Reading through this thread and thinking about my own experiences brought back many forgotten memories. Here is the story:
My father played in a rock band with his brother for a living, and so music was always around the house. It was a family affair. Impromptu jam sessions, recordings of my brother and I singing along, and random gear hoarding were common place. One day while home sick from school, I asked my father to teach me how to play guitar, and he got teary-eyed and said, “I’ve been waiting 12 years for you to ask me that.”
Fast forward some number of years, and my father and I played together on occasion and shared a love of anything guitar. One day (probably in the early 90s) he came home and said that he had found the ultimate guitar: PRS. We poured over the catalog, discussing each option, and he decided he was going to order one. Custom 24, vintage yellow flame 10 top, cherry back, 5-way rotary, sweet switch, HFS/VB, and a wide/fat neck. My father, being a big proponent of excess, believed that wide/fat was definitely the way to go compared to “regular”. That last detail would end up being a problem. After some time, the guitar came in and we went to pick it up. We opened the case, and the guitar looked heavenly. We plugged it in, and we both played it. We were absolutely blown away. I remember being particularly surprised that even with high gain I could hear each individual string when strummed. However, I had larger hands than my father. Even though I thought it played great, I would later come to find out that he hated the way it felt, and so he had a love-hate relationship with that amazing instrument, and his most prized possession, for as long as he owned it.
Many years later my father fell on hard times and had to sell the PRS to help make ends meet. I didn’t have the means at the time to help him, and I’m not sure where it ended up. For various reasons, my father and I don’t talk much anymore. However, reading this thread brought back a flood of memories from those formative years; so much so that I called him for the first time in a while as I typed this. Of course he didn’t answer, but I left a message and we’ll see. If he calls me back, I’ll be grateful to you guys for getting us back in touch (or very angry when I remember why we don’t talk anymore
).
So, in answer to the OP’s question, PRS Guitars is part of a special time in my life when my father and I were close, when life was comfortably simpler, and when some things made sense even though they weren’t perfect. However, I own the instruments today because I believe they make the very best.