A couple of months ago, I was sure that if my wife ever told me I had to sell one Porsche, it would be the Boxster, not the 911. Lately, though, I’m starting to wonder if it might actually be the other way around. The 911 in Lizard Green is the glamorous Ginger, but the Racing Yellow Boxster is Mary Ann—the one who just makes me smile. And with the 718 officially ending production, that choice feels even tougher.