back in late '67, early '68 I was drivin' my parents crazy to buy me a LP and I would work it off.
for some reason, my Dad suggested that we should build one. he was a fabulous woodworker and my uncle frank was a bit of an electronic genius.
so we did, at least they did ... I mostly sat around and watched and sanded.
every time we worked on it my Mom would come out to the garage several times and say ... "Sam, Frank ... you aren't givin' him any beer are you" ... and they weren't.
I was 17 at the time.
anyway, my Dad and Uncle Frank built the guitar. UF wound and wired the pickups from scratch.
I played that guitar as my only one for 30 years until we lost everything in a fire in 1998. Man, that hurt.
when it was finally ready in October '68, my dad said ... son, take a look under the bench, there were several beer.
so we celebrated listening to a bunch of stuff they didn't like but also a bunch of country that they did, and I did also.
my uncle took me back to his place for the nite, my mom never found out.
man, that was a sweet guitar. I didn't know **** at the time.
I would give anything, to be able to spend an hour with my mom and dad to chat and give them a big hug and tell them how much I love them (even tho they are gone now). and my aunt and uncle. I simply didn't "get it" at that age.