Setting the Level

A proper sound system commands the kind of respect you can't fake. I paced the length of the walnut credenza until I stood face-to-face with the brushed aluminum faceplate of the vintage receiver. The master volume dial rose up like a solid silver vault wheel, machined with fine knurled ridges along the outer perimeter. Stepping in close, I planted my platform heels, squared my shoulders, and leaned my left palm against the cool metal knurling. With one deliberate, unhurried turn, I nudged the dial through three greased detents until it locked into place with a muted mechanical thud. That subtle electrical hum rippled through the chassis right under my boots. Now the room has its tone set.