Sometimes It’s a Matter of Trust

My partner Joe and I have been going back and forth a bit on our main site CFT411 about the topic of Lazy Susans for blind corners in kitchens, and I decided I would take it a bit further on my own blog site.

Those interested should simply click back to the original series of articles I wrote on this subject, but to compress it here, let me just say that Lazy Susans have come to be THE solution to blind corner woes. Those who pay enough money for them are almost always pleased with the results. So much so, in fact, that in doing some of the preliminary planning for the kitchen I hope to make for the wife and me later this year, Lazy Susans was my first choice. In checking out websites used by professional cabinetmakers, though, I was astonished to learn that a fair number of them do everything they can to talk their customers out of them, on the grounds that they simply do not add to the storage space in a kitchen.

I did my own homework on this and eventually came to agree with them, and I speak as one who has a wife who was just salivating at the thought of a Lazy Susan in that damned corner! But once I saw the math, I showed it to my wife, and she immediately made plans for something more practical with that money.

Later, of course, I wrote the blogs that are now the subject of debate between my partner and me. Joe’s contention is that, even though he knows Lazy Susans to not be worth the money (the kitchen he recently made for himself uses drawer banks in the blind corners), he has to give the customer what he wants.

I respectfully disagree. I know, I know, that’s polite debater’s language for something a bit more pungent, but in my case I know this man personally and have the highest regard for his integrity. So when I disagree, I do so respectfully.

I have a general contractor who has, over the years, become a close personal friend because of the work he has done on my house from time to time. I pay him for his time, so the technical relationship is employer—employee, but his standards are the highest, and whenever I ask him for his advice, he tells me what he honestly thinks. Let’s face it, if I had his skills, I wouldn’t need to pay him—and I wouldn’t. But there’s quite a difference between carpentry work and cabinetmaking, so I’m always glad to have his experience when I begin a major remodeling project.

I do know that the number one thing people want for a project for their homes is someone they can trust. They want someone who will charge them a fair price and who will do all the work as promised. Once a joint is glued up, not even another cabinetmaker can tell if it has been strengthened with biscuits, dowels, mortise-and-tenon, or not strengthened at all—just a butt joint! So having someone who can be trusted to do the work is paramount.

I also believe people want someone they can trust to tell them the truth about Lazy Susans or any other project they may have in mind for the same reason I value my contractor’s opinion so highly. He’s the one who knows. Why would I not take his advice?

Just recently I broke a screen door and broke the frame round a sliding window. I called the window people and the screen door people, both of whom offered to simply repair the unit. I took the window guy’s offer (saved me over $600!) and explained to the screen door guy that I wanted a heavier duty door, because of the traffic it had been getting. I’m pleased as punch with both items, but if, for the sake of the argument, the screen door guy had said the door I had in mind was too heavy for the track and would require hundreds of dollars more—and still not do the job as well as simply repairing the lighter weight door I had, I would have taken his advice. I say that, because before I let anyone work on my home, I do my damnedest to get a feel for his integrity. If he’s a square shooter, then he gets the bid—and I follow his advice.

I do not believe the customer is always right. And when he’s wrong, I believe we should let him know the error of his ways. For something like a Lazy Susan, the reasons for not installing one are so compelling that all we really have to do is give people the benefit of our knowledge. Most of the time, you end up with a grateful person who uses that money for something a bit more useful.

There will always be, of course, a handful of clients who will loudly assert that they are, by God, right, and that my job is to shut up and do what I was told. But I can happily get along without them in my life.

Joseph