Alright, I'm back. I think I can address this sensibly now - screaming into a pillow has a way of restoring sanity.
For weeks, usually around 11.30pm, Didgeridoo Boy would set himself up to listen to Coast to Coast AM, select a video game, and begin fiddling with the great infernalness that is his array of speakers. His chair would be positioned just.....so. He'd get up to turn a speaker at just.....the right.....angle. He'd walk around the living room to consider. And then, as soon as I wandered back to the bedroom to turn in and had settled into bed to read, he would appear in the bedroom and do this:
What's that? Well, that's a dance. Those are clips from a video I took of him dancing to the noise air makes when it's blown through the space between his two front teeth. The video is sideways thanks to how I held the camera (duh!), so when played it gives the impression that he's flailing around like a fish out of water, and in that is actually a little disturbing. But stills? Oh, the glory of a still.
Back to the matter at hand. Didge started casually strolling into the bedroom a few times an evening and doing that dance. And then he would position himself on one foot, leaning towards the bedroom door, with that same expression on his face. He would then walk around the bedroom, and leave. His arrival back in the living room would be heralded by interesting fluctuations in the volume of his video game or movie. Very interesting fluctuations, actually, and always resulting in the volume being just a wee tish higher. And then he would come back and perform the entire routine again.
He said he was coming back to say goodnight and play with Totsi the Dog one more time before she went to sleep. Horse absolute scat - piles thereof, even! He was checking to see how high he could get away with cranking up the volume on his nightly entertainment choice.
After several lively discussions revolving around his scientific explanations pertaining to acoustics and me being called a dunce, I finally came up with a solution: Turn the back room, which is now the dining room, into a home theater. It's perfect. Sealed off from the rest of the house by a heavy door, and sharing no walls with either of our neighbors, Didge could play his games and watch movies in his own little almost-soundproof zone. In exchange? I could decorate the whole rest of the house at my whim with no interference or objections from His Didgeliness.
I have been prancing proud over this for a couple of weeks, and I'm still really happy with the outcome. But I've just realized he drove me to it - I didn't come up with a damned thing on my own. So did I still win? Just tell me I did so I don't have to scream into a pillow anymore. My throat hurts.
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