We've always heard that the perfect Les Paul 'Burst weight is 8 lbs, 8 oz. That must be a magical number and so in that light, we got lucky with this Premium Plus because that is exactly what it weighs. The neck has a nice and extremely comfortable slim 60's profile and I don't have to mention the top- it's an obvious bonus to what we feel is an exceptional and well put together guitar. This Standard is resonant when played acoustically, which is what we always check for first and when plugged in, well, let's just say the tone belies that of a guitar that you can have for under 2 grand. I took a different path with this 'Paul when it was time to get Lee to perform our hallowed and undeniable "garage test". Without his knowing (or permission), I pulled out his '68 Plexi and warmed it up. I had everything ready to go and yelled down into the office, "Hey Bruiser. Can you come up here and give this thing a whirl for me?" I heard the usual accompaniment of grumbles and growls until he appeared and with a look of surprise on his face, asked me why the heck I had his amp pulled out. "Well, you know these old amps need to be run from time to time and I just wanted to hear this beast again. Let's just say I was in the mood to show some neighborly love." Let me be clear: Lee doesn't like me digging through his vintage amps and so, with a semi- scowl on his face, he strapped this Les Paul on and started to go into his usual Thin Lizzy licks. "Uh uh, killer" I cooed. It's AC/DC time today" and with that, he took off into a hoard of Angus Young licks that would have made any garage band proud. I don't know what it is about a 46 year- old, 100- watt Marshall, but this amp is absolutely satanic. It's the rawest, razor bladest sounding amp I've ever experienced next to a Dumble we heard in a guy's basement in Canada years ago and also only the second amp that made me put my hands over my ears. It was at this point that I couldn't help myself because I have a neighbor that yanks out the worst Neil Young blather you've ever heard from time to time and I thought he should learn what a real guitar and amp can do. So, throwing myself on my own sword, I did the unthinkable; I raised the garage door. The sounds of "If You Want Blood" flew out of the front of my house and every small animal within a hundred feet froze. The birds stopped chirping, nothing moved and for a minute, I began to think that I had gotten away with the greatest sin you can commit in my neighborhood, which is to play loud Rock music in the middle of the day. Alas, it was too good to be true because the lady that lives across the street, Margie was out of her side door in a New York second with both hands on her hips and sending down a stare that would peel live flesh from bone. I barely had time to turn to Lee and squawk, "Oh shoot, it's Margie" before she began her march of death towards my open garage door. Here she came and while it looks as if she's walking in slow motion, I'm yelling at Lee at the top of my lings to cut it down. Now get this; He knows she is marching down her driveway to cut us into ribbons, but he doesn't care. He don't care because he doesn't live across the street from Margie. Rather, he gets to go home and leave me in the ashes of a battle lost so what does he do? He stands there (grinning, of course) and keeps right on playing. Now he's midway through "Hell Ain't a Bad Place To Be" and there she stands. Hands on hips, smoke billowing from her nostrils and fire jetting from her eyes, this woman is not happy and man, don't I know it. "Raymond Mauldin" she says. "I was young once and I do know who AC/DC is and I don't mind hearing it every now and then but if you don't mind, either keep this door shut when you're playing or walk up there and give me a warning before you crank that dammed noise box up. I've got a broken bowl of brown gravy in the middle of my kitchen floor and a headache the size of Texas to show for graciousness today. I just stood there, opened mouthed when Lee quickly quipped from behind me, "Hey Margie, you ever heard of Metallica" and zoomed straight into "Seek and Destroy?" It was at that moment when I saw her pull what looked to be a large kitchen knife from her girdalooms and head for Lee. I screamed like a girl and ran for the office. The guitar quickly stopped making sounds, I heard some furniture being moved and then, it was silent. Quiet as a church mouse. I've been afraid to go back into the garage since, but I've also not heard from either Margie or Lee in over a week. Well, at least I'm still alive and will be at the Orlando show by myself unless my tall business partner makes an unlikely appearance. I did manage to check the mail one time and found what looked to be a strip of fur pelt in the pecan tree next to my driveway. I wonder if it was hers or his...?