Three years ago August, I was one of the first people in the state of Virginia lucky enough to test drive a Tesla Roadster, the first production vehicle sold by Elon Musk's all-electric vehicle company, Tesla Motors.

Looking back on that first report, I realized I left a few, important things out.

First of all, the Roadster was essentially an electric car shoehorned into a Lotus Elise's body. This was, after all, not just a new kind of car, but a proof of concept vehicle; designing an entirely new body to ferry around an entirely new drivetrain and power system didn't make too much sense.

Second, for all its technological wizardry (and there was a lot, don't get me wrong), this was by no means a people's car, and nor was it meant to be. As I said before, it was a proof of concept vehicle, designed to show that an all-electric vehicle that wouldn't perform like a glorified golf cart could really be designed, produced and sold to a dead-dinosaur-fuel obsessed driving public. There was power, lots of power. It was fast, wickedly fast. And it handled like it was riding those proverbial rails.

Those two things, the shoehorning and the proof-of-concept bottom line, required buyers and passengers to accept something important: short of performance (which was there, in abundance) the car was never going to win prizes for refinement. Getting in, and getting out, required advanced skills in human origami. There was probably more "road feel" than the average passenger would find necessary; every bump and pebble in the road made it's way straight into your lower back. The lack of power steering, while easy to forget on open highways, was jarring once in town. Trunk space was…. Well, let's just say it wasn't.

But the bottom line was simple; the Roadster had done everything it was supposed to do, namely proving that you could, indeed, build a top-notch performance vehicle that ran solely on electricity and you could do it in such a way that didn't require recharging it every fifty miles or so.

Fast-forward three years.

The Tesla S was the world's first "premium electric sedan" when deliveries started this past June, according to the company. The powertrain and all the related lessons learned from the Roadster had been incorporated into what is, for all intents and purposes, the first sedan built from the ground up as an entirely electric vehicle. On first glance, the car is nothing short of striking. Its five-door layout means the body flows from the windshield, over the passenger compartment and gracefully down to the car's rear, without stops and breaks for the car's c-pillar and trunk deck. The first impression is of an Aston Martin Vanquish that's been stretched to accommodate an extra three adults in the back seat.

This is a beautiful car, and one that you enjoy looking at.

A few things jump out right away as you walk closer. Obviously, there are no exhaust pipes protruding from the rear: no internal combustion, no exhaust. But there also don't seem to be any door handles. Or charging ports for the aforementioned batteries.

If you're not the owner of the car, or don't have the key, those door handles will stay hidden. However, with the RFID-equipped "key" on your person or that of someone with you, as you get closer the car will sense the key's unique signature and "poof!" like magic, door handles will emerge. Once you're safely inside, the handles retract, sitting flush with the body. (The charging port, for those of you dying to know, is cleverly hidden behind one of the rear, driver-side reflectors. Pretty cool.)

Before sitting inside the car, it's enlightening to get on your hands and knees next to it. Not to genuflect to this remarkable piece of engineering, though that's not a bad idea. Rather, get all the way down so you can look beneath the car, at its underside.

In a nod to aerodynamics, as well as the simple fact that a simpler drivetrain requires fewer moving parts, the bottom of the Tesla S is perfectly clean: no driveshaft, to exhaust lines, none of the things you're used to seeing hanging out below your typical gas-powered automobile. It's not a huge deal, but it is does serve as a reminder that this car has about a much in common with your father's as his did with Fred Flintstone's.

Once inside, you'll be struck by a number of things, but they all fall into three categories: one, the inside is beautifully put together, with wood and aluminum accents in all the right places, sumptuous leather seats, a big, chunky steering wheel that begs to be held; two, the room inside is more than plentiful, thanks to the lack a traditional drivetrain running down the middle of the car as well as the five-door layout; and three, the center stack, normally home to a sound system, climate, navigation, and the like, all manner of knobs and dials and buttons, has been replaced by an enormous 17-inch screen that serves as home for all those.

It's a breathtaking layout and you just sort of want to take it all in, touch it, feel it, play with it. It's quite something. And even better, it all works. The touchscreen is so big, and so well thought-out, that everything is where you want it. And for you contrarians out there, you can reformat it. That's right, with a few simple, intuitive steps, you can move the controls up or down, putting the temperature at the top of the stack, or the radio, or the nav system. Or you can blow the nav system up so it takes up the entire stack. You get the idea. You won't get the tactile feedback you do from knobs and buttons, true, but users I've talked to say you get used to the change very quickly.

The car comes to life once you sit inside, reporting battery charge, range, weather, and just about anything else you'd like to configure it to do. The Tesla S is designed to be more than just a conveyance; it should reflect its owner and anticipate his or her needs. This is simply the direction all cars will be moving in the future, but for now no manufacturer pulls it off as nicely, as seamlessly, as Tesla.

Driving the car is a dream, with flawless acceleration, regenerative braking and handling enhanced by the low center of gravity brought to you by the lithium-ion batteries that rest under the floor.

The three primary levels available revolve around the three battery configurations available for the car, namely the 40, 60 or 85 kWh, or kilowatt hour, models. The base, or 40 kWH model, will set you back $49,900 (after a $7,500 Federal Tax Credit); estimated range is 160 miles; 0-60 mph is 6.5 seconds; and top speed is 110 mph. The mid-level, 60 kWh model, bumps range to 230 miles, top speed to 120 mph, 0-60 time in 5.9, and cost to $59,900 (again, after the tax credit.) The top, 85 kWh model, will set you back $69,900 (after the tax credit), but range increases to 300 miles, top speed to 125 mph, and 0-60 in 5.6 seconds.

A high performance model is also available for $84,900 (heard about the tax credit?), which includes an upgraded interior, suspension and wheels, bumps the top speed to 130 mph and improves the 0-60 time to 4.4 seconds.

You know, if you're in a hurry.

The battery warranty on all models is 8 years; mileage is 100,000 for the base, 125,000 for the mid, and unlimited for the top and performance models.

Bottom line? The Model S is a homerun, in just about every measurable area imaginable. From aesthetics, to performance to environmental impact, this car is a game-changer. The only drawback is wait-time for delivery; order your Model S today with a $5,000, fully refundable deposit, and you won't get your car until next summer.

But that's a small price to pay to drive the future.

If the Roadster was the proof of concept, the Model S is the proof of evolutionary dominance. Bravo.