The roadster's throbbing rumble became a roar as the tachometer soared above 4 grand. Like a giant hand, its thrust jammed me back into the seat. Racing along low to the ground, feeling every curve and bump, I began to understand: the automotive virtues of smoothness and insulation had been swapped for firm road grip and the ability to transmit to the driver each jolt and curve in the surface below. Long before I'd climbed into the driver's seat of Porsche's Boxster S, I had known about its low-end snort and speed—the main reasons I was considering a lease—but I had not known about its ability to join sensation and purpose in such an intense bond.

The roadster's throbbing rumble became a roar as the tachometer soared above 4 grand. Like a giant hand, its thrust jammed me back into the seat. Racing along low to the ground, feeling every curve and bump, I began to understand: the automotive virtues of smoothness and insulation had been swapped for firm road grip and the ability to transmit to the driver each jolt and curve in the surface below. Long before I'd climbed into the driver's seat of Porsche's Boxster S, I had known about its low-end snort and speed—the main reasons I was considering a lease—but I had not known about its ability to join sensation and purpose in such an intense bond.

The roadster's throbbing rumble became a roar as the tachometer soared above 4 grand. Like a giant hand, its thrust jammed me back into the seat. Racing along low to the ground, feeling every curve and bump, I began to understand: the automotive virtues of smoothness and insulation had been swapped for firm road grip and the ability to transmit to the driver each jolt and curve in the surface below. Long before I'd climbed into the driver's seat of Porsche's Boxster S, I had known about its low-end snort and speed—the main reasons I was considering a lease—but I had not known about its ability to join sensation and purpose in such an intense bond.

The roadster's throbbing rumble became a roar as the tachometer soared above 4 grand. Like a giant hand, its thrust jammed me back into the seat. Racing along low to the ground, feeling every curve and bump, I began to understand: the automotive virtues of smoothness and insulation had been swapped for firm road grip and the ability to transmit to the driver each jolt and curve in the surface below. Long before I'd climbed into the driver's seat of Porsche's Boxster S, I had known about its low-end snort and speed—the main reasons I was considering a lease—but I had not known about its ability to join sensation and purpose in such an intense bond.

The roadster's throbbing rumble became a roar as the tachometer soared above 4 grand. Like a giant hand, its thrust jammed me back into the seat. Racing along low to the ground, feeling every curve and bump, I began to understand: the automotive virtues of smoothness and insulation had been swapped for firm road grip and the ability to transmit to the driver each jolt and curve in the surface below. Long before I'd climbed into the driver's seat of Porsche's Boxster S, I had known about its low-end snort and speed—the main reasons I was considering a lease—but I had not known about its ability to join sensation and purpose in such an intense bond.

<a href="http://forum.stereophile.com/forum/showflat.php?Cat=0&Number=54397&an=0… directed us</a> to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/02/technology/techspecial2/02table.html?… excellent and encouraging article</a> in the New York Times.

My heart is not broken. It is collapsed like the sun into the frozen Meadowlands. Sometimes, alone in bed at night, I get this awful, screaming pain in the side of my bony chest, in that empty space where I imagine you to be. It's not often that I do this, sit here. Listen to the same sad songs over and over again, sing along, cry, think of how these words were written for us. It's probably not a good habit to be getting into, but it seems I just can't stop. It's been more than two weeks now, and it isn't wearing off. Twelve songs, 40 minutes, over and over again. I can't stop. Remember when you said that no one else could ever love me like you loved me? I don't know if that was a gift or a curse, but I believe it is true.