When Things Don’t Go According to Plan
It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.
The map of life has more than a few detours that could so aptly be described.
Whether it’s us looking at ourselves, at others or others at us, the prism through which we view distorts, distends and distinguishes. And sometimes it wasn’t supposed to happen that way.
I had just such a moment yesterday. Look, I am the first to admit that I’m not going to build my own house. I know my limitations. But basic repairs aren’t too much for me to handle. And with this in mind I shimmied under the kitchen sink yesterday to chase the demon of a pesky leak.
Things were going well enough until that fateful final turn of a connector from a shut off valve that indeed was shut off. But the valve evidently didn’t get the memo. And so instead of being shut off it simply spat cruelly like one of the malfeasant creatures who sought to harm Harry Potter. But rather than venom this hideous enemy spewed terribly hot water at a pace rapid enough to make my kitchen a wading pool in a matter of seconds.
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A Cardinals’ Win and a Shift of How I View Things
Disappointment.
Things don’t go the way you want them to. I’m not talking cataclysm, catastrophe or that which is colossal. I’m talking the more mundane. Like when you don’t get an invitation, or the pair of pants you wanted to wear are incontrovertibly in the laundry, the North Shore home you liked goes under contract after a price reduction.
Or like when the Cardinals win the World Series. Blah.
Years ago I attended the University of Illinois in Urbana Champaign. The experience was tremendous, truly shaping me into something resembling the man I am today. But the colors would have inspired a tragic psychic split in even the most non-aesthetic sort. We had the school’s Orange and Blue (to which we were loyal, according to the school song). Not the most meaningful nor pleasing palette.
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Delayed Gratification and Seasoning the Soup . Selling a Chicago Home
A few weeks ago my five on a scale of five wife presented to me a radically wonderful birthday gift – the iPad 2. Oh wonder of wonders and miracles of miracles. Me gusta mucho and all of that.
But even upon receiving this most honorable gift which I gleefully anticipated integrating into my savant Chicago real estate practice I delayed opening the box for an interminable length of time as I deigned to figure out if the 16 GB device in hand that would tether to my Verizon iPhone was the whole ball of wax.
My google efforts and online investigation reached the same conclusion that the apple guy had presented to my wife – this is the way to go.
And so this is the way I do go, with this brilliant device upon which I now type linked to the Starbucks wifi at the Plaza del Lago in Wilmette, squeezing the toothpaste tube of work-related creativity before heading over to pick up the boys from Baker.
Waiting to open my brand new toy, the iPad, is one of two things (and likely both). On the one hand it is delayed gratification. On the other is an O to the C to the D, crossing all the t’s and dotting all the i’s before committing myself to the opened package as would any obsessive compulsive.
Of course I jest. I watch enough Bravo and TLC and Oprah to know that I am not OCD. But to a large extent I am DG (delayed gratificant). Whatever the reason, call it upbringing, common sense, fear or being a recovering Catholic I endorse planning and pursuing action steps to make progress toward achieving goals.
But it wasn’t always this way for me. Much like my four and six year old boys I liked sating my cravings pretty much as they occurred. Well into my 30s, in fact. But then I had an epiphany. Whether it was indigestion from swilling 8 of 12 cans of Coke in a 2 hour period or blemishes that occurred when fast forwarding 3 oversized Hershey bars down my hatch, a gnawing dissatisfaction arose that apparently could only be addressed by tip-toeing forth down the bramble path of the Delayed Gratificant.
In other words, just because I want it doesn’t mean a) that I am going to get it or b) that I am going to get it now, or c) that I am going to stuff my snout with it like the proverbial greedy ghost in Buddhist myth whose hungers can never be slaked.
Being a Chicago and North Shore real estate professional offers an interesting opportunity to practice the principles of the delayed gratificant in all of my affairs, especially my professional ones. As you might expect, when folks list their Chicago or North Shore single family or condo, they want results. And they want them quickly.
And while results may come quickly, what I know to be true is that results will come only after certain specific steps are taken. And even after all the steps are taken, all the right steps to market the property and propel it before the online house buying public, sometimes the results we want to occur so quickly happen anything but.
And so the need to be a delayed gratificant. And the need to assist my clients understand the nature of the Chicago real estate market and the importance of their too being delayed gratificants. Otherwise they will go insane as we wait for showing requests, fret about inactivity, and yearn for a higher price than the market likely will yield.
And all of this is before we get an offer, await inspection results, and experience ever increasing levels of irritiation with successive mortgage contingency extension requests never knowing for sure until the closing if there will be a closing.
Buying or selling a home is a highly emotive and deeply personal endeavor. But it also is fundamentally a business decision. There are financial ramifications, a reliance on marketing and effective use of current technologies including social media to trigger consumer attraction and action, and the core is occupied by negotiation.
If you’ve ever made soup you know flavors are layered, mingling, dancing and giggling. If you rush to introduce flavors, you ruin the soup. Selling a home, pretty much the same thing. Layer upon layer we aggregate our seasoning, our marketing, imprinting our will on the commodity that is the home for sale.
And as important we ingrain in ourselves an attitude of patience, becoming the delayed gratificant to facilitate the process to emerge and unfold. At this point I urge all of you to observe Mr. Miyagi as he teaches Daniel-san in The Karate Kid.
Fade to black.
A Bucktown Home that’s Not For Sale (Really)
Like many Chicago real estate brokers I am more often out and about than I am behind a desk. With the advent of mobile technology I spend most of my day on the road, meeting buyers and sellers, going online to market my listings and wearing a sandwich board in between that touts my impeccable real estate services.
Earlier today, though, I was at the Lincoln Park office of my @properties brokerage for a meeting and I decided to arrange showings for my clients Grey and Annie who asked to view a few Bucktown and Wicker Park single family homes Wednesday afternoon.
No problem I figured – what could stand in our way? Middle of the week, late afternoon, and sellers doing everything they can to accommodate buyers in this buyer’s market. Sure enough the yeses came back. First one, then two and then three agents confirmed our requests. But then came number four.
Evidently number four couldn’t be bothered. From what the assistant to the listing Realtor said that’s why they have open houses. The poor sellers have had so many showings that they try to smoosh all the showings into a two-hour Sunday segment.
How’s that working out for you? Still on the market. Still unsold. And yet you want to thumb your nose at my clients who are seeing the place literally next store, like your online pictures and want to see your home with the intention of possibly buying it.
What gives? Fortunately our staff seller psychologist, Dr. Peachy Von Stickershaach, was on the premises after I got the rejection call and he helped me understand the nuances of the no. According to Peachy “The sellers are not really sellers in this instance, they are simply reverse voyeurs.”
“Meaning?”, I said.
To which Peach responded, “Rather than peeking at the lives of others either online, in literature, in person or via stealthful means they invite others to view their lives online. But for some reason, likely rejection in another real estate transaction, reverse voyeurs draw the line at allowing actual showings of their residence.”
“Really?”, I asked Peachy. “But why the open houses?”
In the inimitable manner in which he responds to all questions with an accent that is possibly Brazilian, maybe Swiss and definitely not an Irish brogue, Peachy said, “The open house is a declining reverse metaphor in which the reverse voyeur turns the idea of ‘open’ on its ear when in actuality he is truly closing the door.”
“Wow,” I told Peachy. “Is there any way around that?”
To which Peachy said, “So long as reverse voyeurism is untreated there really is no way around it. And the only way to treat it is to not pay attention to it.”
“Which means don’t try to see the listing?”
“Exactly,” said the good doctor.
“So in a sense when these folks tell us no they are self medicating to treat their reverse voyeurism?”
The doctor paused a moment and with a grin said, “I think that’s right.”
Glad our inability to see the Bucktown home on Wabansia that my clients wanted to see is helping the sellers get the help they need. Too bad, though, that this house that is listed for sale in the MLS is not really for sale.
A Good Team is a Great Idea – Buying a Home in Chicago
Had a weird one Friday. My clients were closing on the purchase of a South Loop townhome. And for the first time in more than ten years of being a Chicago real estate yenta the selling side of the closing table at Chicago Title sat empty.
It was, as they say in the hallowed halls, crickets. Actually, I don’t know who in the Chicago real estate community says that, but crickets is about the noise level emanating from the chairs that cushioned no gluteals.That is until the lawyer for the selling side decided to pick up the phone from wherever he was and speak through self-same gluteals.
Ah, few things less satisfying than a lawyer opting to speak through his derriere. But that’s what happened. Bottom line, bottom speaking as this chap did wouldn’t have been so bad except that he did it for such an extended period of time. How long? The closing started at 12.30. The closing ended at a few minutes shy of 7pm.
God, grant me the serenity…
Now there may be certain things that necessitate closings to stall for so long. None of those things, though, were in play yesterday. Instead we had a bathtub bubble blower who failed to provide a survey as stipulated in the contract (actually, every contract in Chicago). And like Wimpy telling Popeye that he will gladly pay us Tuesday for a hamburger that we provide to him today, this attorney tried to assuage our concerns about the lack of a survey by saying the sellers had one in the back of a moving truck and they would be glad to give it to us in the next few days. The survey, from 1999, had as much heft as a used tissue and would place the buyers at complete risk in case of any encroachments that might have occurred since the ’99 survey was done.
First things first, in real estate transactions I am not my clients’ attorney. I am their Realtor, assisting them to see the landscape of possibilities with respect to their search parameters related to homes in Chicago and the North Shore. And on the basis of location, type of property, price point and size I help my clients find what they tell me they want to find. And then I diligently work to ensure we get the best deal. But getting the best price isn’t the end of my job.
Buying a new home is an emotional exercise. It is also necessarily a team effort with my buying clients having their overall interests served not only by me but also by an attorney, a home inspector, and a mortgage broker. A smart and professional team ensures that our clients have the fullest and most possible advocacy.
Mind you, we don’t bank on something going wrong. But we work assertively and aggressively to proactively preserve and protect our clients’ interests. And so the home inspection is conducted to edify the buyer of the home he is purchasing. If the inspection is an unholy mess the buyer, in consultation with legal counsel, will determine whether the deal lives or dies. The lawyer also works closely with the mortgage broker related to funding contingency periods.
In essence, a good lawyer is the same as Gary Cooper showing up in the Western wearing the good guy’s white hat, ready to stare down anybody looking to bully, badger or BS her client. And that’s just what our attorney, Dina DeLaurentis, did yesterday and every other day she represents a buyer or seller.
The home buying equation is pretty straightforward. We want to get what we think we are buying. That’s so simple it sounds like early Woody Allen or Marx Brothers. But somehow from the attorney review period the selling attorney lost sight of what his clients agreed to and tried to rewrite the terms of agreement to the disadvantage of my clients. The absurd beauty of this misguided hero was the bombastic manner he adopted to fall woefully short of his goal.
To cut to the chase what the sellers got for their shilling, stalling and screaming (by their attorney) was an inability to close on the home they intended to purchase with the proceeds from the town home sale. It took six and a half hours for us, but our funds transmitted, we got the terms that we had to demand because of the other attorney’s obduracy, and we got the keys to go home while the sellers had to go find a hotel room.
Funny thing, after everything was said and done one thing remained the same – the chair on the selling side of the table was still empty.
