Skip to main content

Consulting

Still reeling from the shock that Dee Davies and Peridot were cousins, we were cordially greeted by Professor Rossi (Peppe) of the Uffizi, and Mr. Richard Leyland, art collector, in the dining establishment across the street from the Column of Justice in Florence.

“Good evening gentleman,” said Peridot calmly.

As we took our seats my thoughts flashed back to how my alliance with Hercule Peridot had begun. Serendipity, maybe, or was it kismet, as they say in the gem trade?

Not long after I was hired to teach at the school of Gemology in 1987, Professor Peridot completed his sabbatical there and resumed his duties at the University in Los Angeles.

Peridot and I had kept in contact since our meeting. We had become good friends through our shared hobbies of gemstones and computers. In those early days, much of our correspondence was through a bulletin board service I had built, using hardware which now seems archaic; an 80386 computer with 2,400 baud dial-up modems. As the years went by communications technology improved dramatically. The breakthrough came when Steve Jobs of Apple Computer, on June 29, 2007 launched the first generation iPhone.

Peridot had retired from his duties as a tenured professor of Geologic Sciences at the local University. In his retirement, the demand for his services, as academic lecturer and gem expert exploded. He was barraged with requests from clients to serve as their personal shopper.

Peridot encouraged me to complete a degree in business with a focus on e-Commerce. Throughout the curriculum we debated revolutionary new discoveries; the changing technology, and tips for the efficient use of computers and smartphones. These discussions helped solidify my philosophy, you master what you teach. It was during a severe economic downturn, that I resigned my position as an instructor of Gemology. The workforce had been cut by well over 15 percent, management took a severe cut in pay, yes - times were tough.

My livelihood was now solely based on free-lance writing and customized gem presentations to local businesses. People labeled me a consultant but I’ve always been reluctant to adopt that abhorred expression. This springs from my belief that there is no shared risk with a client as a consultant. The value-add comes from the planting of ideas, awareness, and excitement engendered by the rare and beautiful products of nature we present to appreciative audiences.

My mind snapped back to the present when Professor Rossi completed his formal, yet cordial introductions. Quietly, almost magically Mr. Leyland drew a rather large parcel from his coat pocket that contained yet another mystery.

Peridot spoke first. “Gentlemen, this trip to Florence, among other concerns, was initiated by an e-mail from Dr. Kampf, the curator of the Natural History Museum in Los Angeles. His claim that a 122-carat Peridot from St. John’s Island was “borrowed" from the Museum. Any comments?”

“Yes, Mr. Peridot,” said Leyland in his calm demeanor. As an exhibitor of fine art, annually we host collections for sale. As an added attraction fine gemstones are displayed, on loan mostly, from various museums around the world.” He opened the parcel and behold, a lovely yellowish Green gem appeared.

“May I examine it?” asked Peridot.

“Before you do,” interrupted Dee Davies, “Mr. Leyland I believe you have another parcel with a stone that looks identical to this beauty.”

With that Professor Rossi spoke, “I believe you’re talking about this,” as he drew a parcel from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Dr. Kampf sent his museum piece to my office at the Uffizi. Why? To minimize VAT and import duties, of course. It’s very difficult to import rare and valuable gemstones into this country unless it can be demonstrated that they are not for resale.” 

“Adamas, would you examine the stone Peppe has while I take a look at Mr. Leyland’s parcel?”

“Absolutely" I replied. My immediate suspicion since Davies was involved, this had to be a synthetic spinel triplet. With care I directed my penlight through the girdle plane. But something in my mind kept nagging at me, it is very difficult to create synthetic spinel in Peridot green. Gemologists’ know that this particular assembled stone exhibits a colorless glue plane when a light is directed through the girdle. However, to my surprise this one did not . . .

With a bewildered look I turned to Peridot for guidance.

He spoke quietly to me. “Remember my boy, innocent until proven guilty. Natural, until proven synthetic. Do not let your suspicions get the best of you. Deduction is the synthesis of observation, art, and science. You have a quick eye for color. However you must never simply rely on general impressions - concentrate on the details.”

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Back to School (Without the Triple Lindy)

I hadn’t set foot inside a public library in over thirty years. Last Saturday, when I walked through the sliding doors of the modern County of San Diego branch on Eucalyptus Avenue in Vista, my eyes instinctively scanned the floor for the familiar, comforting sight of varnished oak cabinets and brass pull-handles. Nothing . No card catalog. No little wooden drawers. No rows of index cards typed by someone who presumably had beautiful penmanship and a pension. I walked up to the front desk, looked the librarian dead in the eye, and asked with complete earnestness: "Where’s the card catalog?" She didn’t laugh, though she had every right to. Instead, she offered a warm, dry smile: "We magically had the computer digest it." And just like that, I was enrolled. Not the Rodney Dangerfield kind of back-to-school. No diving board, no loud blazer, no campus party, and thankfully, no need to convince anyone I belonged there. Just an overdue reminder that while I was busy with ...

Beyond Facts-The Deep Dive

✨ In this episode, Beyond Facts: Reimagining School–in the Age of AI . . .   This week's podcast is a bit different; it's another example of how Artificial Intelligence (AI) can offer tools to creatively enhance your analytical presentation of information. We took this week's blog and copied it into Gemini with the question, “If a story is to work, it must, on some level, create an illusion of escape and also achieve a goal simultaneously. Does this apply to my blog post that follows?” What's created is not just an analysis of the writing, but an AI-generated discussion produced “On the Fly” - Enjoy! Did you know that the word "school" comes from the ancient Greek word scholē , which originally meant "leisure"? Not a rigid schedule or droning lectures filled with "facts," but free time for thinking and conversation. To the Greeks, learning happened best when life slowed down—when you had room to reflect, to ask questions, and to wrestle ...

From Mailbox to Microphone

In this episode, catching up with Sierra . What happens when you combine a little imagination, modern digital tools, and the willingness to make a glorious, muddy mess? You get our guest’s latest project. I’m Patrick Ball. Welcome back to On the Fly . Today, we are diving into the world of native plants and guerrilla gardening with twelve-year-old creator Sierra. After watching her impressive, self-produced tutorial on how to make ‘Seed Balls,’ I had to know how she did it. It’s incredibly inspiring to watch Sierra evolve from a young artist wielding crayons and stationery into a savvy digital creator. She’s writing scripts, mastering voiceovers, and editing—all to make a positive, green impact on her local community. “She shoots, she scores, and she’s here to tell us all about it.” Please welcome Sierra to On the Fly ! Let’s get into it. Audio interview . . . For more blog posts showcasing Sierra’s talents, see: The Mailbox Surprise . . . and The Summer Surprise I’m Patrick Ball. Sta...

The AI Debate Was Settled in 1954

In this episode, what a 70-year-old sci-fi mystery teaches us. Welcome back to On the Fly. I’ve been looking for a clear way to explain how we should be handling Artificial Intelligence today. I finally found the answer hidden in a book I just finished. The twist? It was written more than seventy years ago. Isaac Asimov's The Caves of Steel was published in 1954, when a computer filled an entire room, consumed enough electricity to dim the neighborhood, and had roughly the computing power of today's microwave. Yet Asimov set his story nearly 3,000 years in the future—a world where humanity lives in sprawling enclosed cities (New York) and depends on advanced technology for nearly every aspect of daily life. The remarkable part isn't how much of the technology he imagined. It's how accurately he predicted us. In Asimov's future, society struggles with the introduction of highly sophisticated humanoid robots powered by "positronic brains." Naturally, a lou...