AndyC
Active member
- Joined
- Aug 10, 2005
- Messages
- 1,930
This is just a dopey story about my first encounter with a real Burst. I've just never shared it on the LPF before, so I thought I'd do that.
I grew up in western Massachusetts, in a little town near Springfield, in a middle class community. One of my neighbors was a family who had a son about 4 years older than me. His name was David. David's mother taught guitar lessons and I understood her to play semi-professionally in some capacity.
Ever since I had met the family I knew the mother, who was fairly young, to be quite ill. She was a smoker, and I had the sense that that was part of the problem, but I wasn't sure. I'm talking about a time when I was about 8 or 9 years old, so my memory is a little foggy, but this particular event I remember very well. I recall the year of this event, because David's father had just purchased a brand new 1967 Ford Galaxie 500. It was a maroon color, and I was fascinated with it. David's Dad yelled at us to stay away from the car because he didn't want our bikes near it, scratching it.
David's mother passed away. I didn't see him much for a while, but a few months later I was visiting him. I told him that I had finally started taking guitar lessons. My parents had made me wait until my hands got big enough to fit a 3/4 size Stella acoustic guitar they had bought for me. My Dad bought me two records - a Segovia record and Carlos Montoya. Jeez, talk about setting high standards for an 8 year old!
David asked me if I wanted to see his mother's favorite guitar. We had to wait until his Dad wasn't home, because his Dad didn't want anyone messing with her stuff. David took me up to the attic - it had one of the folding drop down stairs, and I was scared going up there. In the attic, on top of an old coffee table there was this brown guitar case. We knelt down in front of it, and he opened the latches. Inside was a sunburst Les Paul. I recall it being brown rather than red. The sunburst was very much evident, but not really vibrant. It was not bright in the attic, and it was kind of dingy up there, but the guitar was unbelievable. We didn't take it out of the case, but I did touch it. David was really scared to even be messing with it. I just stared at it. I had never seen any guitar like that. I watched A Hard Day's Night with my brother, and new about solid body guitars, but I didn't know what this guitar was. The image of it, and of the attic and the case, and all is etched in my memory in high resolution.
We closed the case, and got back downstairs. David was sad talking about his Mom, so I didn't bring it up with him again. David family moved away a year or so later. I did see him - he came to my mother's funeral in 1993. I didn't get a chance to ask him about the guitar then. I have no idea where he is, or what happened to that guitar.
Later when I was around 13 and started reading "Cream" magazine I understood what the guitar was. I bought a Gibson Marauder in 1976, because the ads showed that it was in the Les Paul family - and hell, it was good enough for Paul Stanley! I finally bought myself my first real Les Paul - a Custom, in 1986.
I'll never forget that first Les Paul sighting. The guitar was only 7 or 8 years old at that time, so it was hardly a vintage guitar then. Sure wish I knew where it was now! Maybe in BOTB!! :salude
I grew up in western Massachusetts, in a little town near Springfield, in a middle class community. One of my neighbors was a family who had a son about 4 years older than me. His name was David. David's mother taught guitar lessons and I understood her to play semi-professionally in some capacity.
Ever since I had met the family I knew the mother, who was fairly young, to be quite ill. She was a smoker, and I had the sense that that was part of the problem, but I wasn't sure. I'm talking about a time when I was about 8 or 9 years old, so my memory is a little foggy, but this particular event I remember very well. I recall the year of this event, because David's father had just purchased a brand new 1967 Ford Galaxie 500. It was a maroon color, and I was fascinated with it. David's Dad yelled at us to stay away from the car because he didn't want our bikes near it, scratching it.
David's mother passed away. I didn't see him much for a while, but a few months later I was visiting him. I told him that I had finally started taking guitar lessons. My parents had made me wait until my hands got big enough to fit a 3/4 size Stella acoustic guitar they had bought for me. My Dad bought me two records - a Segovia record and Carlos Montoya. Jeez, talk about setting high standards for an 8 year old!
David asked me if I wanted to see his mother's favorite guitar. We had to wait until his Dad wasn't home, because his Dad didn't want anyone messing with her stuff. David took me up to the attic - it had one of the folding drop down stairs, and I was scared going up there. In the attic, on top of an old coffee table there was this brown guitar case. We knelt down in front of it, and he opened the latches. Inside was a sunburst Les Paul. I recall it being brown rather than red. The sunburst was very much evident, but not really vibrant. It was not bright in the attic, and it was kind of dingy up there, but the guitar was unbelievable. We didn't take it out of the case, but I did touch it. David was really scared to even be messing with it. I just stared at it. I had never seen any guitar like that. I watched A Hard Day's Night with my brother, and new about solid body guitars, but I didn't know what this guitar was. The image of it, and of the attic and the case, and all is etched in my memory in high resolution.
We closed the case, and got back downstairs. David was sad talking about his Mom, so I didn't bring it up with him again. David family moved away a year or so later. I did see him - he came to my mother's funeral in 1993. I didn't get a chance to ask him about the guitar then. I have no idea where he is, or what happened to that guitar.
Later when I was around 13 and started reading "Cream" magazine I understood what the guitar was. I bought a Gibson Marauder in 1976, because the ads showed that it was in the Les Paul family - and hell, it was good enough for Paul Stanley! I finally bought myself my first real Les Paul - a Custom, in 1986.
I'll never forget that first Les Paul sighting. The guitar was only 7 or 8 years old at that time, so it was hardly a vintage guitar then. Sure wish I knew where it was now! Maybe in BOTB!! :salude
