Being the age of the typical grandfather, but instead having children the age of grandkids has given me some great perspective on life. Not that I see things all that differently than your average 60-year-old (next birthday), but like some strange breed of super-hero I have had to cultivate the ability to see things simultaneously through the eyes of father and child, as if my level of appreciation for life’s wonders is the gift of seeing at glance from chronologically disparate vantage points, a potentially confusing and befuddling position. It also helps me to stay on the positive side of the number of “grandpas” I get on the average weekend outing with my 3-, 7- and 9-year-olds.

Being mistaken for someone old enough to have fathered an older generation of children is a re-occurring phenomenon. As a result, I tend often to reflect on my perspective in terms of “I’m old enough to … but young enough to …” Let me give you an example. I’m wheeling my (then) 2-year-old around Babies-R-Us looking at DVD entertainment when a saleslady comes out from between the aisles and smiles, excitedly exclaiming “Oh, what a precious little boy! I bet he’s having a great time out with his grandpa today!” Yeah, and that would be true except grandpa’s playing tennis at home in Florida and it’s his dad that’s wheeling the kid around the store to find the latest and greatest Disney offering. On another day we’re in the pet store and my 3-year-old daughter, captivated by a small, excited, tail-wagger on a leash, says to a fellow shopper, “Excuse me, I need to pet this dog,” to which the owner replies, “OK, honey, if it’s all right with your …” and I hurry to interject “Dad, and thanks for wondering.”

Now, I’m not complaining, but this should explain how I got in this groove of “old enough to, but young enough that” or “young enough that, but old enough to.” They’re sort of interchangeable, but either way make the basis for great standup … although while I’m young enough to see myself performing as a comedian for a living, I’m old enough to know that a career change this late in the game is likely not to happen. Oops! There’s the perspective again. Consider these, and let me know if I should consider hitting the comedy club circuit. For the sake of brevity, I’ll leave out anything but the comparisons.

• I’m young enough to think salt and pepper hair is cool, but old enough to know that any pepper I have has got to come from a bottle or a box.

• I’m young enough to wear an outrageous Grateful-Dead-esque tie-die with my jeans, but old enough to want to cover it with a plain Nautica windbreaker.

• I’m old enough to have attended the first Woodstock, but young enough to still want to wear the t-shirt just for its list of bands.

• Old enough to enjoy CBS Sunday morning, young enough to appreciate the adventures of Dora the Explorer or her cousin Diego.

• Young enough to empathize with the kids’ reluctance to wash up before bed, old enough to know you’re courting a bad complexion and periodontal failure later if you don’t follow the routine.

• Old enough to have learned that success comes from repeating something proven successful in the past, young enough to throw caution to the wind and experiment frequently.

• Young enough to be disappointed when you wake up and the sun is hiding behind a potential rainstorm, old enough to appreciate the contrast in the light, the promise of renewing rain, and the smell of the air (unless of course, you had planned to sail, ski, or picnic).

I think when the “grandpa” comments inevitably yield to or culminate in a “they’ll keep you young” is when it hits home that it’s really your perspective that counts. I always consider responding with “or change this (pointing to my hair) to completely white!” I think the reference is Biblical, and I’m sure I’m paraphrasing but I’ve heard “Lest ye be as children you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.” I’ve realized that means that as you grow older, you’ve got to continue to see things with wide-open eyes, as if you’re seeing things for the first time, unbiased, not spoiled by what is inevitably some of the unfortunate perspective and potential negativity that comes with experience gained through aging. In that regard, I’ve got an edge, since I’m constantly exploring through the eyes of my (not grandkids those are my) children. While I’m old enough to know that not every cloud has a silver lining, I’m young enough to continue to look for the shine, because while I’m old enough to have silver hair and my own beautiful little kids at the same time, I’m young enough that even when I know the forecast is rain, I’ll continue to be an optimist and get up early to see if the sun is shining brightly.

The cell phone again. Another 800 number? Oh well, it’ got to be one of the credit card companies, or lease companies. Maybe it’s a utility company warning me of an interruption in service, or maybe, hopefully, it’s just a wrong number. I don’t think I have the strength to answer and find out, lest I be distracted from …. From what? Did I just fall asleep? There are so many quotes to follow up. Maybe they’ll all convert to real business. I hope all the checks that should have been here last week get here today so I can cover what I wrote on Friday. Gosh my help is in a bad mood. I wish the contractor had not been so emphatic about us gearing our Monday morning toward finishing up just so we could show up (now how long till we finish and get that big check still owed us?) only to find the sub before us hadn’t done his job so the site was not ready for us. What a crappy way to start the week.

Another 800 number. Is there no end to this? The mortgage. When will they learn I pay in arrears? I don’t have the cash flow at the start of the month because there are too many commitments for business obligations. Hope they don’t report my curt but polite style of responding to them to the credit bureau; my fico score has dropped too far from all the personal guarantees I’ve made for the company anyway. What am I going to do about all the personal loans people have made me? Everybody is hurting and wants to be paid back. I’ve never stiffed anyone. There haven’t been any commitments made for obligations that were inconsistent with our needs or how we were growing. It’s not like I’m going to declare chapter whatever and someone is there with a check already written so we can start over clean and move on. We’re no car company, that’s for sure.

Nope, definitely not too big to fail. But I won’t. What, with all this business I’ve been promised and we’ve been specified for and with what I’m quoting everyday, this is going to work out, it’s just got to. I know it will. Gosh this makes me tired. Glad I started the day at the gym. Maybe if I rest my eyes for just a second …

This pseudo sci-fi blog is patterned after the Twilight Zone episode about the sick girl who thinks she’s going to fry because the earth’s been knocked out of orbit and is headed toward the sun. She wakes from a dream to find that the earth is moving away and she’s freezing instead. The big difference between that girl and me is that neither of her realities was borne of any optimism, and both of my vignettes end on the up-beat. It is said that “he who is always waiting for things to turn up has his eyes focused on the ground.” Work with optimism. Whether you subscribe to the philosophy of Oscar Wilde, who said “The basis of optimism is sheer terror” or Lucille Ball, who said “One of the things I learned the hard way was that it doesn’t pay to get discouraged. Keeping busy and making optimism a way of life can restore your faith in yourself,” I’ve read and believe that life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you react to it. I’ve been a character in both vignettes, and here I am, writing to tell about it, and still smiling.

VERSE: There was danger, round the bend, but I never saw it coming, no I never saw it at all, till it was me

I thought every-thing was fine, that the work would be a plenty, yes I thought it would be all fine, till it was me

BRIDGE: First it was work load, and then it was cash flow, but I thought, it can’t be bad long term for me, you see?

With my friends, saying “hey, all the work will keep on coming,” I refused to believe it at all, cause it was me

GUITAR SOLO: (This is the time that George Harrison played an abbreviated and maybe not-so-memorable break, and where I pause for reflection on where this is headed …)

BRIDGE: But now I sit, at 2 in the morning, I can’t sleep, cause of what I did not do, or see, now it’s me

CLOSE: In a crowd, but apart, I thought I could hear a bell toll, but refused to hear it at all, cause it was me. Till, it was me … cha cha cha

As a blogger, I feel responsible for passing along a constructive message along with what might be construed occasionally as just a “rant,” wishing always, of course, that I could do the job as well as comedian Dennis Miller did for eight years on HBO. This time it has personal implications because I find myself in a “less than stellar” situation at the old glass factory and in the midst of working my way back to “the comfort zone” it occurred to me that I should recognize the fact that nobody has escaped what’s been happening in our economy, even I, who felt somewhat insulated as a “specialty” provider. I once wrote that “some corners don’t typically get cut” and at the time, thought that would be the case and the demand for our particular specialty would be constant. In fact we’ve seen cutbacks and variances that have affected our business at just about every turn. Lots of conversation with my peers reveals similar circumstance.

Humor me, and re-read my last line of plugged in lyrics, and try to remember the original quotation by John Donne from way, way back in the 17th century (OK, I’m not a literary scholar, but this is pertinent, and I Googled it for accuracy) and everyone should find some part of this familiar: “No man is an island, entire of itself….any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee……”

Here’s the Stew interpretation of that prose (Stew’s View): We are, and have been, all in this together. People don’t thrive when isolated from each other, so interact with your peers and get a handle on what might be adversely affecting them, help if you can, learn from their circumstances (but examine, and re-examine your own, and do it often). Keep looking to make sure that what is going around doesn’t necessarily come around. Oh yeah, and don’t stand in the tracks watching a train coming until it’s too late to get out of the way, or as Emeril would say: BAM!!

Once again, Mr. Stew has had an opportunity to learn firsthand how many things can, and in fact will, go wrong in any situation where interpreting what “the specifier intended,” is the basis for providing a decorative glass solution, especially if you’re not supplying what was asked for. Now, if you check the record, I once spoke about the benefits of “not trying to copy” someone else’s work (CLICK HERE to read more), or imitate a style to get a sale or “be the solution,” but rather to do what you do best and stop there. OK, so this is certainly a situation where I should have looked in the mirror and said “Hey, you … do what I say, and not as you are about to do!”

To synopsize, I was asked to provide (with a shorter lead time and at presumably a better price) a product that was made using a slightly different process than we use in our shop, which of course, predictably, yields a product with a different finish than that typically identified with our manufacture. Additionally, this product was to be provided in a color and applied by a process that we had just started using (along with the new coloring agent).

In order, here’s the chain of events (Please remember I opened by saying “there has to be an open communication between [in this case] she who specified it, and he who’s making it [me, hereinafter referred to as "supplier"]). It unfolds as follows:

Architect specifies product A.

General contractor orders (decorative glass) product A from glazing contractor, late enough in the construction schedule to be problematic for timely delivery from specified source.

Glazing contractor, seeking an alternative, seeks out decorative glass supplier (me) and asks for a more timely, cost-efficient alternative for submittal to approve as suitable alternative (Not once has supplier [me] talked to architect about the desired outcome, flavor, feel, intent or seen anything to help determine suitability of the “soon to be proposed” alternative).

Supplier submits sample; rejected. Supplier submits second sample; accepted for color only. Supplier submits third sample; accepted for texture.

Supplier moves to full-scale production, and while the glass for the job that is produced is “close” to the submitted samples, it is not exact. Since time is of the essence (product is due on site) and supplier, not having the benefit of dialogue with the architect, applies his (my) own subjective judgment and delivers the product as “suitably close” to the spec.

After all, this is “art,” hand-rendered, and one of a kind, so it has to be OK. Not OK.

I’m writing this on the plane that I’m taking to get home after meeting with the architect, who said, in effect, that even the sample that had been approved was not what was desired and had been shown in hand-rendered art to the owner. Since the glass supplied was not 100 percent true to the “representative sample” (what exactly constitutes representative, anyway?) the architect has exercised his (her) right to say “unacceptable” and I’m now in a position to have to remake the project with the understanding that “we need to come closer to the original spec.”

The glazing contractor feels that if we replicate the glass that was approved as submitted, that we have fulfilled our contractual obligation, but I’m coming away knowing that since anything I make is a substitute for what the architects wanted–and over whose choice an agonizing debate had probably taken place. It would appear to be a lose-lose situation for more than one party.

The moral of the story (we don’t know the outcome yet) is this: You can best serve your buying public by ensuring that open communication exists all the way up and down the order chain. The architect needs to communicate the choice of product emphatically, but must be aware of limitations in production time or specifications. The general contractor needs to know that a glazing contractor has limited choices for procurement, and in the case of an esoteric art glass, produced by one company, there is going to be a specific lead time and costs that are dictated by the manufacturer and not changeable simply by request of anyone else in the order chain. The glazing contractor needs to make sure that a bid was made allowing for manufacturer’s lead-time, specifications and any potential supply problems or schedule conflicts. Last but not least, the decorative glass supplier or manufacturer needs to supply what was asked for at the beginning of the process, and gather any necessary information to make alternatives suitable, well placed, and in the interest of the owner and especially those who started the creative process to begin with. This is how customers are best served.

Thanks Bernard.

Epilogue:
I supplied a new sample, working with the focus placed on “creating glass that met the intended desire of the architect and owner,” but knowing that it was not going to be the same glass as had been originally specified (from another company) but a very suitable alternative. Risky business, since I’ve made a decision not to remake what they approved (but I know they didn’t like) and I’m presuming my approach to “be a mind reader and produce accordingly” will be the better one. I went ahead and made it, sent it, and it was installed in situ, and tentatively approved (reluctantly or not I don’t know, since once again I’m not there, or directly a part of the conversation). I have subsequently remanufactured the balance of the offending lites, which the glazing contractor traveled a great distance to procure from me (can you say already losing money) and drive to the jobsite to install timely. Word has it (glazing contractor loves it, and says the general contractor likes it) that this time we hit the mark, but I’m waiting on written documentation.

Post-Script:
Received word in writing today as follows: Installed glass is accepted and approved by architect and owner. Whew! (Another valuable lesson learned the hard way!)

I recently provided a custom job to a new client, who, from the beginning, was a little misguided as to terms. I explained a customary deposit protocol for starting this type of job, and in exchange I got a written purchase order with net 45 written in under “terms.” (A deposit, reiterated by me as necessary, came much later, delaying the start-up, and had a ship date request that was sooner than the promised turn-around date). I asked for balance of payment when we were ready to ship, and I (mistakenly) got a forwarded e-mail in which my terms were described as “BS.”

Now, I know after so many years in business it’s better to just ignore those little things, but that day I just felt like using my writing skills in an “artistic, illustrative” fashion to make a point. So I proceeded to draw an analogy between my customer’s expectation for terms, and other situations where you traditionally buy things and pay for them before you get them unseen but custom to order (for example, a pair of altered slacks from a popular catalog company … off the shelf style, but tailored to fit). I suggested that my customer should try buying a product and offer to pay half the bill and then the balance after they received, tried on, and decided that they “liked” what they had ordered. All this zipped off in an e-mail to both my contact and the billing contact at the company and delivered in short order. Please understand. This was a new customer with whom communication had already seemed a little difficult. And I could have said, “I’m sorry, we don’t have any other terms than these,” or said nothing at all, but on this day chose not to go that route.

In my defense, I did call one party to whom the mail was directed and let them know I was sending it, and asked them to let the other party know that it was meant to be read with some sense of humor, and as a friendly retort, nothing more. I figured that would be that.

But wait, there’s more!

It turns out that our product had been specified by a huge design firm (new to us, but thankfully, still friends) and I received, within a short period of time, a frighteningly disturbing e-mail attached to a copy of my letter, which said, in part that “in all the years of doing business … never received a response such as this … left me with such an ill feeling … will never specify, recommend or approve the purchase of a product or service provided by your company.”

Simply shocked, I could not understand why on earth, especially after mitigating the potential impact of my comments with a phone call, anyone would want to forward this and put such a negative “spin” on my comments that they would illicit this kind of reaction … from a third party. My immediate thoughts were: “Oh no, who’s going to hear about this? How many people will they share it with? How much potential loss of business will I suffer as a result of my “creative writing” exploit?” Well, here’s the rest of the story.

I was unaware that the design firm owns the fabrication company who was my customer. Needless to say, that made my comments open to immediate and unbridled inspection and subjective criticism by any and everyone involved. Forwarded to the wrong person, on the wrong day, under the wrong circumstances and WHAM-O! I’m a guy in quicksand looking for a branch to grab and pull myself out.

There is a happy ending to the story. Most sincerely, I called the parties involved and offered an apology for my momentary lapse of sanity and total lack of attention to business etiquette. I also offered additional information about the pre-emptive phone call I had made and my real feelings about the unfaltering superior customer service I believe is incumbent upon anyone in business to try to deliver.

I believe I’ve earned back the respect of my customers, but learned a most valuable lesson, and it is this: Think a while first, know your motive and your desired results, then be careful what you say, to whom you say it, when you say it and how it’s delivered because you never know when, like a vicious guard dog, it’s going to come up behind you and bite you on the boo-tay (or if you’ll have the right medicine to ward off an infection!) Ciao.

Front to back (oh, that’s bow to stern, or fore to aft in nautical, sorry) side to side, and top floor to clear down in the crew’s quarters, 12 floors below the top deck, EVERYWHERE there was decorative glass (just for art), decorative structural glass, decorative functional glass, in fact, I couldn’t imagine this ship without it. Every elevator door, every dining room entry, every bar, the colored glass water spillway at the kids’ splash park, the lighted glass bridges that changed color as you walked upon them, the signs, the lighting fixtures, the unbelievable heavy bent glass railings (the entire ship had glass balustrades), both interior and exterior, and (deep breath) oh my goodness, the list just does not stop.

It was hard to walk ten paces without catching a great piece of glass somewhere in the line of vision. If I wasn’t walking on it or holding on to it, I was admiring the quality and unique character of the installations as well as the huge contingent of staff engaged in perpetually cleaning the glass to keep it looking pristine.

Now granted, this ship was built in Finland, and I’m guessing most of the glass is European, so most of us stateside probably missed out on this one. However, if you look at the ship as a whole for what an opportunity it must be to secure a commission of this magnitude, it must be like striking gold to be contracted to place a huge volume of decorative glass of any kind in a single venue.

More power to those of you who are out there firing the big guns at targets that represent big business, big commitments, and the opportunity to put all the resources that this industry has and continues to develop to work, so you can make a great living while placing great glass product for all to enjoy! Happy cruising!

First, my own innovation: Glass is the new granite. Think about it. Steps, facades, countertops, and lots of places where granite was the upgrade, placed for permanence, a mark of quality both in performance and aesthetics, is now an opportunity for glass. Plus the price for granite used to be way up there, and now it’s glass that’s the upgrade. Hmmmm… for me that should take its place right there with other new “catch” phrases like “40 is the new 30,” though for me that would be “50-something is the new 40-something;” or “let me check on that and get back to you,” which has replaced the old “it’s in the mail.”

Here’s another great Stew-ism: “I am feeling motivationally challenged,” rather than “I am feeling lazy today.” Some days, anyway.

But back to my glass references, starting with the familiar: The old “glass ceiling,” which is being broken on a regular basis; “smooth as glass” (now impregnated with anti-slip agents so it’s not so smooth, for use as stair-steps or flooring); “people in glass houses” who either shouldn’t throw stones or don’t mind having passersby see their every move; and finally, the universal reference to “the glass being half full” rather than empty–presuming you’re an optimist rather than a pessimist.

In all I discovered dozens and dozens of sayings and references, mostly to do with one or another vessel made of glass, imbibing or self-examination (i.e., looking-glass) but there are two that definitely stand out. The first was a quote by Stephen King, who, is one of my favorite reads, though you just have to wonder about the guy. He said, “People think that I must be a strange person. That is not true. I have the heart of a small boy. It is in a glass jar on my desk.” Scary, huh??

But finally, the piece de resistance, with which I’ll close this blog, chosen for its poignancy and relevance to what we do, attributed to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, who said “People are liked stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.” Think about it.

As a kid I was chasing my brother through our old Victorian house in New York when, about to catch up to him (and in the mood for a good fistfight), I was met face-on by a half-door-size piece of Florentine glass that made up the top half of the door he had slammed trying to buy time to evade me. I almost lost an eye, but instead got just a small cut.

In junior high, a friend and I were “playfully” engaging two sisters at their home in a game of tag. It was a dark night and the patio door had just been cleaned; that would be the patio door that the younger sister (my quarry) ran through and then shut behind her. I proceeded to run through it literally, without opening it, never noticing a full glass door in the backlighting. The entire door’s worth of glass cascaded down and shattered on the concrete. I still have a v-shaped scar on my chest as a reminder. I think we called it the mark of “Vorro,” although I’m sure Don Diego Vega was nowhere near.

Now, as far as working with glass, let me establish some relevant context. My studio has traditionally fabricated from 1/8-inch thick art glass sheets. So for a long time the worst hazard was a relatively small piece of thin, comparatively lightweight glass that might break without warning. We now employ a lot of coarsely textured art glass that, when scored and broken, has almost a serrated edge. If you grab and hold tightly it will cut you in a perfectly geometric pattern of tiny cuts. These would be a lot like paper cuts, so while easy to bandage, they still sting a bit. This is everyday glass, but it’s still glass. There’s a reason they temper glass to make sure that should it break, it will break into small, small, small pieces.

When we moved into kiln-casting and larger scale architectural projects the dynamics of risk changed a bit. After all, a 32 x 42 x 1/8-sheet of glass is nothing like a 65 x 96 x ½-inch piece. Everybody tends to be exceedingly careful. We know the safety protocols and protective equipment is employed. A crane and power lift are in place and we stay within the guidelines for use. Of course, this doesn’t mean we still aren’t constantly on the lookout for a potential freak accident (after all, we are working with glass); we’re on the lookout to ensure we have time to react and avoid injury.

I’ll let you in on a secret. The worst cut I’ve ever gotten in the glass business was at the studio one night, cutting stencil for an etched-glass project. I was working late, I was tired and I accidentally dropped an Exacto knifepoint right into the top of my leg. Does it mean that there’s danger in the job? Maybe, but I could be working in a big city somewhere, darting across the street to Starbucks and get hit by a bus, all for the sake of a needed cappuccino. So I’d say the glass business, on my end, is a pretty nice business (and a safe one, too) at which to work.

Now a freelance glass hacker for hire, I worked for every local studio that would use my talent (glazing, not organizing). In 1987 we incorporated and formed a new studio operation specializing in stained and etched glass originals for residential and commercial customers and in 1999 we started UroGlass to expand into 3-dimensional works. Today, we design-build to suit in many different mediums, and manufacture kiln-formed glass for distribution. It’s about how we work “to suit” frequently through adaptation that ties my past with present observations.

How many times have you had an inquiry like this: “I saw something made by XYZ that I really like and wonder if you can make it or something just like it?” Too often, I’d bet the answer is probably yes rather than no. And the reason? Decorative glass companies are in the business of finding solutions for customers, and what’s pleasing at the time might be someone else’s work.

So here’s my dilemma: while imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, imitation that is replication is mostly called plagiarism and that’s a no-no. So if someone comes in with a clipping from an ad that has glass by Studio XYZ and says “Can you make this?” Then what is the right answer? Something like, “That’s a proprietary design by XYZ. Even if we try to make it, it isn’t going to be exactly the same. If you can show me the application and what you’re trying to accomplish then I can show you what we can do that will suit your needs.”

Now, I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t tried to imitate a certain style by request, but in these cases we’re talking about making a pattern that’s arranged to feel the same, but placed intentionally differently. I once described the process of designing in glass (but it applies to design in general) as observing nature, swallowing and digesting everything seen, and then regurgitating components mixed together in another form. Voila! A fresh design, but no original elements.

One should never copy a singular work of an artist or studio under any circumstances (unless you can buy a license to do so). I saw an ad once for a company that featured a glass ensemble touted as being “designed by” that company but it closely resembled a singularly original design that I had myself penned. I called the owner of the company to comment (don’t ask what I said); I sure didn’t feel flattered.

Here’s one last idea. What about using a different process to achieve the same “look?” For instance, how many types of laminations, ink-printed, silk-screened-ceramic applied, single-layered, multi-layered, cut-stencil etched, laser-etched, emulsion-resist etched, chemical etched, hand-cut, machine processed or other variety of material, same size and similar artwork, placed identically could you observe with a similar “look and feel?” The answer is an infinite variety or at least it seems like it. I wonder which came first. Who imitated who? Was everyone trying to get the same look, or are these independent efforts with coincidentally similar results?

Maybe it doesn’t matter at all and is not worth a rant. What does matter, however is that when you have someone come to you and ask you if you can provide them with a product they’ve seen, even if it’s not yours, your best option is to determine what you already have that will suit their purpose. If you can’t come close enough to satisfy, that’s OK–just remember the old sayings about “who you can please/how much of the time” and about being a “jack of all trades while master of none.”

Know your strengths and be prepared for the next time someone gives you the opportunity to flatter your competition by imitating what they’re doing. You’ll always come out a winner by demonstrating how well you can do that simply by doing what you do best already.

Fast-forward 40 years, and I’m predisposed to designing leaded glass windows with plenty of faceted glass jewels and bevels to create the same effect. Of course today there are lots of ways to change light with glass and new ways are being introduced all the time. We’ve grown a giant industry around glass that takes light and adds colors, images, shadows, forms, textures; changes colors as you move, creates electricity, and so much, much more.

On a simple level it’s very magical. So I’m still going to remember Pollyanna, Hayley Mills and my first “rainbow maker” each time I see the sun shine through anything that magically changes plain light into something “just a bit more,” and experience that same fascination again through the eyes of my own children and their discovery as well.