You know, there's a certain truth to the idea that audiophiles are, shall we say, "seasoned." It's not that we're born with a penchant for high-fidelity; it's that we have to survive long enough to afford it! In my 30s, between diapers and college funds, "reference level" meant a decent pair of headphones that maybe wouldn't crackle. Now, with the offspring successfully launched into the world, I can finally indulge in the sweet, sweet sound of financial freedom—and a really, really good stereo. Honestly, the best part of being an empty-nester is being able to crank up the volume without someone yelling, "Turn that racket down!" If, by some delightful twist of fate, I shuffle off this mortal coil while nestled in my favorite chair, bathed in the warm glow of vacuum tubes and the glorious sounds of a perfectly pressed LP, please, just let the music play on. Give me a few extra tracks before you call the paramedics. It'll be a symphonic send-off.