We didn’t get a frost last night which was a good thing, and ended up being pretty nice day out once our sun rose higher, but then when it became overcast, the chill returned. It was actually misting a little on my windshield as I was driving home. Let it come.
Part of my morning was taken up with the inspection of a few properties which the owner had asked me to give a broker’s price opinion on, so I met him out there to do a walk thru on them. One of them was vacant, but the others were occupied. I was careful to make good notes on them so when I begin my comparative valuations, I’ll be able to get as close to what they’ll sell for if he does decide to place them on the market.
I was exceptionally impressed by one of them which spoke of quality from the moment I entered. You really don’t find deeply-poured concrete basements in homes built back in the 1940’s, but today’s was an exception. I was the most impressed with its floor plan which was ahead of its time when built. In spite of there not being that much square-footage, its room placement was such that it seemed bigger. It reminded me a little bit of those charming cottage-style homes you’d find the Forest Park area.
After I finished-up, it was nearing lunchtime, so I stopped out to a drive-thru and grab a sandwich which I took back to my office, just so I could “doctor” it up before eating. I’m getting pretty good at re-skinning sandwiches to the point I could have my own little Dad’s Hamburgers joint where you’d get what you get, but always being fresh. Now that it’s been so very many years since that was in business just a door down from the back of my office, there’s not one sign of it ever being there except a few partially exposed footings. If you’d ever wonder what they were like, I’d say they were a-kin to today’s so-called “sliders”, except the gals that ran that take-away, had a very limited selection. I’m not sure if they even sold french fries. Back when I was young, that was the “go to” place if you were hungry and didn’t have a pocket-full of money. I thought they were good, except they were just a bit too generous for my taste with the salting of their meat. I can still smell them cooking on their griddle. Remember how our smell memory can take us quickly back to long-ago places?
One of my investor clients stopped in while complaining about how much our times have changed to where no matter how much he insists his exiting tenants leave his apartments and homes as clean as they were when they moved in, they continue to walk away thinking they’ll get their full deposits back. What I admire about him, is the filterless way in which he calls a spade a spade, and never any of that sickening candy-cane glossing-over. He said, “This last tenant who’d moved out, had the guts to call me wanting his deposit returned immediately, and I stopped him in his tracks by telling him my rentals are not extended-stay hotels where housekeeping is included in their rents.” I had to laugh at that line, but you can be sure I’ll be sharing it. Too funny.
I’m beginning to wonder if this “pigsty” living is North Iowa specific, or if it’s another pandemic infecting our Country. I’ll never be able to get my brain wrapped around the maintaining of such lifestyles, as I personally wouldn’t be able to have a good night’s sleep when living in such filth. I’m still of the belief more people are coming down with health issues due to the condition of their living quarters. One of the homes I was in just recently, was a good example of the layering of dirt, grease and grime. Of course the tenant had her monster wall-mounted television going full blast while I was there, and had her zaftig carriage comfortably parked in a recliner in front of it. Of all the hobbies I’ll someday take up, boob-tube watching will not be one of them.
I figured it time to put the word out again over those four remaining condo units over at Prairie Place on 1st. In spite of having three different buyers circling those larger two bedroom units, they’ve still not made their final decisions. I’m afraid two of the three will get what they want, and the third with be left a-wanting. I’ve already told them that if we do get a buyer on either of them, I’ll not be calling them, as they’ve had their chances. If there’s one marketing ploy I despise, is the inciting of a bidding war, as it always seems to cause long-lasting hard feelings, and most times, towards yours truly.
A lifetime native of our fair City stopped for a little chat about that idiotic newspaper article that was published in today’s “Glob”. After sharing our personal feelings about short-sighted decisions our “powers that be” have made over these past 40 years, I’m afraid if someone would take the time to do a chronology of the willful waste of our City’s taxpayers’ dollars, there’d be some-beyond angry residents beginning to vocalize.
Since I’ve known him long enough to consider him in possession of an upright character, I was compelled to give thanks for sharing his thoughts regarding those numerous dead-end money pits we were all pulled into. I soulfully said, “You don’t know how many times I’ve questioned my gut opinions when thinking I’ve not looked at the whole scheme of it all.” He smiled while replying, “You’re dead-on, and don’t think you’re alone because we’re part of this town’s silent majority.” What a relief.
There were a number of people we visited about, and one of them was the million dollar waster of money by the name of Carl Miller, who doesn’t even live in our State at the moment. Another one that came to mind, was that “poster child” who worked for one of the architects here who went on her “Holy Grail” mission of getting the votes out on that idiotic River City Renaissance project. Is she still living here? Absolutely not, as shortly after that forced ballot, she hop-scotched herself out to the East Coast. Before he left I wickedly said, “I’m not sure what name we should give these brainstormers, but I reckon it’ll be a toss-up between The Clan of the Cave Bears or The Posse of Dunces.
Tonight’s One-liner is: The very wise, can always be distinguished by their questions.