It's at my parents' house - my father's oboe. He played it in college on scholarship, and let me use it as a kid. He would hand-make reeds for me.
Want to make your 5th grader paranoid about taking a musical instrument to school for band? Hand him your grenadilla wood & sterling silver oboe. The irony is that we were of such modest means that we couldn't afford a rental instrument of a different variety. I defaulted to that oboe for about 4-5 years because it was already owned and all we could manage.
Thanks, Dad. It took me over 30 years to realize what you did there. I'm trying to imagine sending one of my kids on the school bus with my Les Paul.
My parents are hitting the point in life where they are saying, "please have us put your names on things you want just in case you need to go through them without us there."
I just asked Dad to put my name on that oboe.