Paul Reed Smith has come a long way from tinkering on guitars and amplifiers as a teenager in his Bowie, Md., home. His eponymous company, now in its 25th year, employs 230 people at a Stevensville, Md., factory, and his instruments are played by guitar virtuosos from Al Di Meola to Carlos Santana. Guitar World magazine credits Smith’s high-quality instruments with spawning “a full-blown American guitar renaissance.” CL interviewed Smith in January and learned that his passion for making guitars is rivaled only by his passion for playing them—and also for fishing in the Chesapeake Bay.
> My father wanted me to be what he was, a mathematician. That’s what my son wants to be. It must skip a generation.
> [When I was starting out] I’d say, ‘Here, play my guitar. What do you think?’ I didn’t have anything to lose.
> I always thought I had a lot to offer. Initially, no one really thought so. There are other people in the world who think they have a lot to offer and everybody says, ‘You do. You do.’ I was on the other side. I thought I had a lot to offer and people were saying, ‘No you don’t. No you don’t. No you don’t.’ It’s courage. It’s not confidence. Confidence is something that’s earned.
> I wasn’t going to survive in a one- or three-person shop anymore. [When we started the company], the goal was survival. There was no way I was going to be able to raise a family or send kids to college or anything like that on the income I was making. We wanted to do well while we did well, if you know what I mean. To take care of our employees while they took care of us. A symbiotic relationship. I think it’s gone pretty well.
> There are really good people here. Salt-of-the-earth people in this area. And I mean that in a very positive way.
> You just don’t hear people say the word ‘terrific’ anymore.
> Getting older sucks. What you get is a much better view of the world, and you gain confidence in the heat of battle. But your body just doesn’t continue to work the same way.
> I like snooping around in estuaries.
> I grew up fishing on the Patuxent River five days a week as a kid. My father owned a boat and we were always out on the Chesapeake Bay.
> I’ll tell you one thing that’s disturbing. I went fishing off the Bay Bridge last year and I got my quota of rockfish quickly and they were all sick. There’s something really wrong. When I was a kid they weren’t that sick.
> It’s been a very, very difficult economy. I’m not sure if we’ve had our best year or the worst year. It would be the best year if we should have gone out of business and we didn’t. And it would be the worst year because we’re just breaking even.
> Two-hundred and thirty people work here. That’s a lot of responsibility. You know what it feels like to have a fire at the door. Got to protect what’s inside.
> M. Scott Peck, who wrote “The Road Less Traveled,” said that life is difficult, and when you finally accept that life is difficult, then it becomes way less difficult. I’m trying to absorb that one.
> I don’t like making a defining moment on a journey.
> Is my journey a success? I don’t know. I’m not done yet.
> I get a rush out of good performances—whether they’re playing my guitars or not. I get a rush out of wonderful instruments. I still get goose bumps.
> What’s it like to have Carlos Santana play an instrument with my name on it? Awesome.
> The industry is split into three sections. The people who are working hard to [produce] the best they can. The people who are just [coasting] along. And the people who believe you can buy something for a tenth the cost of something old and it sounds just as good.
> I walk down to the factory constantly. I was down there this morning. I was down there this past weekend carving necks. I like making guitars.
> I get more of a rush from playing guitars than making them. But it would probably be the other way around if I spent more time playing them than making them. I really enjoy playing guitar. Really enjoy it. You can’t get the smile off my face.
> Do I feel like a success? The only way I can answer that question is that on my 40th birthday and my 50th birthday, I felt like celebrating.
> It’s the American dream come true.

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