Bob Womack
Well-known member
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2002
- Messages
- 2,266
One day in the last quarter of 1974 the folks in Kalamazoo, Michigan put together a guitar for the ages. It was a member of a very small group of guitars that weren't ever in the Gibson catalog. People had been crowing for a guitar of this configuration to be built for years, Gibson just couldn't get it, and made guitars under this moniker of various configurations, each drawing a boo! from their market. Finally, Gibson conceded the fight and put out a few of these guitars from 1973-75, special order only through their dealers. Gibson got one thing really, really right in this guitar: they installed in it a short-run pickup later called the "T-Top" humbucker that imparted a sweet sound to the affair. That same year, 1974, as a starving student, I began saving every spare penny for a guitar of this model. It took three years for me and the guitar to come together.
This guitar went to some lucky guy in Tennessee who traded it in to a dealer called "Pick n' Grin" in Knoxville, Tennessee, three years later. I had spent the three years chasing the price of a used guitar in a horribly inflationary period. I became known to the area dealers as I showed up in their stores a day late and a dollar short for the price of the guitar I was pursuing. Then in 1977 I got the called from a hot band and badly needed a good guitar. I took a chance, sold my only electric guitar, added that money to my little kitty, and set out on a tour of stores once more.
The racks were full of brand new electrics built at the new Gibson Nashville plant. This guitar sat in a corner, ignored. On this trip, one of the store managers I had pleaded with for years finally had mercy upon me and accepted my offer of less than the price on the ticket and I went home with my first professional electric guitar. It took me through a very productive growth period with that new band. An Aussie friend decided it needed a name. After due consideration she named the guitar, "Paulie," spoken with her Aussie accent, "Pwolie."
Three years later we played our first recording session together. As the years went by, people began throwing vague insults at the linage of my guitar, claiming it would never mature to a vintage guitar, would never be anything other than an OLD guitar. We will not argue this here. I knew nothing of its history so I began studying it intensely. Meanwhile, this guitar played lots of gigs and recording sessions with me and after many years, nostalgia from people of my age who played guitar in the '70s or who's guitar heroes played in the '70s propelled its value towards five figures. I never modified it significantly. When I had it refretted, the luthier who did the work asked to buy it on the spot when I went to pick it up.
So well, anyway, after a decade, "those who know" finally agree that the serial number of the guitar places it in 1974. The pots in the guitar witness to a last quarter of 1974 build date. There were only two built in 1975, so that makes this guitar one of the last of its breed: a Kalamazoo-built, special-order-only, Gibson Les Paul Standard, with a truss rod spelling out its model name in a small script. In short, a Gibson Kalamazoo Small Script Standard. Created in 1974.
So, Happy Birthday, Pauly!!!
Bob
This guitar went to some lucky guy in Tennessee who traded it in to a dealer called "Pick n' Grin" in Knoxville, Tennessee, three years later. I had spent the three years chasing the price of a used guitar in a horribly inflationary period. I became known to the area dealers as I showed up in their stores a day late and a dollar short for the price of the guitar I was pursuing. Then in 1977 I got the called from a hot band and badly needed a good guitar. I took a chance, sold my only electric guitar, added that money to my little kitty, and set out on a tour of stores once more.
The racks were full of brand new electrics built at the new Gibson Nashville plant. This guitar sat in a corner, ignored. On this trip, one of the store managers I had pleaded with for years finally had mercy upon me and accepted my offer of less than the price on the ticket and I went home with my first professional electric guitar. It took me through a very productive growth period with that new band. An Aussie friend decided it needed a name. After due consideration she named the guitar, "Paulie," spoken with her Aussie accent, "Pwolie."
Three years later we played our first recording session together. As the years went by, people began throwing vague insults at the linage of my guitar, claiming it would never mature to a vintage guitar, would never be anything other than an OLD guitar. We will not argue this here. I knew nothing of its history so I began studying it intensely. Meanwhile, this guitar played lots of gigs and recording sessions with me and after many years, nostalgia from people of my age who played guitar in the '70s or who's guitar heroes played in the '70s propelled its value towards five figures. I never modified it significantly. When I had it refretted, the luthier who did the work asked to buy it on the spot when I went to pick it up.
So well, anyway, after a decade, "those who know" finally agree that the serial number of the guitar places it in 1974. The pots in the guitar witness to a last quarter of 1974 build date. There were only two built in 1975, so that makes this guitar one of the last of its breed: a Kalamazoo-built, special-order-only, Gibson Les Paul Standard, with a truss rod spelling out its model name in a small script. In short, a Gibson Kalamazoo Small Script Standard. Created in 1974.
So, Happy Birthday, Pauly!!!
Bob
