The Grass is Always "Greener" in the Kid's Room

Ok, so it is fall and we are not into thinking of grass but, it appears, there is more to grass than a trip to Home Depot

The other day, I take a fine cusotmer to a modest home that is, to say the least, not ready to be presented

Really not ready for showing: clothes strewn about, cereal in the sink -- 2 bedrooms that are not up to standards generally accepted today (I supposed one could sleep in a garage and call it a bedroom). I surely had nothing to say, yet the buyer persisted in the tour and went upstairs to said non standard bedrooms. As we entered the one on the left, the eyes of the buyer met mine -- both our noses twitched and, "Wow", said the buyer, "Bill Clinton must have slept here."

"Or," I replied, "at least he did NOT inhale here!"

"Good stuff," my buyer editorialized, "I wonder where the kid hides it."

We made no attempt to find the, uhh, shall we say "potpourri". Rather we exited the home and went our way. There are better homes in the town, you know...the greener grass thing -- especially because in this house, the grass gets smoked.

First Quarter Real Estate "Round Down"

Get it? Round-up? ... "down"?... Never mind. The idea up there was a hint that first quarter 2011 sales were down in numbers of transactions in 2011 versus 2010...at least in the areas that I haunt.

Looking at the 3 Musketeers of residential RE (Singles, Condos and Multis), only Watertown improved over 2010 in the seven towns where I did some work. Belmont was down 2 (32 in 2011 versus 34 for 2010), Newton dropped 7 units from 2020's 122; Lexington sank to 58 from 2010's 62. Waltham got "clocked" (get it? Waltham Watch/Clock Company?) -- down to 78 sales from 2020's 93. Medford finished out the quarter at 79 sales (11 below 2010); Arlington ran out at 69; 8 shy of 2010's total. Only Watertown upped the ante: 61 sales for Q1 2011 UP from 2010's 52.

I wouldn't put too much stock into this, yet folks. Let's wait 'til we review the numbers and the mix -- then we can decide what to do with "all" our stock...Stay tuned.

A Friend in Need Should NOT Be a Friend (IN)Deed

She comes to me and says, "We were together for 5 years. It seemed only natural."

My friend here (ALL my friends are women), was showing me shapshots of the renovated kitchen in the condo she bought "yonder" about 8 years ago. "I mean," she postured, "We did so much work on the place, together, and he seemed to be the perfect guy!"

Now, folks, those of you who know me, can well attest that I work magic on women -- I make 'em disappear! I bring this up to point out that IF I knew what was the perfect man, I would have fashioned myself to be one long ago....So I asked her, "Perfect? How so."

"Well, single, never married, no kids, fortyish, living with his mother..." I lose it there...Any woman who thinks a forty-year-old living with is mother is perfect, well...'nuf said on that!

"So," she continues, "it was only natural. It seemed so normal to do it....And then I find out -- he's been in so many affairs that he should be a caterer! And he comes to me and tells me he's got some girl pregnant and, get this...he wonders if maybe it might be best if WE raise the child as OUR own!" And off she goes to Sobbingland.

"Well throw Old Lochinvar out, for crissake," I say.

"But I can't."

"Listen, honey," I move in for the heart-to-heart, "this is no time to play the conscience, the guy's a bum with a wet wick..."

"No it is not that," she cries, "we were an 'US'; a together, a 'WE'...so last year, I put his name on the deed. I can't throw him out; he owns the place too!" (And now even I'M crying!) "Yes, last year, while he was shakin' and bakin' in Miss GirlScoutCookie's oven, I was off at the lawyer changing the ownership of this place from a 'ME' to a 'WE'. On our 'quote' anniversary, 'unquote', I showed it to him. So Ya see, I can't throw him out, no more than he can throw me out! And he can bring his damn cupcake in with him, I suppose and we can all do a 3-some, or maybe THEY do a 2-some while I burp the baby." And inconsolable tears aplenty pour forth.

Readers, when words fail me (and they DO NOT FAIL very often), I think of cleavage, and here, words failed me... For a few short moments, I thought about how my friend would look in a shred of lingerie from the Frederick's of Hollywood collection (this situation was WELL beyond Victoria's Secret stuttering!).

"Uhhh, yeah," I say, my "unShakesperean moment continuing, "Uhh ya," and I say the only thing I can say, "Call your attorney."

Who knows, maybe it all can be undone. Maybe there is something in deceitful intent...but one thing is for certain -- don't make a friend, indeed, a friend IN DEED.

Order of Notice Review 2010

For those folks who do not know what is an "Order of Notice", let us move into the magical land of make believe: let us imagine this scenerio:

Scene 1, Take 1: Owner opens letter on the table. Perplexed by the big words, and stymied by the reference to military personnel, the owner puts down the letter, picks it up, reads it again.
Scene 2, Take 1: Owner divides the big words in the calligraphy on the page and realizes that this letter is notice that their "banker" intends to begin foreclosure proceedings. The letter in hand is serving notice that if the owner is active in the military service of his/her country, he/she should so make written notice to that effect...and so our story goes.

The "OON" is a good indicator on foreclosures. In Belmont, 12 neighbors got the OON in 2010. That is an imporvement of the 17 who got the riot act put on them on 2009. Sad, but a bucking of the trend as the chart below of surrounding towns details:


Waltham in 2010 104; in 2009 73
Lexington in 2010 20; in 2009 16
Arlington in 2010 38; in 2009 13
Medford in 2010 119; in 2009 111
Watertown in 2010 38; in 2009 38

This may well look like good news for Belmont, but silver linings, DO, in fact cover the storms. It may well be that so many of our homes were bought at such infalted prices, that banks DO NOT WANT TO FORECLOSE. Why foreclose on an unsellable property; why pick up ownership and have to pay those taxes? Better to let the defaulting owner dangle in the breeze (or hurricane).

Not too funny, but then, it isn't supposed to be.

Value Added Investment Grade? One step at a Time

Agents live for broker tours. For those not of the "cognoscenti", a broker tour is like an Open House, except it is an Open House for the "elect" -- read that for only brokers. It is a chance for a listing agent to show a property to other agents in the hope they may well have a client who would like the home. Agents going on tour do not necessarily like the Broker Tours for this -- they like it for the free food that is usually spread out by the Listing Agent to entice the traffic. For example, in my corner of the world, "lunch" is served in Belmont, Arlington and Cambridge on Tuesdays, Wednesday it is Newton, and Friday it is Watertown and Waltham (yum yum). Other towns in my area have their days...check an agent's GPS history and you can figure that out for Medford, Lexington, Wellesley, Brookline and so on.

The other day, I go to this broker tour. I am cheerfully met at the door by a sprightly young agent (I know she is young...the low cut sweater [a Cashmere Over Sized Cowl Tunic from Michael Star; $326] that she wears is slightly amiss at the left shoulder exposing not just a maroon bra strap [Victoria's Secret], but also the wing of an angel tattoo pricked into the skin, I surmise, after a long night with some Brown University frat boy(s?) -- I recognize the work...Ronnie's Tattoo, Providence, RI; $89.99).

"Welcome," she says, and, "Oh, could you please remove your shoes?"

Now readers, at my stage in life and in this place and time, I should be excited when a woman asks me to remove ANY article of my clothing, in this case, if for nothing else, for the one second of fantasy that this person has a foot fetish. Alas, sadly, she spoke too fast and cut all "fantasm" to the quick.

"It is the rugs," she imparts, "they are collector quality."

For the first time, I looked below the agent's torso, passed the Eileen Fisher Stretch Ponte Pencil Skirt (Sak's Fifth Avenue, $158), down the finely waxed calves (Li Kim Thuy's Nail and Wax Shop [bikini lines a specialty], Dorchester, perhaps?) and down to the bare feet ("Shoeless" Joe Jackson; Chicago White Sox, 1919). Off to the right was an imitation brass scupper (Home and Hearth, $68), and neatly resting in it were the agent's shoes; black high heeled "court pumps" from Redoute Creations, Paris (40 Euros or 60 bucks at current exchange rates).

"You see," she continued, "the rugs are all quite pricey. This one is an Isfahan and over there in the sitting room is a Bakhshaish. This runner is a Hussainaba. They are investments!"

Now folks, I really do not want to talk rugs here, but rugs as an investment?...I mean if you want people to just stamp and stomp all over your investments, that is O.K, but why not just give your money to Wall Street? That's what they down there everyday.

"Uh, huh," I say as I remove my shoes (PayLess $14.99 Buy-One-Get-One-Free [BOGO]), thanking God for the wisdom of that trip to Marshall's the day before (New black socks, slightly irregular, 6 pair; $3.99). As I am doing this, I am searching about for the route to the kitchen and the free lunch platter laid out. After all, all I want, all ALL agents want is a sandwich and maybe a Coke to go (free at Broker Tours; $1.59 at 7-11; remember to cash in the can and you come out a nickel to the good!).

"And," she points out, "all the collectibles on the walls!", and she directs my attention to the shelves and cut outs and nooks and crannies filled with bric-a-bracs, porcelains and potteries of all manner of invention.

"Listen," I say, still looking beyond her slender posterior for the platter (do I smell roast beef!?), "I don't know, kiddo...you are going to bring a lot of people into this house and with all these nicknacks about, well...I'd be afraid that some of them are going to get 'paddy-whacked'...and you'll be the one that will have to, shall we say, 'give the dog the bone' if you get my drift". She didn't, apparently she is too young for the "This-Old-Man-He-Plays-One" joke motif.

"Come again?" she says, and I reply something to the effect that at my age, I would need a good dose of Viagra to do that (she didn't get that joke either).

"I don't understand," she says.

I tell her, "What I mean is...it's the stuff...no one -- not even you!!! -- will be looking at the house. It is ALL stuff. First you ask folks to take off their shoes...what if they have a hole in their sock?" (Thank God [again] I went to Marshalls!), "then they walk into this museum. Let me tell ya, honey, people want to live in a house, not a museum. You know who lives in a museum?...King Tut lives in a museum, and for him that's an upgrade, 'cause before that he was living in a freaking hole in the desert for 3 thousand years!. Folks want to see if their entertainment center from Jordan's Furniture will fit here. They want to see the glow of the hardwood floors; they don't want to tip-toe around some magic carpet smuggled out of Pakistan. For your sake and for the sake of your client, you need to get this place cleaned up. You're not selling admission tickets here...you are selling a house."

She begins a retort of some sort, but I am gone; I see the snake route to the kitchen and the spread; catered by Rebecca's!!! ooooh!, Turkey, Tuna, Veggie, and ROAST BEEF on SOUR DOUGH ROLLS ($7.99 each), a bag of Cape Cod Chips ($1.19)...and a Diet Coke.........TO GO.

April Fool's Day

Other than the fact that Rambler (Actually by then called American Motors) introduced the piece of crap "Gremlin" "car", we see nothing very funny happening on this day of fools.

We cannot even find a reason, other than of the Urban variety as why this day is noted as such. Some say it has to do with the changing of the New Year to January (instead of timing it with the beginning of spring -- that was foolish), but that seems not the case as Chaucer in the 1300's talks of Fools Day and the switcheroo to January took form a couple hundred years later.

One thing is certain -- pranks will be played, for humor is the name of the day. Lest, however we forget what humor is, we must be reminded at ALL humor needs a victim. Someone needs to fall, or have his face flattened by a frying pan, or be ridiculed in public. In order for an audience to laugh, some ONE person has to cry. So go out and do one's thing on this day...the village idiot is waiting to be slapped.

Agents are full of S**T Redux, Redux as in again

'nuf said?... read on
By State House News Service
Belmont Citizen-Herald
Posted Mar 25, 2010 @ 01:02 PM
Boston, Mass. — Completed foreclosures in Massachusetts fell 19.6 percent in February, compared to January, but were 10.4 percent higher than in February 2009, according to data released Thursday morning. Also, foreclosure deeds jumped 13.8 percent to 2,058 in the first two months of the year from 1,809 during the same period in 2009, the Warren Group reported. Foreclosures started by lenders in Massachusetts in February were up more than 13 percent over January but down 7.5 percent from a year ago, according to data released Thursday morning. Over the first two months of 2010 foreclosure petitions – the first step in the foreclosure process – are down 6.1 percent from the comparable period in 2009, according to The Warren Group. “In the last six months, an average of about 2,100 foreclosure petitions were filed each month. That’s a pretty high level, but the pace is much lower than it was in the early part of 2008, when lenders were filing an average of about 3,000 petitions to foreclose a month,” Warren Group CEO Timothy M. Warren said in a statement.

Copyright 2010 Belmont Citizen-Herald. Some rights reserved

Liquid Assets in Waltham

Ms. Flanagan, my thoughts are with you today.

For those who do not know Ms. Flanagan, she is the Berkley St homeowner who is, well, not living in her home because the home moved...yes moved...about a foot, so the FOX news folks tell me, OFF its foundation.

Why did it move? Seems, 'though I am no engineer, it "trolleyed" off its cement track because of the recent storms that brought oodles of rain, followed by doodles of more rain a few days later (actually yesterday).

I cannot say how rain can "push a house", but I am reminded of the earthquake term, LIQUIFICATION. This is where the ground, normally harder that a sixty-year-old coot over dosing on Viagra, gets pushed, cajoled and shaken enough so that is gets soft (like the coot after his 2 minutes as Lord Lochinvar, or George Clooney). It may well be akin to when you kick a hard clump of dirt and it breaks up in to a gazillion little pieces. In that state of being, the soil no longer can hold the man-made edifice upon it and things shift, or fall down as the case may be. In Ms. Flanagan's case, water may have softened by the whole thing and, the rest is "moving".

The news reports that the Flanagan home is not in a flood zone (I know the street) and I would agree from my unprofessional view, but I would also conjecture that the forensics of the situation will point to GROUNDWATER issues, and that would not be covered anyway.

At all rates, my heart goes out to them and I wish them well. I would hope there will be no tears shed -- there has been wnought water...

Agents are full of S**T -- Redux

Yesterday (see below) I put out some stats on Orders of Notice in my corner of the world, YTD versus last year for the same period. They painted a grim picture "malgre" the rosy smiles of the "housewife home hucksters" who daily run about hawking homes whilst "habidashing" about the kitchen curtains.

I was asked by many for some support of the numbers as they were from "only a small sample" of towns.

Herewith, I pick Suffolk County -- That is BOSTON, REVERE, CHELSEA, WINTHROP. Here goes...

1/1/10 to 3/18/10 560 Orders of Notice.
1/1/09 to 3/18/09 194 Orders of Notice.

As far as Middlesex South goes...

1/1/10 to 3/18/10 745 Orders of Notice
1/1/09 to 3/18/09 202 Orders of Notice

'nuf said?

Agents are Full of S**T

Here in my corner of the world, the next time your bubbly agent tells you how great things are in the world and how that world will only be greater for you if you buy this home "TODAY!!!!!!", ask that agent of yours about "ORDERS of NOTICE". Now, mind you, they probably do not know what those things are. My advice in that situation is to get another agent, FAST! Just call me, actually.

That is an order of notice over yonder the right there. Not a pretty thing I would hazard (privacy information has been blocked out), AND, it gets uglier as one learns about them.

Herewith is a small primer on what we will now abbreviate as OON:

An OON may be considered an solid indicator of foreclosures coming up. It is a required document filed at the Registry of Deeds that notified folks that their lender is going to foreclose on them. The OON is required because any person in the military can seek relief under the Service members Civil Relief Act (one rightly cannot foreclose on a bloke shooting down some scum bucket who wants to do harm to Americans).

An now, hers are some stats to ponder.

Looking at this year to date (1/1 - 3/18) there have been in "my" areas (Belmont, Arlington, Watertown and Medford) 66 OON's plopped in mailboxes of sinking homeowners; 37 of those are in Medford, by the way.

In the same period last year, there were 14!...Yes only 14 (11 in Medford).

That is a big clunk. When one thinks of all the foreclosures that have been laid to rest, and these numbers coming up that ARE NOT in the stats,...well conjecture is worth a few moments when next we "latte at Starbucks".

What does this mean? Well, we will expand our stat collection and see if the patterns are "All over the board". Then, we will be better able to discern if your happy agent is full of S**T, or completely down and out of the crapper already.

"Ducking" the Weather

There are ducks swimming in my backyard...not in the little pond at the northwest corner, but in the yard where, at about this time every year, I begin the annual toil of planting happy grass and expunging, well, crab grass. Not today.

It appears the water table has risen above the banks of the pond, and the pond has made ownership of a substantial swath of the yard. I noticed a fish in a place that would normally make it a "fish out of water". I had hoped the little adventurer wold submarine itself back to the deeper climes of the pond, but sadly, that did not happen;...an aquatic squirrel tip-toed through the shallows and made a "canape" of the "carp."

Many open houses on this Sunday just gone were "called on account of rain." Brokers, deciding to put valor in the "bottom drawer", felt it best to "close for the day" rather than have to explain to a doubting public that the "wet basement is ONLY during unusual rains" such as these. I kept my open house going: I had not problem facing up to the sceptics about the seepage...no problem because NO ONE came.

The high school is closed today. Flooding. A few other communities are suffering the same fate. Not the flooding but having teenagers with a day off and nothing to do. I suspect the "little darlings" will spend it nursing cheap beer out of paper bags behind the Dunkin Donuts on Trapelo Road, or behind the library if the babbling brook there has not overflowed its banks. The town will fairly glow with beer cans reflecting in headlights by tonight.

I'll be out showing some properties. Let's take advantage of all this. How much off the list price can we get for a sopping basement? Time will tell....

So that's the way things are in my corner of the world in these rain swept times. Time to put on the flippers and check my own basement.

Wheel Estate Redux

I have been driving a Yaris these days. It appears to be, at this point at least, the only car that has not been recalled by Toyota.

Perhaps my Yaris is truly a super car, but perhaps there are other reasons for no recall and herewith are but a few speculations:

There are but a handful on the road. The numbers sold are counted in tens of thousands, not in millions like the Corolla. Perhaps Toyota forgot to recall them.

I paid a mere 13k for the jalopy. I suppose, if there is something wrong with the chariot, just dump it out on Monday morning with the rest of the recycled cans and plastic (the Yaris, I have been told, is made of aluminum recycled cans).

And, perhaps, anyone riding around in a little car made from Dr. Pepper metal deserves to die, so no bother for a recall.

Yet, as I go off to present a property, I am confident that the brakes will work at 30 MPH and the car (unlike the Prius) will not get stuck at 90 miles per hour (I doubt my Yaris will crank out 60 MPH without the hubcaps falling off).

Now I know what you all are thinking. Does he not look like a fool driving up a sales meeting whilst driving a Tonka Toy?! Where is his sense of status, his sense of lording over the baffled customer; the shock and awe of a BMW?

Ahh, yes, I have addressed that. You see, in this age of less is more, or if not more than just the best we can do, I feel the BMW or any other Luxury car from one of the former AXIS countries bespeaks a pompous and out-of-touch message. Unemployment is rising and this chump is driving up in a Lexus -- a new one??? -- damn I'll be damned if I'll give that parasite a lick of business.

Ahhhhh, but as I drive up in the Yaris, clean and shiny humming of cheap gas consumption, I am ever asked, "What is that little thing?"

A Yaris, I posit. Gets me where I need to go fast, easy, and simple. I can park it in the smallest of wedges. I am in and out. And with my business booming right now, I need to move, and move fast. Now how about this home...let's take a look and see what it does for you, shall we?

Status symbols are everywhere --- just remember symbols say, hard workers DO.

Don't Cry for Me, Agent Tina.....

Yesterday, being Washington's birthday, I decided to plaster a bit of personal honesty on Facebook -- that rightly maligned piece of crap that the kids use to coordinate their drug deals all the while being watched by B&E folks looking for a sap to tell the world he is on vacation for the next 5 days...

My bit of honesty took the review tense. It noted that I HAD been gone for 9 days. It opined that "nobody" noticed.

Today, as I check emails, messages, calls, letters, carrier pigeon guano, and all other manner of communication avenues, it is clear that my "nobody" opinion was a tad off the mark.

Herewith are a few comments that came by the assorted info-hiway splatters:

"Are you dead?!?!...I heard so, call me if you are not."

"Hey baby, you lookin' for a good time in Woburn?" (Emailer had the a wrong addy -- that's what happens when you drink mercury instead of margaritas.)

"Hey, it's me...call me, ok uhhh, I was wondering about that house." (Who are you?)

"Hey, it's me...did I just call you or did I dial wrong? OK so either way, call me."

"I'd like to order a..." (We cut that one off right there.)

"Msng U in Woburn. (What's going on up there.)

"OMFG whre hv U gone?" (Joltin' Joe has left and gone away)

"I was wondering if I can set up an appt to meet with yu and see if you think I can sell my house in Belmont" (I actually responded to that one while I was in Southern Climes)

"Viagra Cheap!" (I don't want the Viagra to be cheap...I want the DATE to be cheap!)

"Hi this is Tina from XXXXXX Realty, I mean Betty, Bettina, Elizabeth, Liza...god so like I can get so many names out of Elizabeth, and I forgot which one YOU call me, so call me." (For the record, I call her "BETH"!!!!!!!)

I guess I was missed after all...

Con-DUMB-iniums Redux

Thought I would repeat these words of wisdom scribed long ago. It seems some in Belmont have not learned the lessons. Read on....


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 your 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.

First Time Buyer in the Swiss Alps

I am with this young pup of an agent, and he just wants to tag along and tag along. He is taking notes; notes of everything that I do. I spy, on one of his little sheets, a marker in the midst of some scribe he has jotted. I ask, "What does that mark mean."

"Oh, that," he says, "it tells me when you took a breath..."

OK, I think, he is a cross between a psychopath and a boy scout, but then again, so long as he's making those marks, I am breathing so...

I try to break away, but he keeps coming. I am forced into my first white lie of the afternoon:

"I have to bug off now. I am taking a class."

"Wow. Cool," he says, "A class in what?"

I am a tad speechless by his insinuation into my person life, yet in an effort cut cut him off with good humor, I posture this little joke:

"Yodeling," I say. "I am taking a class in Yodeling", and I walk off...BUT

He is not done...It seems he did not get the joke, for he continues: "Cool, like where do you do that?"

And I am forced to posture, "Well, why...at the...ummm...at the Boston Center for Adult Education...of course."

"Wow, really neat, I did not know this stuff happened..."

Now I am forced to go on the offensive until he gets the joke:

"Well you see, Yodeling is not to be taken lightly. it is just not squawking! There is the syllabic part and the inflective part, and if either is not done correctly, you can start an avalanche! For example, take the syllabic 'Yodel-aye-ee oh!' -- very terse and sharp. Your have to smooth into it, but most people cannot do it...and bang! hitting it too hard and you've got a mountain slide! Let me demonstrate a smooth entrance to the oft quoted 'yodel-aye-ee-oh'....'YODELEETEE-YODELAYETEE-Yodel-aye-ee-ooohh.' Smooth, eh?"

He IS impressed and still believes it all, but his text messaging kicks in and he finds his pimpled teenage bride flacking out the OMG's and CU LTR's and ILYSM's and so ons and so forths. He is gone, and I am free.

This believe everything sucker is gonna go far in this world; that is for sure. He has to...all the way to Europe. Before he left, I sold him the entire north side of the Matterhorn for a song!

Happy New Year?

Low and behold; in my corner of the world agents are celebrating "Realtor New Year" on November 19. To the outside world, this might seem a bit strange -- a bunch of agents cavorting around the neighborhood, happy smiling celebrating taking tme off -- wait a tad, they are like that all year! So what be the reason for this date, and I may add, the flurry of activity going about as they get ready for the horns and hoopla on the 19th?

Agents in these last few days before the BIG 19 have been out in force trying to get a "deal" in. "Ya wanna buy a house?" Hey buddy...yeah you...c'mere...looks like you needs a house for a good time...You get the pitcure. Why why why?

Ahh, dear reader, the answer lies in the calendar... Let us look. 31 days in December plus those days from the 19th through the 30th of November, that makes, let's see 1, 2 3...12. Add that to the 31 and you get 45 days.

AND 45 days the benchmark used by agents. From the time an offer is written until the "papers" have passed is a standard (so we try) span of 45 days. Get some shnook to sign on the dotted line on November 18, and you get your agent check on December 31. Ink the contract on NOVEMBER 19 and BANG! 45 days later your agent commission check is there -- IN JANUARY! Happy New Year.

I should wonder about this, and how buyers and sellers are served by this and the countdown to moneymoneymoney, but, as an agent told me, "So long as the clients don't know, so what?"

OOOPS I just told you! And now you know something new about your agent. I just hope your New Year's Resolutions include learning something new.

Happy Birthday Internet

Forty years ago today, a message "lo" was sent from the University of California to The Stanford Institute. It was the FIRST Internet message (Al Gore was NOT there). With this in mind I look about the Real Estate world and what do I see? Nothing. Nothing has changed. In fact in spite of what they say, 89% of buyers go the the broker they know, not the one the Internet. Internet sites may give someone information, but when it comes to hard knocks, folks are knocking on the local doors. So keep on texting folks, everybody knows my name (and my face well, in the flesh). Its all good for business here on the cement highway...

"Swine" Flu

What with all the the talk of the above noted malady, there seems to be a trend towards NOT shaking hands. This, the idea of "shaking hands" in itself, begs a full article, what with countless pointers and directions about time, speed, and intensity of grip all playing into the A, B, C personality crap, but herewith, we are focusing on an singular episode. Read on...

Yesterday, I was asked to escort an agent to his new listing -- a BIG home; grand in all scales, not the least of them all was its age as well as the age of the owner. The owner, an elderly matron had, it seems, raised a whole family of children in the home. Those seedlings, now all sprung to full bloom in diaspora fashion across the globe, and husband, now gone to reward, the elderly woman decided to put the home on the market:

"Such a big home for such a small old lady," she said as my young agent friend brought me forward.

"Mrs. XXXXX, I want you to meet Al. He's my mentor, a great guy who knows everything about this area."

"Hello," she says, with a stern look of motherly scorn.

"Pleased to meet you," I say and I reach out to, yes, shake her hand...

"Heavens no," she says, and she recoils a feeble step.

"Oh, I am ever so sorry," I aver, "what with all the talk of swine flu and shaking hands, what must I have been thinking?"

Just then she applies: It has nothing to do with swine flu, young man. I just do not want to shake YOUR hand, now or ever! You were a bad boy, a bad little boy...do you know how long it took me to get those stickers off the bathroom mirror?!?!"

Stickers, bathroom mirror...oh yes, Bugs Bunny, Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam, and yes Porky Pig...I just have been 4 years old when I visited a strange home, for what reason I shall never know, and in a moment of childhood creativity, found some stokers in a room somewhere and plastered them all over a mirror. IT WAS THIS HOUSE!

"Bad boy," she said. You left without telling anyone. You deserved to be fully reprimanded. You were a sloppy dirty little pig of a child. I hope you have corrected yourself!

I am, again, 4 years old.....

"Now go...," she points to the kitchen, "in there, on the counter is aplate of fresh cookies. Take a napkin, and NO crumbs, I say!"

Back to School Redux

A lot of folks in my corner of the world seemed a bit put off by my flippant remarks and clear joy at the return of school. Unapologetic to the end, I hearwith join my Navy heritage to the return to school. Let's all sing along to the tune of "Anchor's Away!"

My kid's away, thank god!
My kid's away...
She's off at boarding school
for Ninety bucks a day ay ay, HEY!

'Though it's a lot to pay,
no gripes you'll see.
'Cause if there are,
then they will
ship her back,
they'll ship her back to me!

In My LIttle Corner of the World

In my little corner of the world, the kids are going back to school. Today... Yesterday, you could sense the emotion; the little ones were out in force on the nice day, soaking up the sun, trying to get in the last bit of play. I spent much of the day in a park. It was interesting to see the dynamics: for the kids, gone were the camps and rules. Left to their own devices, they made games out of rocks and sticks, jumping and running, scoring on a point system that was duly invented for the moment and is now forgotten.

There seemed to be more bicycles out and about on this last day. A few kids were testing out new sneakers. Some older kids, high school bound, were jockeying for position on the bully ladder, using fashion the way, in my day, they used a fist.

Some parents are tearful as that whole "sunrise, sunset" thing kicks in. Others are thoughtful at the "circle of life" gig going on. A couple skulking in the corner are fully giddy at the prospect of the kids gone -- they are having an affair.

In a few days, the patterns that will dictate our lives will full into place, and we will all move on, a bit diminished by the last summer gone in a fast declining decade.

For those of us in real estate, the fall means a return to business: folks will re-assess themselves, make "New Year" resolutions and wonder, wonder about what to do next. Homes will be marketed, and homes will be sold.

So it goes in Belmont. Summer comes to a crashing end. This morning feels cold, although it is, according to the weather service, just like yesterday. But take heart -- Labor Day is just around the corner.