View From The Trenches

There is a contest out there to name one’s favorite auto glass tool. I’ve thought about entering it. I have my Equalizer that I’ve owned since its introduction. I look at my collection of color-coded cold knives with their different length blades and wonder if I could do without these any day of my career. My pair of Wood’s suction cups make it possible to set glass.

All of these devices have helped me immensely. I do, however, believe that the best thing that I have carried with me for most of my 26 years of being in the auto glass business is having a companion dog in my truck. I know they don’t come OSHA-approved, but I don’t care.

I have had three dogs that have ridden shotgun in my truck during my tenure. I highly recommend the practice.

None of them were ever certified in installation practices. They all have been vaccinated, however, and they seemed to be well versed in psychology.

This all started by fate in 1985. I was driving along a back road and spotted some tall weeds quivering unnaturally. I saw something alive that was black but until I stopped could not tell it was an injured dog. I can’t tell you why I hauled him into the bed of my truck and took him to my vet, but I did. Somebody had beaten this Labrador badly and either the dog had run away or was abandoned.

I will profess a fondness for pooches. My family had eight dogs already, at the time, most of them Shitzous that were being shown at dog shows. When the vet released this Black Lab to me a few days later, this poor dog became attached to me instantly—probably due to the fact that I fed him and protected him from the constant annoyance by the unrelenting pack mentality of the smaller dogs who would just nip at his lower accessible parts. If you ever heard the term, “Wither thou goes,” well, he would. I named him “Zeus” and hence became part of my motley crew.

Due to the behavior of the smaller dogs, I decided to take Zeus to work with me. I never before mixed work with dogs.

Now, I have commuted to the “Big City” ever since I have been in business. At that time, I lived 60 miles one-way. Zeus loved every minute of driving. If I left the cab, he’d move over to the wheel. During summer, his big square head was parked in front of an A/C vent or out the window. When he laid down, my right leg usually became his pillow. The only downside of Lab ownership is its propensity of shedding. The amount of coat that found its way into the nooks and crannies of my install trucks was prodigious.

Every one of my customers who stepped into my shop was greeted by him as he performed his version of what a TSA employee is supposed to do. During mobiles, he learned to bring me certain tools on command. His name was known far more than mine was within the dealership community. I had techs and service personnel bringing treats for him. He lived five years longer and I could fill this space full with anecdotes of the very best dog I ever owned.

His demise made a low time in my life even darker—I had a divorce, was staying with friends and soon closed my shop. I stayed without a dog for about two years. I had a friend call me about a black Lab returned to a breeder and memories made me bring him home. Bogey had huge shoes to fill.

Bogey would never exactly be known as the smartest dog in the pack, but he was the most lovable. His entire universe centered about eating and he could identify any person or client that had ever fed him with treats by his or her shoes. He would lie down and his tail would start to wag if he saw a pair of shoes underneath parked cars approaching my truck that he recognized. Whereas Zeus had been my dog, Bogey belonged to the world (as long as you had food).

Bogey is still alive. He has grown stone-deaf and his vision at age 14 is dimming. This dog had the uncanny ability to find the worst spot possible to lie down especially when it came to cars. When I bought my latest work truck, I made the decision to keep him home due to the much smaller size of the cab and (you guessed it) its ability to fill faster with dog hair. Bogey’s reduced athleticism had something to do with it as well. The last thing I wanted to stress was those aging hips and knees.

I have come full-circle with my third. Last year I “acquired” another mascot of sorts. A one-year-old male shitzou was found while playing golf. His name? Mr. Peabody of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame. He’s small (12 pounds) so he fits into my single cab quite well and loves riding in the truck as well. He is a seat ornament since he likes to climb to the tallest part of his universe and he has one great asset: he doesn’t shed. He is a chic magnet around my dealerships and he knows it. If given the chance (and rarely ever is there one), he loves to explore the vehicle I’m working on. I hope he’ll be around awhile.

All I can say is this: There are few “easy” days in our trade. The work is tough, dirty and is fraught with frustration on almost every level. Your dog just doesn’t care if the glass is damaged, incorrectly ordered or even fits. The TPAs and the Belron merger mean absolutely nothing to them. All that matters is that they get some attention and, of course, some food.

As I am pecking this out on my keyboard, I have company. Bogey is laying down alongside the computer desk. Peabody keeps running back into my office checking to see if I am still where he left me. Despite being in the auto glass business, I still feel rich. However, if it were up to these aforementioned “best” friends of mine, they would have wanted me to go into the sausage business instead.

This has been a very tough year for me in the auto glass business. In fact, I think it has been the toughest one out of my entire 26 years as an owner/operator.

The reasons are varied. Price cutting and competition are probably the worst I’ve ever seen. Insurance work is less profitable and makes one expend far more resources and energy than it is worth sometimes. The work is far harder and longer due to newer vehicles’ engineering and design. Our liability and responsibility have increased as our returns have declined.

Am I thinking of quitting? Absolutely not! To paraphrase a famous quote, “They will have to pry my dead stiff fingers from my cold knife.”

Why do I stay? Why are you still around as well?

First of all, we all must like a challenge. Whether you are a one-man show or are the CEO of a chain, we certainly are aware that usually every day contains a test of our skills (well, some skills—you CEOs play probably more week day golf than I do). I simply like to win and feel that my best efforts will put me in position to do so.

We must handle disappointment well. This business has never been easy to compete in. It has in my time always suffered from “easy entry-easy exit” syndrome. Price has been sold over quality in many markets making it the most commonly used device to attain customers. If we keep up this approach, I’m sure somebody will soon start paying the customer to install their windshields. After dealing with NAGS, net-priced parts and TPAs, it sure seems at times I’m already doing that.

Our greatest strength may be our biggest weakness … our independence. We really need to somehow change that “mano e mano” mentality and somehow connect with each other.

I am no shining example of brotherhood. You have to earn my respect as an installer or as a corporate entity and, at least for me, that is hard to do. My greatest competition is the cut-rate shops that pander to the car dealership market. What chaps my hide the most is if I am going to lose an account, at least make it an equal fight. These guys are using glass brands found only in a United Nations Third World trade brochure, rolls of T-105 and installers that appear to be a step ahead of Homeland Security and can’t spell AGRSS, much less follow its practices. I find it very hard to extend the hand of friendship to that sector, or to the production shops that provide me an healthy income stream with repairs or re-do’s brought to my service department accounts.

In the final lose/lose scenario, if I like you and respect you, why should I trust you? I haven’t found a shop owner yet that would not like to try to take over an account of mine.

This “Balkanization” (a term used to denote several small separate countries that refuse to unite) is exactly our weakness. Unite we must in some ways. The Insurance Industry has made hay from our inability to maintain pricing levels. The way we buy glass today and the quality of what we purchase as well has changed (and not for the better). Also it would sure help if our national standards and perceptions of quality for installations became commonplace. Even today with CASPA or AGRSS, the most commonly asked plaintive question I hear asked by consumers is “Will it leak?”

I never ask my plumber that question. (What I do ask him is: “How come so much?”)

There are great challenges ahead for the AGR industry. Change is inevitable and we are amidst perhaps the greatest transformation we as members have ever endured. Somehow we should do it together and have a hand in its change or face being either swept along with or even away by this rising force ahead.

My name is Neil Duffy. I’ve been in the auto glass installation business for 26 years. Never had one iota of a thought at any time prior to 1980 that I would make this an occupation—much less a life’s work. Perhaps I’ll ask to be cremated just so they won’t etch the words “glazier” on a slab of granite marking my final mobile.

I fell into this trade. I started out financing a windshield repair franchise that a fellow auto dealership sales manager saw potential in. He didn’t exactly see paying me back in a timely manner so I ended up as a working owner. It took less than a year to solidify a good reputation. I first subbed out un-repairable windshields to another shop and after it became apparent that service wasn’t in that company’s business model, I started doing glass myself and then hired experienced installers as the business grew.

So much has changed since that first accidental entry. Gasket installs have gone the way of black-and-white TVs. Metal reveal moldings that are held fast by riveted clips have morphed to frameless glass installs. Kent or PTI sealants may now be museum items, along with a hook tool. (I still use mine for other processes.) With urethanes came certification and a need to stay in the loop with changes in applications and technology.

The one constant thing that hasn’t changed is an attitude that I attribute to my folks, especially my mother; a credo that has echoed through millions of households but I find fading with time; a tenet that I believe within our industry is being sacrificed due to intense competition and profiteering.

What my mom used to say to two brothers and me was: “If you can’t do something right, don’t do it at all!”

To me, that means doing the best job possible. No shortcuts, no inferior faux parts and most of all never making the vehicle unsafe by one’s installation practices.
I may be preaching to the choir as I state this premise. Those who read this publication, I assume, have pride in their work or business. As diverse as our industry is, I feel there has been a constant decline overall with service—something that we profess to be experts in.

How would you feel if an orthopedic surgeon bragged he could do your hip replacement in less than an hour? Or seven in a day? What if instead of offering a titanium hip joint, he suggests a look-alike pot metal one for “half the price?” He may not get to be my first choice, nor would I want to be his last patient of his surgical day.

“You get what you pay for” is another phrase I first heard uttered often by my mom. I truly believe that maxim should be stenciled to the foreheads of most Americans, especially as they trudge out of their anointed auto glass replacement shops. Nowhere is that more true than in our industry.

Business “experts” feel that competition is a healthy state for any industry. I’m not so sure that the American public has benefited from our acquisitions, price wars and vast amounts of imported replacement parts. What they spend on auto glass has been kind on American wallets, but, many times, what they have received for that discount is an increasing inferior glass and mouldings with an installation usually metered out in time units.

Material and labor costs are the two greatest expenses any owner faces. ”Generic” is code for cheap. Setting up performance bonuses encourages shortcuts. Companies benefit and the consumer is usually the loser.

Basically I feel my clients deserve my best effort and product. My reputation is on the line with every install and that really matters to me because in the end, that is all I have … my good name. I would rather quit this business and rake manure than to lower my standards. Am I perfect? No! Do I make mistakes? Yes, but I do my very best not to repeat them.

I have not come across another industry that tries to take itself so seriously but does everything possible to devalue its product and competition. The first step to consider is that every CEO, owner, foreman and technician take what would be the equivalent of an auto glass Hippocratic oath and swear to “do no harm” to their customers’ cars and then live by that promise. I wish it could be that easy.

This leads me to the last maxim that my mom used a lot: if you’re not part of the solution, you are part of the problem. the solution.

The time is long past for our industry to live up to its responsibilities.