Too Many Flutes (6): A Luxury Item

I was persuaded to spend about twice as much as I planned to spend, when I decided to replace the Di Zhao flute I had owned for a couple of years. That flute was in the category of a "step up" instrument, better than a student model but not professional level.
The flute that Asaf Ginzburg sold me, a Sankyo silver flute, is on the bottom level of professional instruments, which extends upward through solid gold flutes that cost much as much as a luxury automobile.
Asaf set me down at a counter with about six excellent flutes, and, together, we tried them all and narrowed the choice down to the one I finally bought. From the very first note I played on one of the sample flutes, I could hear and feel the improvement over the Di Zhao, so the die was cast right away.
Asaf is a persuasive salesman, a clever businessman, and I like him. I like visiting his store in Tel Aviv. I love to see the huge array of instruments he has for sale. And I appreciate his knowledgeability. He knows his instruments. His prices are not low compared to the prices of huge Internet outlets like Woodwind and Brasswind. But his store is in Tel Aviv (only an advantage to Israelis, of course). You can go there, try out the instruments, compare them, and bring them back for adjustment. By the time you buy an instrument from an online store, have it shipped to Israel, and pay the VAT, the price isn't that much lower than in a local store. In my opinion, Ginzburg earns the difference between what he charges and what you'd pay if you ordered something from abroad.
Ah, but let's get back to the flute itself.
I've had dealings with Ginzburg over the years, and he pretends to recognize and remember me when I come in - being the fine salesman that he is, he probably does remember me. He more or less guessed my age, my income bracket, and my seriousness about playing the flute. As we moved toward closing the deal, which included trading in the Di Zhao flute and buying a new case for my baritone saxophone, he admitted that the flute was better than I was. At my level of playing, I didn't need a professional level flute. However, how many more flutes was I likely to buy in my lifetime?
(This reminds me of a friend of mine, at least eighty years old by now, who bought a big white SUV, saying to himself that it was probably the last car he'd ever buy).
I usually have a good deal of sales resistance, and I don't tend to buy high end stuff, but Asaf overcame my parsimony, and I'm grateful to him. Having an excellent instrument pulls down all the barriers to one's progress as a musician, and it's also an incentive: I want to play well enough to justify owning such a fine instrument. In the two years that I've owned it, I have improved, and, most importantly, I have enjoyed playing it.
Yesterday I played a Telemann trio with my wife, playing the piano, and a friend of ours, playing first flute. It was a hot day, and I wasn't feeling so great, but playing the music, even though our performance was hardly on a professional level, energized me. Where does that energy come from? I asked. Certainly not from the notes printed on the paper. Objectively speaking, it comes from within the musician, but, subjectively speaking, it feels as if it comes from a higher source. So if my overly expensive flute can give me that feeling from time to time, it is worth every penny and more.
So why did I buy yet another flute?
More to come.