It was one of those days where I felt as if I were in my car more than at my desk. There were sold signs to pick up, houses to re-inspect, several runs to banks, and a few visits to attorneys offices. I was stacked so much with errands and phone calls to return, I almost didn’t make it to my late afternoon closing on time.
The closing of today’s listing went as smoothly as expected, but my seller who was working with another out-of-town Realtor in the purchase of a home in a small town a good drive away, didn’t realize how different transactions can be when using an agent who’s not been in the business very long, and also choosing a lending institution which at times, is layered with bureaucracy.
I did give him as much advice as possible on my end thru his roller-coaster ride in trying to get it to close back-to-back with today’s, but then at closing, I was informed it wasn’t going to happen. At least he’s staying upbeat over his ordeal along with having somewhere to live until weeks from now, his new purchase finally closes.
Another call came in today from a customer I’d been working with for months, and just last week I was informed by her that she’d found a “for sale by owner” in another town. Any time I hear of someone buying direct, I cringe because I know from experience I’ll be getting those “help me” calls before it’s all over. My call today just happened to be one of them.
I really don’t blame the buyers, but I certainly blame sellers for thinking they’re just as qualified as seasoned Realtors to handle the sale of their homes. It’s almost like asking a doctor to momentarily become a seasoned Realtor, or a factory worker to be a concert pianist, and perhaps even a web developer to be sociologist. I never wish bad on anyone, but it doesn’t surprise me whenever hearing about unfortunate happenings within the framework of a for sale by owner transaction–especially from those buyers.
There’ve been too many times I’ve been called years later by one of those buyers wanting sell. Almost always, I find myself having to tell them they paid too much for their homes at the time. In fact, just recently I had one, but fortunately our market prices went up enough to where she did manage to get it sold without having to write out a check to pay off her mortgage along with covering her closing costs.
While waiting at an office today, I couldn’t help but quietly start singing to the receptionist, “Here comes Peter Cottontail, a hoppin down the bunny trail….” I got her to laugh, but what the funniest part of it was, when I went to leave from my meeting and walking out, the receptionist said, “Joe! After hearing you sing that, it’s been rolling around in my mind ever since.” The lasting strength of the power of suggestion can be jaw-dropping at times don’t you think?
Someone asked today how rabbits, baby chicks, and eggs came to be associated with Easter. Well, for all your inquisitive minds, you can blame it on the Germans. Back in the 15th Century, the Germans started incorporating some of their pagan beliefs into their Christian Easter celebrations. Rapidly reproducing rabbits, chicks, and eggs were all signs of fertility, which in pagan times were part of their ushering in of Spring by invoking their pagan gods to bless them with bountiful harvests and many healthy offsprings from their barnyard animals. You’ve certainly heard the phrase, “They breed like rabbits.” Well again, you can blame it on those pagan German tribes.
“Here comes Peter Cottontail, a hoppin down the bunny trail. Hippity hopity, hippity hopity, Easter’s on it’s way….” Gotcha. Now you’re hooked!
