that we never spend so much time and money in a sound system again.