My first trip to the Corning, NY glass plant was a well-planned one; my parents drove us there, but instead of stopping at a restaurant for lunch, my mother packed a picnic basket full of sandwiches and condiments. Father stopped at a well-trimmed grove along the way to upstate New York, which had a single table and a stream next to it.

Almost as if the place was waiting for us, but you never could call ahead for a reservation here! Postcard picturesque.

Having friends with us also, the food was good, the sodas were cold (bottles packed in an ice cooler), and my brother and I fought over the last of the Oreos. Life was as good as sun beaming through stained glass.

Back into the station wagon, as the best part of the trip was to come! Onto the Corning Museum of Glass!

You can see that glass and me go way back. So do you, that is, if you drank milk as a youngster from a bottle. To this day, I don’t care if it’s water or lemonade or fruit punch, liquids taste better when poured or drank out of glass than plastic.

I don’t drink alcohol, but if that’s not the case of bottles being better, then why do all the liquors that come out of the state store come in glass bottles, not plastic containers? Bars proudly line up glass bottles full of wine and the like. Plastic doesn’t cut it. Even moonshiners bootlegged their prize stuff in clear mason jars, not cans or plastic jugs.

Corning Glass Works (north of here and not far away) made CorningWare and glass bakeware, etc., till 1989 when it became Corning Incorporated. Corning Glass was first formed in 1851 and has been located in Corning, NY since 1868. Not only is its headquarters there, but also a research and development lab.

In 1962, Corning developed Chemcor, an advanced component used in automobile windshields designed to be thinner and lighter than existing ones. This type reduced the danger of injury by shattering into small granules when smashed. They also have worked heavily with fiber optics.

Anyway, our junket that day was to visit the Corning Museum of Glass. Opened in 1951, it has a collaboration of more than 45,000 glass objects, some being over 3,500 years old! And you thought your Aunt Mildred was doing well with her cherished china cabinet!

One display worth seeing was the “tower sculpture,” which was built using 600 glass bowls. It stretches to the ceiling.

However, it was the glassblowing skills that I remember from that day trip. The craftsmen were just that, wowing you with the molten glass (resembling taffy) that they shaped and rolled. If memory serves, you got to take a small souvenir home with you; I think mine was a small glass horse with orange eyes and brown streaks on the body. Lost, but not forgotten!

Currently, live glassmaking is a premier attraction at the Corning Museum, and the shows last 20 to 40 minutes. It really is a sight to behold and proves interactive museums will flourish over stagnant ones.

By taking me to different types of museums (I’ve been to everything from art museums in NYC to the NASCAR Museum in Darlington) my parents instilled an appetite for curiosity. In this case, of all things, glass.

It took time to manifest itself in me, as I never gave it much thought before. It proves that what a parent/guardian shows a youngster early on can prove to make a difference. And be fun!

For example, at many flea markets, I go to there is often “depression glass” on display for sale. After research (what else?) I found out that depression glass is actually uranium glass. It’s a clear or colored translucent machine made glassware that was distributed free or at low cost in the U.S. and Canada during the Great Depression of the early 1930s. I like the colors of them, such as the pale yellows and greens. I even have a vintage Goodyear ashtray made of that type of glass. History in your hands.

As years went on, I learned that to buy your mother (or father) anything made by Steuben Glass was a thing to behold. Handcrafted and beautiful, it always made my mom smile to put it somewhere that could be seen.

Broken glass has always posed a problem. Don’t step on it. And things like antique plates and ornaments could never be replaced. But the sound of smashing glass? Nothing else like it.
You’ve heard the phrase, “as fragile as Waterford crystal,” it’s true.

Ornate and expensive, don’t let the proverbial bull or wild children anywhere near it! Consult your homeowner’s insurance to see what is actually covered. Or not.

Glass marbles are far out. Kids, that means cool. People collect them (some called cats eyes) and put them in clear glass vases on window shelves for the sun to work its wonder and show all the vibrant rainbow colors.

For a time, my parents collected glass paperweights. Each Christmas I would try to find them a unique one. Whales, airplanes, ones with corporate logos. Many still remain on display in the dining room for everyone to see. That includes the pet cat, who tests his strength by seeing if he can knock them to the floor. THUD!

Old glass soda bottles also capture my attention, as many independent or locally owned places bottled their own. Sizes and shapes and colors of the bottles varied from soda pop to soda pop. Green and blue and clear glass conductors off telephone poles are also a neat collectible. Some still exist on old poles if you know where to look.

You appreciate glass without even thinking about it. Who drinks coffee out of a plastic mug? Or serves dinner each night on paper plates? Cinderella is still looking for her glass slipper. Actually, it’s a high heel, and it goes on her left foot. In this case, finders keepers, and much rarer than a Tom Brady game jersey.

After digesting all this, I suggest to any family looking for something different to visit the Corning Glass Museum. Kids 17 and under are admitted free. Open 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. daily and closed only four days per year. Guaranteed to prod young minds.

A suggestion. Pack a picnic lunch as we did so many years ago to enjoy on the way there. Find a nice and shady spot to eat. Kids, behave — and once you get there, don’t be a “pain in the glass.”

Oh, and save me an Oreo, will ya?