In having to travel to Clear Lake late this morning for a closing, I was indeed reminded of the power of our winds when blowing snow across a highway. I’ve always tried to be more careful when encountering those wind tunnels which make slicker sections in the roadways. I guess there are those braver than me when not backing off on their speeds when encountering those slippery sections. When I arrived at the house to remove the yard sign and lockbox off the front door, the wind seemed to have followed me to the home so I bundled more tightly and braved the weather. I wiggled and wrenched the sign until it finally gave loose and able to pull it out of the ground. While sitting at the closing table at the bank I told the buyer that I removed the lockbox and yard sign. He along with the agent were a bit surprised I was able to get it out. I simply said, “I made sure I ate my Wheaties this morning.” I looked at the extended weather again and it looks like we’re going to have these temps through next Monday. With the cold not being enough to endure, every time it gets so far below freezing, the tips of my fingers and tops of my knuckles start opening up. To imagine how painful something so small can be especially when trying to use anything requiring tip-of-the-finger touches—like typing and texting. Oh well, it’s all part of the process of enduring the winters here in North Iowa.
There were a few laughs exchanged at a shop today where I was unmercifully teasing a new employee who transferred here from Minneapolis. I said, “How’s the world in Bossapolis?” He looked at me strangely and said, “I’ve never heard Minneapolis being referred to as Bossapolis.” I laughed and said, “Many years ago I worked for a national corporation based in Minneapolis and whenever directives or changes in workloads were made, we considered it more demands coming out of Bossapolis.” He laughed and said, “I’ll have to remember that one.” Then I went on to say, “So, how do you like living in the last outpost before you reach the People’s Republic of Minnesota?” He really got a good belly laugh and said, “Now that I’ll certainly remember.” Yes, we all have to have a bit’o fun on these not so pleasant of days here River City.
With more than one of the younger ones with whom I do business with on a regular basis telling me our differences being nothing more than generational, I’ve come to the conclusion that today’s business world is diametrically different than those years when I first started in my career of real estate sales. I keenly remember some of the seasoned players of the time and respected them not because of their age or tenure in the business, but their knowledge and expertise. I can remember only two or three times having butted heads with tenured Realtors, and those times were when we were on opposing sides and the seniors thought I was going to simply bow to their demands which were based on their greed of having all of the pie instead of a generous half. With that said,
I’ve preached to the novices as well as managing brokers about some of my misgivings concerning their conduct in our profession, and I’ve found it’s fallen nearly always on deaf ears. After someone telling me in a cop-out sort of way our differences being only generational, I’ve walked away knowing that some must be left to their own devices.
