Some things you do not need to know...

...about Waltham.

The city is known as the "Watch City", but you know that. Some 40 million Waltham Watches were built and the world is more "on-time" for it. Mike Case, late of the History Department of Boston College, however, likes to point out the lovely paradox of the city that corraled time yet overslept on the big day.

You see, readers, during that whole, "the British are coming, the British are coming" thing going down in April of 1775, while communities big and small had their sons up at the crack of dawn to shoot it out at Lexington (just north of Waltham) and Concord (one town northwest), the good settlers in Waltham overslept. Not a single Walthamer was awake to put the flash in the pan and knock down a Brit. So much for clock work action.

To their defense, I must point out that there was no Waltham Clock manufactory in 1775 and, at any rate, the city today has a great restaurant row...reservations accepted for 7:00 PM SHARP!

The Devil Made Him Do It

And now for a little local color.

Hotter than... it is today...My younger one want to go to to the public pool in my little corner of the world. Not a bad idea.

The Underwood Pool in Belmont Massachusetts has the distinction of being the first public pool in the United States -- assuming you exclude as pools the cesspools of Upton Sinclair and the riverways of Mark Twain.

Plopped down on land donated by William Underwood, it is an icon worthy of fame to any man, yet our Mr. Underwood, like so many greats, holds claim to another title of fame.

Yes, the Devil was the source of Mr. Underwood's wealth. We're not talking Mephisto here; we're talking Underwood Deviled Ham.

Not to be the only multi-man from Belmont, we may offer you the diversity of Robert Welch Jr.

Scurry from the pool's location on Concord Avenue up yonder about a one minute walk towards the center and stop at 395 Concord (next door to the post office). Today the building is the Armenian Studies Center, yet until 1958, it was the headquarters of one of Mr. Welch's babies -- the John Birch Society. If that nugget leaves a bitter taste in your mouth the ponder another of Mr. Welch's inventions: it is sweet, it is refreshing, it is "delicious" as Seinfeld's friend Kramer says.

Yes readers, we are talkng about nothing less than the Junior Mint.

Robot House

I like the way kids give directions. Nothing bland like, "First right after the Sonoco station." or even, out of the dashboard, "turn... at... next... left... 100...yards..." and so on. No sir, not for kids.

My own kid informed me that the way to her friend's house was the right after the robot house.

How, I wondered, would I know what the robot house was, but wouldn't you know it?...there is was. What a house, what character! What directions! And it does look like a robot!

The Financial Arrangements

Everything is flying along to a closing. The meeting of the minds between buyer and seller is done and now the two parties begin the process of separating as day by day, owner lets go and buyer pulls it all together to take over.

"How's the financing coming?," I ask.

"Fine. Easy."

No doubt the buyer has launched himself into finance world with all the force of a V2 rocket. "I went with Cambridge Savings Bank."

My interest is piqued as to how the choice was made.

"Well," he says, "whenever I go there to make a deposit, the pens work and they are never out of deposit envelopes. And I LIKE that."

So the biggest financial decision of a person's life is made on the basis of the supply of ink and paper?

"Absolutely."

I ponder this for a moment and think, wait, maybe there is something to this. A place that pays attention to detail -- you know -- a "take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves" sort of thing. Move over Wall Street, a new financial analyst is moving onto Main Street in Watertown.

As allways, dear readers, you should check with your financial analyst before making any decision. I will be checking in with mine -- on Main Street.

Open House Saturday 6/16 1:00 to 3:00 PM

I will be doing an Open House in Arlington. It is a house with character and History. You may visit this house at OldHouses.com. The link will open in a new window.

Sub-Marine Warfare

Some kids, oh say about 12-13, are sitting on the porch talking about the new baby in the neighborhood. They asked me if I had seen it and what I thought it looked like.

"Well," I say, "to me all newborns look like Winston Churchill." I am met with blank stares. Now think of it,-- newbies are mostly bald, and round and wrinkled -- you know, like WC, except newbies don't have the stogie hanging off their lips as they stare down the Luftwaffe. Obviously, the 12-13ers did not get the joke.

"Like what?" says one.

I ask them if they know who Churchill was:

"Oooh, oooh, oooh, wait," says one, "Yes I think I know this one...He's the voice of Mermaid Man on Spongebob, right?"

How, I wonder, could any soul confuse Winston Churchill with the great American Oscar winning actor, Ernest Borgnine (think fast who plays Mermaid Man's sidekick on Spongebob -- hint -- think McHale's Navy [yes a Borgnine TV show] and who played McHales's sidekick?).

"Churchill", I say, "you know the 'We shall fight them on the Beaches', Churchill, the 'Never in the field of Human Endeavor' Churchill, the 'Iron Curtain' Churchill..." and then the torpedo...

"Well", says one of them, "whatever, Spongebob is just re-runs now anyway and I like Squidward's voice the best anyway, and did you know my Dad keep a stash of Tootsie Rolls in the glove compartment of the van and..." I think about just how peaceful and perfect this neighborhood is. I would not want it anyother way There's a property going up for sale a few houses down. Call me at 617.470.8085 for a showing: I'll lay off the history lesson

Courtesy of Real Estate Humor

Two women were walking through the woods when a frog called out to them and said: "Help me, ladies! I am a real estate agent who, through an evil witch's curse, has been transformed into a frog. If one of you will kiss me, I'll be returned to my former state!"

One woman took out her purse, grabbed the frog, and stuffed it inside her handbag. The other woman, aghast, screamed, "Didn't you hear him? If you kiss him, he'll turn into a real estate agent!"

The second woman replied, "Sure, but these days a talking frog is worth more than a real estate agent!"

Timing is Everything

This from the School Crossing Guard at the corner of Godin and Washington.

"This lady rolls her Volvo up Godin the in the wrong direction. I stop her and tell her that during school hours this street is one way and that one way is not the way she is going.

'She tells me, 'But it is Sunday.'

'Monday,' I tell her and she insists,

'If it is Monday, where are all the kids?'

'In the school.' and then I see her kids huddled and snickering in the back seat, 'All except your kids.'

She gives me a look like I'm from the Outer Limits, then looks at herslf in the mirror like she's a cast extra from the Lost Weekend.

"She turns to the kids, 'You knew, didn't you!' then just like out of another time, she yells, "Just wait 'til your father gets home!' and she wheels the car about and heads to the school drop off.

"Ya can't believe the things you see."

Town Day

Tomorrow, June 9 a big Town Day in Belmont. All sorts of stuff going on. There's the annual Carnival on the gorunds of the High School (there is an Open House not far away..stop in). There is the town picnic, and, of course, there is the threat of rain -- exciting.

Walk the streets, get some exercise, see the Town of Belmont.

Just follow the lights of the Ferris Wheel (and the noise of the folks). Oh, you'll recognize me...I'll be the guy with the hot dog.

One Liners

And now for my occasional feature where I cut loose with some of the quick flips that pass by or filter through my brain:

The Real Estate Sales Lady is married to the son of the largest Funeral Director in town. I suggested to them they print joint business cards that have the slogan, "One way or another, we're going to get you into land."

A guy is listing his house -- a small job with an "in-law" apartment up top -- for sale and he tells me, "I've lived here for 36 years and I don't regret one day of it."
Mournful statement until he says, "The one day I don't regret is March 17, 2005. It was my mother-in-law's funeral."

I'm taking a family on a buying tour and decide to treat them to lunch at the Andros Diner on Trapelo Road in Belmont. Mom asks the daughter, "Of all the places we've been to, which do you like best?"
"This one," the girl says, "they feed us here."

"My Little Corner of the World"

That is a song title up there. The song itself was playing on the radio yesterday as I was tooting about my little corner of the world (Belmont, MA). It was playing on WJIB (740 AM) on the -- dare we say in this age of push button optimization -- dial.

Salesfolk, whether they be the dynamic Ben Gay III types, or closer to the mark, more of the Willy Loman strain, tend to have one thing in common. They drive. They may drive a Ferrari or Yugo but they drive hither and yon in their endless pursuit of taking what one person does not want and getting it to someone who does want it.

That much time on the road, in my case the local road, means we live with our radios, and my radio is tuned to the little gem noted above: WJIB 740 AM Cambridge/Boston.

Where else will you find Louis Prima followed by "Bread" followed by Dean Martin followed by Anne Murray, Kate Smith, Gordon Lightfoot, Midler, Glen Miller, Steve and Edie, "elevator music", Satchmo, Beethoven (yes), and so on WITHOUT commercials.

I am brought back to that more gentile time when dad wore fedoras and moms were class mothers, not "Parent room advisors" and FM was a something one would write about for a school science project. Things do change, but thank goodness,thanks to WJIB the music need not. Tune in, if for nothing else the eclectic mix of things you may never hear again.

The station has NO website but click this link if you wish to learn some stats about it.

Con-DUMB-iniums

Condominiums have been around for years, and they have played a vital role in the housing, well being and financial dealing of folks all around the country. My own forey in Condo land began and ended happily. I have nothing but fond memories of that little slice of heaven (very little -- 330 sq ft.) I called home in the North End of Boston.

But there has been, in the last ten years, a newer trend in Condo conversions: the two-family conversion. This ditty, while it has all the wrappings of the 10, 20 or larger editions of the product, is unique in that -- well it is 2 units. I have seen documents put togther by quick sell 2 family owners that leave much to the imagination. Lots of questions, lots of fights.

You see, good readers, the larger condo associations operate like little city states. The citizens of Athens get together and Aristotle tells everyone that the building needs painting. Plato says something about the paint has to come from the stars, and Socrates is just trying to get everyone to vote before he has to limp off and take poison. They vote and they do -- or don't paint.

The 2-fam condo is more like a marriage. Ponder it: the two parties live in the same structure, have the usual domestic quarrels, deal with the breakdowns and leaks, squabble and spat over who should do what and, in general, are on their own in the cold cruel world. Yessir, a lot like a marriage, except you probably will never get a chance to see the other party in the arrangement naked.

Come to think of it, the 2-fam condo is more like an ARRANGED marriage; the papers are passed the money flows. Then you meet the other party (where, at least in the arranged marriage, you WILL get to see the other half naked).

But, few and far between are the arranged betrothals these days, and I should hazard that 2 Fam unions should be entered into with all the sanctity of an espousal made in heaven, not "Vegas".

So herewith, a few observational pointers for any dear readers who may be pondering "getting down on one knee" with Offers to Purchase in Hand:

1. Meet the other owner -- If this is "not possible", then run...put yourself back into the dating scene. Buyers who like a home will spend time cruising around the neighborhood, getting a feel for the whole environment and its people. Why not do the same thing for "the people" living under the same roof as you?
2. Know the structure. -- Everything should have accommodations. Firm up the holes over how things are paid. No round to-its, -- as in "I'll get around to it". Cut those schedules into stone and stick to them.
3. Know your electrical lines, especially in the basement. Know your water lines, especially in the basement.
4. Let the other party know when you are doing work on your part of the plantation. Even if it is simply painting, let them know. Smells permeate. If it is piping, wiring or any sort of invasive improvement, make sure all work channels through common wall space. If you plan to sand your floors this Tuesday, first make sure that the better half in the bottom unit did not just get off the Swing Shift at Raytheon.
5. After having sanded those hardwood floors, do not take up tap dancing.
6. If it does turn out that you marriage is not one of heaven and you falter in the above or any other areas, keep my number, (617) 470.8085, close by. I have lots of intimate "singles" waiting when you and the other half bust up. You may not get a chance to see anybody naked, but at least you will be able to leave your dirty laundry in the basement.

O.H. Redux -- You can't make this stuff up

I am down in the basement with a rather attentive couple. They are asking this and they are asking that and I am smelling "Offer to Purchase". They head out the basement door to talk things over and I head back upstairs to attend to the footfalls of other prospective buyers. I hazard not more than a small glance at the old woman sitting serenly at the kitchen table. I do notice, however, that she has a bemused calm about her, as though the years between the gentile time of her day and the harsh electronic nonsense of today have filled her not with a sense of doom, but of blissful longing for a simpler time.

Great, I say to myself. Perchance she will have a good word with one of the other prospects -- the one with whom she came. She'll say something about how the house glistens with the charm of another time and she would happily bequest a chunk of her estate to the purchase of this property.

I spend a few minutes in this agent reverie, and even pass her again. I proffer her a smile and a "How you do?"

"Oh, fine," she says, "A cup of tea would be nice about now."

I smile and joke, "I'll see what I can do, but right now I MUST excuse myself to attend business."

"You're excused," she says.

A few moments pass, and, inexplicably, my O.H. is empty. I catch my breath to prepare for another wave -- the final 15 minutes. I sigh and think about how hard we sales folk do work -- sometimes. I begin to expend air into another sigh, when that mournful moan is cut short by one from another set of vocal chords...coming from the KITCHEN.

It is the serene old lady. Sitting there, calm as ever.

"Is there something I can do for you?" I ask her.

"That cup of tea you mentioned would be nice."

"Are you with someone."

"Heaven's no. I walked here all alone. When will Ida be coming home?"

At this I quake, for there is no Ida in this house, and I duly report this to her.

"Oh!", she exclaims, "I must have walked into the wrong house!" and she gets up to head to the door rattling off a litany of apologies the length of which you would expect to hear from a "Perp" who just got nailed stealing the Police Commissioner's car.

I tell her it is all right. I close up the house. I offer her a ride. She accepts. My reveries of a fat commission check are put on hold, and as I drive her down the road, she breaks me from my dismal state when she asks, "Tell me young man, that Green place that is in the center of town, that Starbucks,...do you think they might have a cup of tea in there for me?...And you?

O.H. On the March

12:00 to 2:00 172 Brattle in Arlington
1:00 to 3:00 18 Cuching in Medford

Stay tuned for OH Reflections -- coming later today.

O.H. redux

Don't forget. I'll be at the Open Houses this Sunday. The 172 Brattle St in Arlington runs from 12:00 - 2:00, and then I will zing off to the 18 Cushing Street OH in Medford from 1:00 to 3:00. (I realize I will not be in 2 places at once, but Scotty's been tuning up the transporter so I should be able to transfer fairly fast.). One of my colleagues will be at the houses when I am not. Hope to see you!

"O.H." ing

For those who have asked, yes I will be on the Open House curcuit this weekend. I will be at 172 Brattle Street in Arlington, MA and 18 Cushing Street in Medford, MA. Check your local listing for game times, sports fans (always wanted to say that!).

Brattle Street is a charmer for the first timer, condo alternative, or a great looker for the downsizer. See my review of it from 2 days ago.

Cushing Street has explosive income potential on a quiet street. A 2 unit job with a finished thrid floor that could make for a stupendous master bedroom. Now it is an exercise/playroom.

So stop in and tell a joke or hear a joke, and don't forget make an offer. I'd love to see ya.

For more information, visit John Montanro RE.