The Orlando Sentinel from Orlando, Florida • Page 151

JFEW MOMENTS The Guitar Factory Making electric instruments the old-fashioned way By Sarah Tippit There's something different about these three aging hippies from College Park, who manufacture and repair guitars in an old junk-filled depot building on Robinson Street. It's not the atmosphere they work in, which is very Let It Be in style: a dusty old Coke machine that doesn't work, a great-grandmother's grimy couch in a corner, a sitar hanging from a rafter. Maybe it's their attitude. For one thing, they're not fond of the swarm of Deadheads around, fans of the Grateful Dead who have buzzed into town in hand-painted VW buses for a concert. "Hey man, got any vintage effects for sale?" says one who wanders inside.

Bill Fels' eyes narrow. "Nope. If I did, I'd turn 'em in for dead presidents dollars," make them," says Fels, pointing to a pile of rare woods from the Brazilian rain forests that will be cut, glued and honed into guitars on several rickety, hand-made contraptions. "In Japan, Korea, you feed some wood into a machine and it spits out a guitar. It's all numerically controlled.

We have no computer. We have no control!" Fels says laughing. Making guitars by hand is incredibly labor-intensive. Prior to receiving stain and varnish, each guitar gets at least 50 hours of heavy elbow grease. "I think manufacturing is something that is intuitive," says Montgomery, who is busily sanding with a piece of rough paper and his bare hands.

"I don't think you can learn how to make something from nothing. It seems you already have to know how to do it. It may be inher PHOTO BY JOHN RAOUX The Guitar Factory is Eric Nicholson from left), Doug Montgomery and Bill Fels. ited, I don't know." How do you know when you're done sanding? "When you can't find anymore scratches, and then you do it again. Sometimes you sand and sand and sand and you never get anywhere," Montgomery says, attacking a corner with a metal file.

In recent years, business picked up enough so the two men were able to add an employee: Eric Nicholson, 34. A quiet fellow with long, brown hair, Nicholson stands at a table, sponging glaze onto a fretless guitar intended for a Ringling Brothers performer. Can't beat Nicholson's hard work and serious dedication, Montgomery says. He helps them turn around a guitar in as little as three weeks, cutting production time in half and indirectly helping the rain forests. "I don't know how much longer quality woods will be around," Montgomery says.

"You kind of have a responsibility not to use it up on cheese-ball products." Sarah Tippit in an Orlando writer. Fels says. "Cool. What's this?" says the Deadhead, peering at a cluster of electronics parts atop a dingy glass counter. "It's a 1950s tube radio, and it's not for sale either." "Should we put a sign on the door that says 'No tie-dye'?" Fels says to his partner, Doug Montgomery, after the youth leaves.

"Or should we go home early?" "Well, the chances of getting murdered by a Deadhead are slim," reasons Montgomery, 43. "True," says Fels, 44. "We had more problems with Metallica or was it the ACDC concert when they tore out our railing? It's not like they burned us down," Montgomery says. 'The fickle five-fingered lifting of fate' it's hard to watch 20 people," says Fels. "We're getting to sound like our parents," says Montgomery.

"True," says Fels. Keeping their hair long and their attitude mellow definitely is still a priority for Fels and Montgomery, but hanging out like the young Deadheads is no longer so cool since these men decided to open their own business seven years ago with three tools and $2,000. Like, rent was a problem. Except for the famous "Shove It" guitar they made for Johnny Paycheck in the '70s before he went to jail, back in the days when they were working for other people, they didn't have many famous customers and had to work hard on repairs for local musicians. But Maybe it's that major manufacturers are recommending them for warranty work.

Or maybe it's their friend who works over at the O-rena across the street who talks them up. But lately, famous people have started drifting into the shop to buy their products. Rick Derringer, Jimmy Buffett, Kirk Hammett from Metallica, Chris Squires from Yes, Pat Travers, Emerson, Lake and Palmer have all been by to order guitars. "We had a guy from the Allman Brothers call, I was talking to him, and he said, Vital statistics Motto: 'Good, fast and cheap. Please choose two of the Favorite quote: From Pat Travers, accompanying a picture of their handiwork in Guitarist magazine: 'It's an amazing Teah, I've been in your shop.

You're in back of the Fels says. "I never knew he was in here." "Guys bring stuff here from New York or L.A. They feel comfortable with somebody, then they let you work on their stuff. It's kinda cliquey," Montgomery says with a shrug. The problem, say the two men, who earn less than your average garbage collector, is trying to work fast while keeping prices down, to compete with the large companies that mass-produce guitars using computers.

"We have no machines that magically.