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RR5 Rhoads??

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  • RR5 Rhoads??

    I am vaguely thinking of getting one of these as it is Just in my price range...I did a search but there doesnt appear to be a lot about them .[edit ..realised I only had it to search one day [img]/images/graemlins/laugh.gif[/img] oops )

    What are they like pro,s & cons etc ?

    many thanks

    Wolf [img]/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

  • #2
    Re: RR5 Rhoads??

    I think they are overpriced. Honestly I think you're better off getting a used RR1 or spending a couple hundred dollars more for a new RR1. If the RR5 were about $700 new, I would own one.

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    • #3
      Re: RR5 Rhoads??

      I own a RR5 and I love it. But..for a couple of hundred more, I would have went for the RR1. My husband got a music store credit card and got mine..so it's SUPER special. I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's what he could afford at the time. It feels great to me, sounds awesome, and looks amazing. I wish it had a floyd, but it's still great. Like Ron says "ebonize" the fretboard, toss some binding on it, and it's a RR1T LOL...

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      • #4
        Re: RR5 Rhoads??



        K many thanks [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

        I was thinking about it as I won a Christmas story writing Competition on a Guitar forum and have £750 to spend in there shop ..and the RR5 is exactly that price over here [img]/images/graemlins/laugh.gif[/img]

        So it's not really a case of being able to buy anything else .

        The Jackson fan in me would like one,the blues type person in me is thinking strat ..so just wanted to know the RR5 wasnt a dog [img]/images/graemlins/laugh.gif[/img] before I make my final decision !

        Wolf [img]/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

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        • #5
          Re: RR5 Rhoads??

          RR5s are excellent guitars. It was my second Jackson, and really sold me on the brand.

          You can't go wrong with it; it is well balanced, and super comfortable to play.


          - E.
          Good Lord! The rod up that man's butt must have a rod up its butt!

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          • #6
            Re: RR5 Rhoads??

            Cool, post that award-winning story here! [img]/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]
            "Quiet, numbskulls, I'm broadcasting!" -Moe Howard, "Micro-Phonies" (1945)

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            • #7
              Re: RR5 Rhoads??

              [ QUOTE ]
              Cool, post that award-winning story here! [img]/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]

              [/ QUOTE ]

              Okey dokey you asked for it [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img] It's pretty long lol

              -------------------------
              Once upon a time there was a little boy called Guitarwolf. He didn't believe in Father Christmas...... because a) he had never seen him and b) had never received any presents in the stripey stocking which he left outside his cave each year. Every Christmas Eve he watched as his fellow forest-dwelling Forumite friends played with their toys and then had to endure their endless tales of Father Christmas and his reindeer.

              Guitarwolf wondered why Father Christmas never visited him. His friends Flying Squirrel and LooseMoose felt sorry for him.

              "Maybe he thinks you have a bad attitude?" said Flying Squirrel.

              "Perhaps it's because your cave has no chimney?" piped up Moosey.

              "Or maybe it's because he just doesn't like me?" Guitarwolf moaned miserably. He shook his head and wandered slowly back to his cave, tail hanging between his legs. Bah humbug, he thought, sod the lot of them.

              Meanwhile Flying Squirrel and Moosey continued to decorate the Christmas tree and laughed at Ozz the friendly Troll writing his Christmas cards that noone would ever be able to read. Sounds of a guitar being strummed emanated from the depths of the dark caves deep inside the depths of the forest.

              "Guitarwolf is practising again." Ozz rolled his eyes.

              "He is actually getting a lot better , isn't he?" Moose listened intently.

              "It's taken him long enough ,", chuckled Flying Squirrel. "Finding that old abandoned guitar was the best thing thats ever happened to him, and possibly the worst thing for us lot..lol!"

              Ozz looked sad again. "Poor Wolf, its probably the only toy he is ever likely to get." They all nodded in agreement.

              " We can't ever tell him that its probably because the reindeer are scared of him, can we? It would break his heart". Moose muttered. "If only wolves didn't have such a scary reputation." he stretched up to hang a bauble at the top of the tree.

              "I blame Little Red Riding Hood" giggled Flying Squirrel.

              ""If only they could get to know Guitarwolf, then they too would grow to love him." Ozz said.

              They all returned to decorating the tree and discussing what they hoped Father Christmas would leave them that evening. Throughout the rest of the day, the forest was a hive of activity. All the forest creatures helped their families with preparing for the big day ahead; they sang carols around the campfire and when it came to bedtime, they all dared each other as to how long they could stay awake and watch out for the arrival of Father Christmas and the reindeer. The parents all nodded knowingly at each other - they'd heard it all before; not one of the children would be able to stay up long enough, no matter how excited they were.

              The bells from the nearby church tolled midnight, the snow fell thickly across the forest. Flying Squirrel was tucked up warm and snug beneath a blanket of leaves in his nest, inside the big oak tree. Moose was lying flat on his back on a bed of heather beside the glowing fire. Rabbits, foxes and doormice snored quietly all around.

              The only creature stirring was Guitarwolf. He paced miserably up and down inside the dark depths of his cave. He would have no problem staying awake to see Father Christmas (if he believed in him), he could easily stay awake that long, after all he was nocturnal! But he didn't believe in Father Christmas, he didn't want to see the sled flying across the sky, or wonder what was in the sack of presents. Father Christmas was a figment of the others creatures overly vivid imaginations. He picked up his guitar and began playing the blues, it was the only thing that made him happy at a time like this. He wailed along to the tune....

              (Doo doo di doo)
              Sat in my cave, no pressies for me
              (Doo doo di doo)
              An empty space beneath my unlit Christmas tree
              (Doo doo di doo)
              I fancy a drink, but trifle is all I'll get
              Although I've put out a glass of sherry but Santa, he'll probably forget

              His howls could be heard for miles, the sound of his guitar carried on the wind. Guitarwolf was lost in his own private melancholy. He played with all his heart and soul.

              Suddenly he heard a noise outside his cave. He played even louder. Whoever was coming to tell him to shut up could damn well bugger off. It was his own cave and he could cry if he wanted to.

              The noise outside began to grow louder and Guitarwolf put down his guitar and crept slowly to the mouth of the cave. He poked his head nervously outside, a large snowflake landed on his grey snout, he wriggled hard to shake it off. He slunk low to the ground and outisde of the cave. He gazed in wonder at the snowy scene infront of him. Guitarwolf loved the snow, almost as much as he loved cake. A large snowdrift had formed against the outer wall of the cave, he jumped headlong into the drift until the snow covered way above his head. And then he jumped out again and rolled over and over across the snowy forest floor, giggling loudly to himself. Maybe Christmas wasn't quite so bad after all.

              He stopped to catch his breath and suddenly took a deep breath. Ten pairs of eyes blinked at him from the darkness. He nervously slunk back towards the cave, thinking that if he kept low to the ground they wouldn't see him. A voice boomed across the clearing.

              "Isn't snow wonderful? We never get nearly enough."

              Guitarwolf looked from the safety of the cave to where the voice had come from. A small round man, dressed in red, with a long white beard and thick shiny black belt. Guitarwolf nodded mutely to the man with the deep friendly voice.

              "I'm sorry if we startled you young wolf cub. We heard your music and came to listen. I've been telling my reindeer for years that wolves aren't scary but they really can be very stubborn creatures and they didn't believe me, did you?" he turned towards the other nine pairs of eyes which shuffled slightly closer. Guitarwolf peered at them through the moonlight. He saw six large hooved creatures that looked vaguely like Moosey, one of them had a large red glowing nose.

              "Perhaps you should play another tune for them and then they might give you some presents. Ho ho ho! " the old man laughed.

              A light bulb pinged on inside Guitarwolf's brain.

              "Are you Father Christmas?" he asked quietly.

              "Yes son, I most certainly am. I've been wanting to deliver presents to you for the past few years but the silly reindeers are far too scared. I'm terribly sorry. But this year, they heard your guitar playing and being particularly inquisitive creatures, decided to stop and investigate."

              "Would they like me to play them another tune?" Guitarwolf was growing happier by the moment. He ran back into his cave, grabbed his guitar between his paws and ambled back outside again, full of enthusiasm and excited to have such an important audience.

              "I'd love you to son, but we don't have time." Father Christmas looked at his watch.

              The reindeer with the big red nose, whispered something to Father Christmas, who laughed loudly.

              "That's the best idea you've had this winter Rudolph." He turned back towards Guitarwolf.

              " Rudolph would like you to accompany us whilst we deliver presents all over the world. Would you like to come with us?"

              Guitarwolf grinned widely and nodded. Christmas rocked!!

              "It would be lovely to have some music whilst we do our delivery round and also having a big bad wolf on board might ward of those grumpy people who try to steal the spirit of Christmas from us. Let me introduce you to the boys"

              Guitarwolf walked up to the reindeer and held his paw of friendship for each to shake.

              "Dasher, Comet, Cupid, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Donner, Blitzen and Rudolph." Guitarwolf beamed at his new friends and before Father Christmas could change his mind, he jumped onto the sledge and started playing Christmas carols loudly. Father Christmas sat down next to him, shook the reins and slowly the bells started jangling and the sled lifted up into the air. Guitarwolf watched in awe as the earth fell away beneath them. Soon they were up above the clouds, with only the twinkling stars and the bright moon to guide them on their journey. Guitarwolf strummed loudly, and the reindeer hummed along to the tunes of his choice, they even occasionally let him have a rest from playing and performed their own a capella barbershop versions of popular Christmas carols. They flew from continent to continent, across seas and mountains, under bridges and over lakes. Each time the sled landed on a rooftop, Guitarwolf marvelled at the sights and sounds around him. He'd always wanted to visit America, Italy, India and New Zealand, and now he was. If he had fingers he would have pinched himself!

              Hours passed and Guitarwolf began to feel sleepy, he could sense the reindeer were slowing down too. He looked at the land whizzing past beneath him and realised they were back in England, he recognised the land, the twisting river and the dark depths of the forest....his home was within sight. Guitarwolf began strumming his favourite Jingle Bells, the reindeer all joined in singing with his howls and jingled their bells madly in time to the music. Father Christmas alternately chuckled and yawned. The bells on the sled tinkled more quietly as it began its descent into the snow covered clearing. The snow had stopped falling and everywhere was serene and calm in the pre-dawn darkness. The sled drew to a halt. Father Christmas helped the sleepy Guitarwolf down onto the ground.

              "Thank you for all your help. It's made the journey much more fun. We'll be back to pick you up again next year."

              " Will you really?" Guitarwolf was amazed but ever so proud.

              "You betcha!" Rudolph winked at him.

              Father Christmas hugged Guitarwolf and then climbed slowly back onto the sled. He leant into the sack that never seemed to get smaller and pulled out a large present with a large red bow on it. He handed it to Guitarwolf.

              "This should make up for the past few years. Ho ho ho!" The bells began tinkling again, and the sled began to rise.

              And Guitarwolf waved to Father Christmas as Rudolph pulled him through the clouds, over the rooftops and into the darkness. Guitarwolf thought, "how will anyone ever believe my story about Father Christmas?"

              ------------------

              Btw to go back to topic..I have pretty much decided to get a US strat now as my prize and then save and get a RR1T in the future as although I love the RR5 I think I would wish it was a RR1T too much [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

              Wolf [img]/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

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              • #8
                Re: RR5 Rhoads??

                very nice story wolf11, this story had to win!

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                • #9
                  Re: RR5 Rhoads??

                  I would have picked it based soley on the number of words.

                  Buy the RR5, it is a killer guitar.
                  Tarbaby Fraser.

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                  • #10
                    Re: RR5 Rhoads??

                    Try the classifieds right here and you might find a nice second hand RR.
                    You took too much, man. Too much. Too much.

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