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	The Feel of Quality   (January 26, 2006) There is an unmistakable feel to quality which cannot be faked. I wonder how many Americans even know this feeling. I was reminded the other day of the almost intuitive feel of durability and quality. I was in a large Berkeley-based recycling yard, Urban Ore, looking for a handle for a 50-year old American Standard bathroom faucet. Given the hardware's age, I expected to find boxes of them; instead, the bins were overflowing with modern single-handle faucet sets--the light-weight, planned-obsolescence variety sold in Home Depot and installed in McMansions and cheap remodels everywhere. I found only one old single-stem faucet, and it was locked in a case with other valuables. Surprised, I asked the clerk about the old faucets, and he reported that the local landlords snapped them up as soon as they came in. Then it struck me why: these faucets are basically indestructable. If you change the washers every once in awhile, these 50-year old work-horses will last another 50 years--or even a 100 years. Rather than show you a photo of a faucet, I am including a snapshot of myself with my 1976 Les Paul Deluxe electric guitar--another example of a quality which you feel the instant your hand grasps the guitar neck. Your first impression is weight--this guitar weighs ten pounds, about twice that of a $200 guitar at Costco. Your other initial impressions will be similarly positive: the sleek action, the comfort of the neck, the artful placement of the fret markers, the beauty of the sunburst design--I could go on, but you get the idea. My guitarist friends Steve Toma and Gayland Baker both own a number of Fender Stratocasters (a Telecaster or two may also be in their collections), for serious guitarists appreciate the subtle differences in various models of the classic Fender Strat. (I bought the Les Paul from Gayland 25 years ago.) Sadly, Fender has joined the parade of American manufacturers who affix their label to a range of products with varying levels of quality. As a result, there is a complex hierarchy of Stratocaster values--lower quality with no collectable value: made in Korea. Better quality: made in Mexico. Better still, with some collectable value: made in Japan. Most collectable, highest price: Made in the U.S. Yes, you can buy an "official" Stratocaster for a couple hundred bucks, but the feel of the thing is an embarrassment to the Fender brand. You can also buy a Les Paul knock-off, or a cheesy off-brand version of a Strat, but there is something inherently unsatisfying about these cheap guitars, even if they superficially look like "the real thing." You can't play them very long because they wear you out; they don't sound that good, and so you give up. In contrast, plug in my Les Paul (and this one is from the low point in American guitar-making history) and even a lousy player like myself sounds golden. Like the solid, heavy American Standard faucet, this 30-year old guitar will still sound good in 50 years. Yes, a new one costs a couple thousand dollars; but there's a reason, and that's the reason to want one, to save your nickels and dimes, and to scour the bulletin boards for a used one: to feel a certain inexpressible joy every time you pick it up to play. * * * copyright © 2006 Charles Hugh Smith. All rights reserved in all media. I would be honored if you linked this wEssay to your site, or printed a copy for your own use. * * *
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