<B>This Is The Perfect Time</B>&mdash;the time of year we love most. Madison Avenue's confounding street signs are suddenly dressed in green and red wreaths, the city's weary scaffolding blinks happily with golden light, the ordinary clamor of traffic and jackhammers is magically transformed into jingle bells and drummer boys. There is music everywhere and nothing to get in our way: A look down the avenue in either direction throws open a window to all that is past and all that is to come.

<B>This Is The Perfect Time</B>&mdash;the time of year we love most. Madison Avenue's confounding street signs are suddenly dressed in green and red wreaths, the city's weary scaffolding blinks happily with golden light, the ordinary clamor of traffic and jackhammers is magically transformed into jingle bells and drummer boys. There is music everywhere and nothing to get in our way: A look down the avenue in either direction throws open a window to all that is past and all that is to come.

<B>This Is The Perfect Time</B>&mdash;the time of year we love most. Madison Avenue's confounding street signs are suddenly dressed in green and red wreaths, the city's weary scaffolding blinks happily with golden light, the ordinary clamor of traffic and jackhammers is magically transformed into jingle bells and drummer boys. There is music everywhere and nothing to get in our way: A look down the avenue in either direction throws open a window to all that is past and all that is to come.

<B>This Is The Perfect Time</B>&mdash;the time of year we love most. Madison Avenue's confounding street signs are suddenly dressed in green and red wreaths, the city's weary scaffolding blinks happily with golden light, the ordinary clamor of traffic and jackhammers is magically transformed into jingle bells and drummer boys. There is music everywhere and nothing to get in our way: A look down the avenue in either direction throws open a window to all that is past and all that is to come.

This Is The Perfect Time—the time of year we love most. Madison Avenue's confounding street signs are suddenly dressed in green and red wreaths, the city's weary scaffolding blinks happily with golden light, the ordinary clamor of traffic and jackhammers is magically transformed into jingle bells and drummer boys. There is music everywhere and nothing to get in our way: A look down the avenue in either direction throws open a window to all that is past and all that is to come.

It's the time for giving gifts, so here's my plan: I will start off by telling you about some great new things, then remind you about some old favorites. Okay?

It's the time for giving gifts, so here's my plan: I will start off by telling you about some great new things, then remind you about some old favorites. Okay?

It's the time for giving gifts, so here's my plan: I will start off by telling you about some great new things, then remind you about some old favorites. Okay?

It's the time for giving gifts, so here's my plan: I will start off by telling you about some great new things, then remind you about some old favorites. Okay?

The SC-I ($995/pair) is the smallest model in the "Signature Collection" to come from Dunlavy Audio Labs, the company founded by <A HREF="http://www.stereophile.com/interviews/163">John Dunlavy</A> after he left Duntech. The largest model in this series used to be the $4995/pair SC-IV that Robert Deutsch so enthusiastically reviewed last April, and that this month was voted <I>Stereophile</I>'s 1994 "Product of the Year." There is now also a huge <A HREF="http://www.stereophile.com/floorloudspeakers/162">SC-VI</A&gt; available.