The stained glass world is abuzz and agog with enthusiasm and anticipation for the just-announced Battlefield Glass 3 competition.

This is where people with lots and lots of spare time on their hands engage in a stained-glass-building contest that runs five rounds and seven months, done tournament-style, with a Grand Prize of a $1500.00 gift certificate good for purchase of stained glass supplies (what else?).

I found the website for Battlefield Glass 2 a while back and browsed through it, marvelling at the time people put into this thing and at the incredible level of kitsch displayed in some of the entries. To be fair, the rules of the contest require the use of special "theme items" sent to each participant in each round; if the theme items are tacky that's just very sad because if you don't use them you get disqualified. Still, I had expected some level of ironic self-awareness of the utter arts-and-craftsiness of such an endeavor from, if not the deadly-serious participants themselves, then from the contests' onlookers. My expectations have proven groundless.

It occurs to me that I am not the target demographic. I'd love to know the median age of stained-glass hobbyists, for one thing. There came a moment of recognition for me this week when, upon starting to read The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen, I encountered on the third page the character of an old retired guy who keeps himself busy by playing with stained glass. It's left me wondering if this is how aging begins: you wake up one day and realize you're 26 years old with a sincere and abiding interest in shuffleboard... or polyester highwater pants... or Big Band music... or building stained-glass baubles in your basement. Also: many cats.

Posted by Michelle on October 30, 2002 02:08 PM