Back in the late 80's, or my "wild injun" days as my dear wife refers to them, my band was playing in a local club on a hot, smokey Saturday night. This was during the times when a band could play covers and originals in a club Thursday through Sunday and get paid $1500.00 for the effort. In this particular bar, we also got all the draft beer we could drink- for free. I couldn't set it up any better if I wanted to... Anyway, on this particular night, we had just finished the second set and the singer and I were taking a break at the bar. I am absolutely positive we were up to no good (as usual) when this girl walked up to the bar next to us. We both stopped talking and this was a pivotal moment because Robbie and I never, ever, ever stopped talking. This girl was stunning- she had long, dark brown hair that reached down to the middle of her back and was layered at the top to frame her oval face. Looked like a super model. Her eyes were green and her tanned face had sharp features with a perfect complexion. She had on a red tube top (quite popular in the day) that held the nicest set of 34 D's I had ever seen (outside of a couple of Playmate of the Month photos). Remember, this was the pre- internet period for us struggling musicians, so Playboy was it. Tight Jordache jeans that flared slightly held a perfect 5' 9" frame with not one once of fat. "Flabbergasted" would be a good word to insert here, Gentlemen. I even remember that she ordered a 7 and 7 and why that small detail remains with me to this day, I don't know but the end result of this chance meeting was that, as I looked at this woman it was one of only two or three times in my life that I could not find anything wrong with an object of my obvious desire. Nothing- not one flaw or feature that I could say I found unattractive. Simply put, to me she was perfect. Robbie and I just stood there, I'm sure with our mouths open and as she got her drink, she looked at us, smiled and walked over to a table of people and sat down. I think my next word was "Wow" and by then, it was time to hit the stage for the third set. The dammed thing of it all is, Robbie spent the entire set over on the right hand side of the stage, hamming it up for her table and I pretty much had to hold down the left side. That's what bass players did back then on a small-ish bar stage- they stayed on their side.

    Now I know this short recollection may have absolutely nothing to do with this '97 Les Paul, but for me, it does. The day after we acquired this guitar, we were looking at it and a comment was made about how guitars look like women. It's the curves and the beauty that attract us- this must be a subliminal thing and it's worked since these things were invented. Bo Diddley played a rectangular shaped guitar and I've always thought it looked like crap, so my point must be true in some sense. Anyway, while looking at this guitar, the above memory popped into my head and for a few moments, I took the pleasure or remembering a great and unforgettable night from way back in my past. I'm sure it was the curves, the beauty, and the condition because they are as she was- perfect...