I was talking to Lee the other day about me finally getting a chance to raid the 'Elk vault for some vintage stuff to put up on our site. He was, as usual looking at his 'puter screen and talking on the phone at the same time so all I got was a nod and a wave of his hand. Now, some folks might view this as a dismissal, but I saw it as a chance to wander around a room full of nekkid women, all smiling to me and calling my name. So I rambled into the sacred interior of the 'Elkcave and pulled out several things. All were exceptionally clean, but this particular SG Jr. just spoke to me in several ways. First, the neck is nothing short of supreme and it fit my hands like it was made just for me 52 years ago. Secondly, the guitar is resonant as heck. It's exceptionally quiet in the "Room of Holys" and I could hear and feel every note and chord strummed on this fine girl. Now it was time for the final test and since I'm a bassist, I had to convince the tall one to put the guitar though it's paces, but how to do it was the question. I went back to the office and peeked around the corner. There he was, yappin' on the phone (still) and it didn't look like he was in the mood to be torn away, so I did what every novice guitarist that goes into Guitar Center does all too often: I went to an amp, plugged in and played too loudly. I dialed one of our test amps out as best I could and started working on "Jailbreak" by Thin Lizzy. In a word- atrocious. One of Lee's all- time favorite bands is Thin Lizzy, so when he heard me butchering what was one of their easiest songs, here he came, stomping up the steps and let me say that he was not smiling. "Gimme that" he growled and started tuning the thing up (I forgot to do that and I can never get the B string right anyway). He tuned this axe up in what seemed like less than a couple of seconds and then started fiddling with the amp. All this time, I'm trying not to get caught smiling because he had fallen into my brilliant and deviously crafted plan without suspecting a thing. He fixed the amp, strummed a few chords and launched into "Jailbreak" the way it was meant to be played. It was at that exact moment that I named this guitar "Pissin' Razors" because it is hands- down the rawest Junior we have in the place. Just pure attitude and jagged tone- now I'm grinning like a poop- eating dog because that song sounded great The tall one wore out the first half of that song and then jumped straight into "Black Betty" by Ram Jam. He had found his groove and this axe just seemed to come alive in his hands. Maybe that's why these things should be played and not stashed away in the dark. It's like they die a little more every year they're put away and left alone. Man, I thought I had pulled off the coup of the year when he stopped playing, unplugged the guitar and put it back in it's case. Sensing retribution, I immediately put on my innocent face, but he caught it and look dead at me. "The next time you want me to check out an axe, just ask me and I'll be there shortly. You're not really all that smart and you're so short, I can see your feet on your drivers license". As he walked out of the room, I secretly smiled to myself because as in that great Mel Gibson movie, "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome", the little guy was Master and the big, dumb lug was Blaster. I think you all know who ran Bartertown...