I asked for comments regarding opinions on the Tri-Metal Touring Pocket Case. (Yes - the name in intentionally pretentious -

I also asked for comments, regarding this question: "Well - what would you like to see me make, based upon what you've watched me do for the last 18 years). We will agree that first and foremost - everybody would like to see their biggest projects all completed and wiped from the ledger. First, let's please get me thru settlement of the house that's ruined the entire plan of moving and simplifying.

Sal gave it some serious thought, and came up with good comments and observations. The one that stuck out most, was that the entire matter is market driven. Interesting pcs. may be cost prohibitive. Bingo.

When the millstone of the Maryland house lingered on, and on - it became quite obvious that I needed to ditch the remainder of moving, ditch the remainder of preparing the Md. property, ditch the idea of completing BPS - and just get to work with what was set up. Make some "stuff", and sell it.

The whole matter of timing on the "ditching" was a subjective matter. Because, from day one ... there were those solidly into the "ditch it" category - no matter the entire rest of the plan hinged upon the equity in the property. Part of said play being, have something to live off of while clearing the ledger accounts up. I've also had many conversations about the method of moving. Why didn't we just have everything trucked down here. Thumbnail: Could not get a tractor trailer thru the alley network to BPN. Could not palletize and store BPN "within" BPN. Could not load what we could not palletize without the loading dock and forklift we did not have, onto the trucks that could not get to BPN. Could not pay far more then BPN was worth to move it.

So; now we are back to work. What to make and sell? To whom do we sell it? I strongly suspect that most readers have hardly a clue of my history. Previous Knifemaker's Guild Member, American Bladesmith's Society Certified Master Bladesmith - I worked from 1974 thru 1991 as a full time Custom Knifemaker. I sold my work worldwide. There were many years, during the late 80's thru the 90's - that I rarely sold anything in the United States. My work went into collections, around the globe. I won dozens of awards. Many first of Show and Best of Show Awards. I racked up about 1,300 serial numbered handmade custom knives. And then, a series of events made me decide to do something else.

If you were to get into the hobby of collecting left handed coffee mugs, with hand painted decorations created by 98 year old right handed mug makers ...... you would find that the entire hobby was riddled with politics. In short - "everything" is riddled with politics. I got tired of it. I bought a Seafood Restaurant. Steamed Crabs, Steamed Shrimp, Cream of Crab Bisque ... none better. We even had a Saturday evening excursion on a Steam Locomotive which stopped right out front - and picked up Customers at our Whistlestop. Food and Dance on the Train, headed up into Cumberland, Maryland. And .... we hated it. Employees stole you blind. We had either 20 or 30 employees ... I've blocked it from my mind. They had schemes I had to decipher each week. They stole frozen food out the back door. Scheduling would make a Preacher Cuss. There was ALWAYS something broken. ALWAYS some unsolvable problem. EVERYBODY in the place needed professional therapy. We did the TV commercials. We did the Beach Nite giveaways. The Tee Shirts. The Live Music. The Dances. We had no trouble at all with the Bikers. It was pretty much everybody else that drove us nuts. It was 25/8 - just never ended. And then, one day ... we signed the papers - and we were out! Sold. Thank God. Who's STUPID idea had that been?

So, that was 91-93. And I decided I'd had it with the Restaurant Business. And so: we opened a Gallery. We chose a two story log Gallery in the heart of a City Restoration Center Project. This was several blocks of 19th, 20th, and I think even a touch of 18th century row homes, factory buildings, and warehouses. The whole mess had been slated to be torn down until a successful developer who owned a huge antique Import business decided it might have merit. This was back around the very early 80's. The rebuilt, restored, renovated. They put in eateries. They hired a gifted contractor - a sort of "Log Whisperer", who found he could restore things that even THEY thought to be beyond restoration. And, the project took off like a Saturn V. And so, round about 1993 ... we leased a Gallery, smack in the center of it. It was a two story building, and we began by filling the first floor. With what? Well, Gary build custom furniture, custom knives, jewelry, hand painted folk art, wind driven toys, carved/stained glass work, ornate ironwork, paintings, curiosities of all sorts. Iron sleds, Hutches, blanket racks, tables, chairs, plant hooks by the dozen, Scarecrows for Hallowean, and Santas for Christmas. The bottom floor was stuffed to the gills. And, the people came .....

And the people came ...... and they said ............................................................................................ "What's Upstairs?"

And we explained .... we are growing into the second floor. Right now there is nothing up there. We plan to fill it by next Fall. And the people said ..............

And the People said ............................................................................................................................."Can we See?"

And we said ... "See What?" And they said ... "Upstairs?" And we explained, once again; there is nothing up there. We plan to fill it by next Fall. And so; they went away annoyed because we didn't wish for them to go upstairs.

And so; Kelly sat at the Gallery and answered the burning question .... "What's upstairs?" for about six months. She's still frightened by the question today. I made a clear sign, which we sat on the steps - explaining that the upstairs was closed. That we were ....... And, the people would step over the sign, on their way upstairs, as soon as we'd be busy at the other end of the store. We stretched ribbon across the steps, hung a sign from it .... and they crawled under the ribbon. No - not the SAME persons ... but nearly EVERYONE.

At Christmas, we put up a nice Christmas tree in the corner of the Gallery. We went to a local dollar store, and purchased a wheelbarrow load of those handmade wooden toy ornaments made by Chinese Children for a buck a pop. Rocking horses, Drums, Sleighs, Reindeer, Horns, Rooty Toot Toots and Rummy Tum Tums. And, we hung the tree full. Added lights and tinsel. We had coffee and cookies. It was Christmas!!! And the people came ...........

And the People came ...... and they said .................................................................................... "How much are the Tree Ornaments?"

And we said .... "Oh .... I can understand why you ask .... they are cute, aren't they? They are just to decorate the tree for the Gallery. They aren't for sale." They didn't care to hear that. But ... before leaving ... they'd ask .... "What's Upstairs?"

We had also bought some burlap sack "gift bags" stamped with what appeared to be some hand cut "Potato Stamp" or something. You might be too young. As a child in 3rd grade, we'd have a supervised session where we'd cut a potato in half, then cut a couple of wedges from it's one edge. Dip the flat side in tempera paint - press it onto a pc. of construction paper .... and ... .... Hey Presto - a Tulip!!! Well, these bags had pressings of demented looking teddy bears, horns, reindeer, etc. We bought them for a buck a bag. Filled them with crushed newspapers - put them under the tree. And the people came .......

You guessed it ..........

Kelly began to ask me .... "How much longer is Christmas???????"

One day, I was in the gallery. A customer was just asking Kelly .... "How much are the Tree ornaments????" Kelly, with a twisted smile, was about to begin to explain, when I popped around from behind her - and said with a smile - $5 a piece.

Over next ten days, we cleaned off the tree or every ornament, they scarfed up every bag ... we even went back to the dollar store and bought forty more of the bags. Sold them all IIRC. Was the best seller of the entire Gallery experience.

We also learned another lesson from the gallery. I'd stay up til 3am, making some unique interesting handmade artifact. By late morning, it would be in our Gallery, for sale. A prospective customer would be seen looking it over. I'd stagger by and place myself where ... if I indeed fell flat ... I would not injure the customer. We'd discuss the pc. They'd be all smiles. Fascinated by the artistic creativity. And then, they'd ask ... "Do you have any more?" I'd smile and say - (proud as punch) - no M'am ... that is a unique pc. of handcrafted art!" The smile would be snatched off the face. They'd turn to leave. I'd fall into the rack of plant hooks, while the lady stalked past Kelly .... stopping just long enough to toss a side glance and ask ... "What's Upstairs?" .........

Coffee ... more later ....

Gary

Uhmm...check. Steer clear of the crab bisque, and NEVER ask what's upstairs. Never heard of the restaurant era before, you must have been suppressing that memory until now.

Did I ever tell you about the fun times I used to have at airshows back when I was flying for the Army? We'd regularly get requests to supply a "static display" for airshows, air-races, etc., where you'd basically fly the helicopter there and then just park it on the ramp for people to look at. You were expected to have a crew member or two standing by to answer questions from the public (and to keep them from damaging anything) so it usually involved a lot of standing around answering the same few questions over and over and over until it was time to go home. At the time I was flying AH-1 Cobras, the Armys main attack helicopter, so we were always ready to answer questions about the rocket launchers and the 20mm cannon and the TOW missile launchers and such.

The particular model I was flying also had a relatively primitive helmet-mounted sighting system for aiming the cannon, which attached to the top of your flight helmet via a sort of pantograph arm. Unfortunately, the mount had several sharp corners on top that were prone to scratching the heck out of the plastic cockpit windows, which were very time consuming and expensive to replace. Somewhere back in the early days of the system some genius figured out a make-do system to prevent it from tearing things up; we'd cut a hole in a tennis ball and stick it over the mount when we weren't using the sighting system. You'd still hit the cockpit windows with the mount, but the smooth tennis ball would keep it from gouging up the windows. Of course, that regular old bright-yellow tennis ball stuck out like a sore thumb in the drab military cockpit, but it was always removed when we were flying missions since we'd have the sight system attached.

Guess what was the number one question that got asked at air shows?

How fast does it fly? Nope.
How much much horsepower does the engine make? Nope.
How many missiles can you shoot? Not a chance.

The only question that EVERONE asked was always "what's the tennis ball for?".
After a few repeats of that I think we eventually made up a written sign, but you'd think it was the most interesting thing on the aircraft, go figure.

Hi Sean,
I can see that.
And all the middle shed men would say ... "You know / you shouldn't play tennis, while flying that thing!"
It's a late middle aged thing ... Don't ask me how I know ....

Gary

The reason for the story is to discuss the rationale involved in what you build, and to whom you attempt to sell it.

When I was saturated in the custom knife world, I sold to quite wealthy clients. Talking serious - billionaire stuff. There are unique characteristics to such. This was before the net. This was the FAX age. But - clients did not want to use FAX. They seemed to feel it "Required" a response from them. They felt they'd respond when they darned well pleased.

At the time, I'd make up "Groupings" of knives. Perhaps 5-7 individual knives. And then I'd photograph them, and send out color 8 by 10 printed photos along with descriptions of the knives. What could go wrong? HAH!!!! How about if you sent packets to two guys .... they'd BOTH want ALL of the knives. And thus ... one of the other, or both - would end up mad. How about - if you sent out two packets .... you'd get a call that one guy wanted all the knives. And you'd sell them. And you'd be thrilled. And then, 3-5 weeks later ... the OTHER guy would call and expect all 7 or the knives to STILL be laying on the shelf waiting for his leisurely response. The concept of "Needing to eat" did not apply.

Those were the days of phone recorders. I'd come home, and would have been waiting for a decision from a client in Australia. There would finally be a message!!! Yay. The person would describe just who he was, that I'd sent him a packet, that the packet included particular knives - which they'd describe. They'd crawl toward a decision .... CLICK!!! Timed Out. Then they wouldn't know that I hadn't gotten the decision. I wouldn't know what they wanted. I wouldn't know how to proceed with anyone else.

Great days. Everybody mad at me all the time. They loved the work - but it was always a mess, and they were always mad.

Well, in the last days of the Restaurant Era, I got a call from the publisher of US Airgun Magazine. They were thinking about starting a Custom Knife Magazine. We ended up talking about airguns. I said, sure .... I make some to play with in the shop. YOU WHAT????!!!!!!! And, within a couple of months, I was at the Winston Salem Airgun Show with a Girandoni Breech 45 caliber - all acid etched, tricked out.

In order to pursue the airgun interest ... I allowed the knife world to wane. It had been solid stress for the last ten years. Then, the Restaurant and Gallery hadn't altered that. I began to really enjoy the airguns. I began to really move fast too. Upping the available power, the range, accuracy. Unique mechanisms everywhere. Loved it. Of course, 2000 hit with numb fingers, painful arms, horrible aches, headaches, and that all began.

Building the website, and then the forum; was a real dream. I really wanted to escape the politics. Escape the "he said, she said". Build a base of friends and associates. But - you never escape that. When we moved - we never dreamed our careful plan would be so badly harmed by the circumstances that took us through all the wrong contacts, wrong agents, wrong methods. When it came time to augment the income ... I never considered diving back into 16 year old dried up contacts. Clearly, I knew I would be trying to sell "Expedition Cases" to folks who were not strictly "Expedition Case Collectors" ... ... but I figured ... "Hey - these people know me. These are my friends. They know quality ... and .... the prices I'll be asking will be such a small percentage off the prices of the products I've been marketing .... can't miss.

When I came to product ... think of this: OK - I've been working for over 40 years to perfect the level of skills I have mastered. What do you think I'm going to expect to find a demand for? Choices: Let's see .... NOT engrave. NOT carve. NOT detail. NOT build to my highest skill level. OK ... The plain, barren, simplistic, unadorned, utilitarian, Agricultural versions of ordinary objects; did not immediately leap to mind. Just the same as a skilled Surgeon probably would not wish to spend his days removing warts.

And so; I have tried .... heck ... I've forced the absolute highest degree of detail I could afford to offer, for the most economical cost I could afford to subsidize. I've appreciated each sale. I've tried to determine the sweet spot, whereby I could move work and people would not break their budget. I know a few have strained a few threads, but not popped a button. Thing is - there's still no reason which I can determine for the target values desired. There HAS to be a reason to create custom work. It's pointless, even if I can find a client for it; to make a boring, utilitarian artifact with no soul ... and sell it for a minimum wage. It's just not worth doing. And so; I strive to make "artifacts" which, as soon as you open the box; become "Heirlooms" for your family. Nobody is going to toss this stuff out. And, you can't tell me that, ten years from now; you aren't going to think it was worth $500-600 for you to now own your Grandfather's pocketknife. Or several hundred dollars to own your Dad's pocket case. Which you will give to your Son.

In closing this session ... the things I've been choosing to make ... have been trying to establish a sale that helps me bridge this time period. Darned right. I sold some amazingly expensive knives from 1980 - the 90's. And, with it, I raised a family. Not many people have a drawer full of uncashed paychecks from yesteryear. Today, I'm bridging the gap in a period of time that is fast closing. Our settlement is Dec. 30th. If you have bought something, I thank you. And, please know that you got in on something unusual. I will always make something here and there for therapy. But - check back over the last 15 years or so - and see how many extra $300-$1,000 items I've laid on the bench, for sale.

Just some thoughts. BTW ... you are all still letting perhaps the best Classic Barlow I've ever made, lie there for well, well below value. I won't let it lay there begging much longer. It will just go in the drawer - and I'll make something else to sell. I never mark down a pc. of my work. I price it fair to begin with. You can look - you won't find one. Not being cocky. Just saving time if anybody is waiting for the sale.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate you taking your valuable time. Hope you enjoy a break from the world.

Best,
Gary