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Why does fender put the logo in the wrong place on Vintera 50s Precision?

What do I think?

1) I think nobody noticed but you.

2) If they are the manufacturer/designer of the bass, it is (quite literally) impossible for them to place the decal in the "wrong" location. If they placed it upside down on the back of the head, and did that for every single one of those models, it would be correct, and as intended.

3) Nobody noticed but you.

4) This only bothers you.

5) Nobody cares but you.

6) Over the years, lots of Fender decals have been this close to the edge.

7) It has never bothered anyone..... except you. :cool:

Sounds like a YOU problem more than a Me problem.
 
It’s true! The Edging Logo! Infamy!
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I can live with my precipice-teasing Greenie. My travel buddy…working on Phil Lynott covers on the Phil Jones while away on bitness. Had a Philly cheesesteak for dinner, and btw…go Phillies! Where were we again?
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Mama Rosa’s, London KY
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The bull elk is a very crafty animal for about fifty weeks of the year; his senses are so sharp that only an artful stalker can get within a thousand yards of him...

but when the rut comes on, in the autumn, any geek with the sense to blow an elk-whistle can lure a bull elk right up to his car in ten minutes if he can drive within hearing range.

The dumb bastards lose all control of themselves when the rut comes on. Their eyes glaze over, their ears pack up with hot wax, and their loins get heavy with blood. Anything that sounds like a cow elk in heat will fuse the central nervous systems of every bull on the mountain. They will race through the timbers like huge cannonballs, trampling small trees and scraping off bloody chunks of their own hair on the unyielding bark of the big ones.

They behave like sharks in a feeding frenzy, attacking each other with all the demented violence of human drug dealers gone mad on their own wares.
 
The bull elk is a very crafty animal for about fifty weeks of the year; his senses are so sharp that only an artful stalker can get within a thousand yards of him...

but when the rut comes on, in the autumn, any geek with the sense to blow an elk-whistle can lure a bull elk right up to his car in ten minutes if he can drive within hearing range.

The dumb bastards lose all control of themselves when the rut comes on. Their eyes glaze over, their ears pack up with hot wax, and their loins get heavy with blood. Anything that sounds like a cow elk in heat will fuse the central nervous systems of every bull on the mountain. They will race through the timbers like huge cannonballs, trampling small trees and scraping off bloody chunks of their own hair on the unyielding bark of the big ones.

They behave like sharks in a feeding frenzy, attacking each other with all the demented violence of human drug dealers gone mad on their own wares.
I can dig it.
 
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