THIS!!!

I've been saying this for the past year. Someone smarter than me put it into a nice format. Thought I'd share. But really: WE ARE NOT IN A BUBBLE.   

Writing Retreat Update

The first phase of my writing retreat is coming to an end. I originally was staying until Wednesday, heading home and going back on Saturday. Nope. I'm going home tomorrow early afternoon and heading back here Saturday until the end of the month. 

I've gotten a lot of edits done in my book. The two hardest chapters (my book is arranged in months) are early in the story and deal with a lot of trauma. I'm half-way through the last bit of trauma and probably have another ten hours to go with just this. But it isn't happening on this leg of my journey. 

When I get home I have a seller meeting to go to later in the week. It is one of those, "we are thinking about someday selling. But right now we don't know what we don't know. Please tell us everything," kind of meetings. But I need to prepare because I still have a job. 

Speaking of jobs, I heard today that New Boss has threatened Marty. There were no witnesses. Part of me would like to stay longer while Marty gets it under control. The other part wants to go home and do what I can to support whatever decision he's bound to make. As long as he makes a decision. 

Teamwork

Because I'm gone, I'm missing the daily drama of Marty's New Boss. Let's just say, one employee has vaguely threatened his last day is coming up. Another one is looking at retirement options and several others have spiffied up their resume. What I'm hearing is a corporate America nightmare, sprinkled with pandemic work-arounds and even as an outsider, I don't see this ending well. But I can't tell you for whom.

There have been whispers that there are human resource discussions and Marty's co-workers are looking up all sorts of employment law. And is it really a good idea to chastise a deaf employee, demanding in front of her co-workers that she should be "listening better?" Or how about a group e-mail, berating one of Marty's colleagues because the colleague tried to call New Boss to get an urgent question answered? According to the e-mail, New Boss doesn't want to be bothered on the phone. Or--my favorite--telling a Vice President in an all hands, company-wide meeting that teammate Larry Smith is insubordinate (which was news to Larry and all of his co-workers). Yep, we are talking about this level of insane. Marty's attitude is simply, he will be part of any coup, but because he is too vulnerable with layoffs, he doesn't want to be the one to start the uprising.

The theory I've bandied around is New Boss was brought on to dismantle the team. Marty has thrown this out to his colleagues, and, though a bit warped, it has gained some mileage.  

I am told also that every virtual staff meeting is now a marathon Indeed and Monster search for Marty and his teammates, all sending text messages back and forth, "Hey did you see Cactus Juice LLC., is hiring a person with your skill set?" "Really? No but I'm sending you this job requisition from Arizona Snow Cone, Inc., I thought you might like... I know someone who works there. Use my name." 

True Teamwork. 

Gone Writing

Lilly’s ranch is nestled on the North side of the Saguaro National Monument, in the foothills of some mountain west of Tucson. I am currently here. I left four days prior to my scheduled departure because Marty offered to handle Buckaroo’s morning commute (still at 5:45 a.m.; still a 60 mile round trip). I tried writing at home this week but was continually interrupted with requests for help finding someone’s red sock, or the dog, or the Amazon truck, or three other adults at home who all want to talk, or even a particularly maddening encounter with one of my offspring about a can of chicken. And the list goes on.

 Anyway, I am currently sitting in 115 degree weather—Tucson is not 10 degrees cooler, despite the rumors to the contrary--in a ranch house/Air BNB where the only gate to keep out the critters is the gate across the main driveway, closed at night so the javelina will play elsewhere. Apparently anything with small legs, or no legs at all has free rein of the three acres. Which brings up this interesting tid-bit: Lilly handed me a piece of plastic then told me to please open the hood of my car at night and place the piece-of-plastic motion-detector light underneath so the packrats will stay out of my car. Yep. Can do.

I finished the first draft of the latest Great American Novel on July 19, 2017. The next day my bonus mother of 30 years died suddenly and the emotional upheaval of dealing with her death has always been tied to “What if I hadn’t been so busy working on my story I could have called to see her that day?” (though I happen to know I would not have been allowed to) has sent me into a tail-spin.

Finally, I am ready to tackle my story. At this point, I want it out of my life. I have four or five others I’ve got outlines for and they are more pressing than this one, which I’ve lived with on and off for 10 years. I want to move on.

Currently, I have zero plans of moving away from my computer for the next several days—though I did bring a dress and found the local Catholic church. Plus, I posted on Insta where I was and I suspect a Tucson friend will be reaching out shortly to ask when I can see her. Oh yea, I guess I will be heading over to Lilly’s food truck on Monday, which will be somewhere in Tucson. Hopefully it won’t be 111 degrees. Otherwise, the gate is staying locked and I am writing.

 I am here on and off until further notice, though I am heading back to the Valley next week for a long weekend and to visit with my family (thank you dear friend who let me reschedule next week so I can see my father). If I’m not done, I will mosey on back and work again. Currently I have a few first readers lined up and I am thinking I should be ready to hand this over sometime around mid-July.  

There are no illusions of grandeur, I’m not thinking this is best-seller material. I’m thinking this project needs to be done. 

 

It Closed

We closed  yesterday. Contractually, it should have closed Monday. My client has a wee bit of a temper and was frustrated. I don't blame her. But as the messenger, I wish she could have found a better outlet for her anger.  

We didn't close on Monday because weeks ago the loan processor went on vacation and forgot to send the buyer's loan to underwriting before she left. This was caught last Wednesday. LAST WEDNESDAY!!!!

We didn't close on Monday because the buyer was supposed to wire $50,000 to title but the woman at the bank heard $15,000 and nobody on the buyer side thought to double-check this until after 2 p.m., which is after the wire cut-off. 

We almost didn't close yesterday because--though at the County normally takes about an hour to record--it took from 11 a.m. until 4:45 yesterday to get confirmation it recorded. The buyer's agent was saying things like, "You should call the escrow company and see what the hold-up is..." as if: 1) I hadn't already and 2) his side hadn't caused the above drama and I was supposed to fix it. 

The escrow company told me they had no idea what the hold-up was either and had someone with a very important title after their name was calling the County to figure out why this was happening. I thanked them profusely for hanging on and helping make this happen. My escrow officer said nice things like, "You are always so great to work with," indicating she too was sick of the buyer-side people in this sale. 

My client was calling and/or texting me every hour. I felt helpless. My client was asking, "why?" and I told her I wouldn't speculate on the hold-up. I understood she was frustrated. But me guessing wasn't going to make this happen. 

But it happened. All is good. The buyers have a lovely home. The sellers can move on with their life. And I can go write somewhere in the desert next week. 

Last Minute Drama

The week before closing is kind of a no-man's land around the Sunshine house. Everyone is on edge when the phone rings, wondering if it will be good news or news that requires Mom to sit by herself, beer in hand and breathe heavily before calling her client with an update that will make everyone's head explode. This past week has been no exception.

Currently, my listing is supposed to close today. Last week I found out there were a few hiccups and it doesn't appear that will be the case. The lender (I represent the seller) has been reaching out to me. I have continued to ask for updates and she's been relatively transparent--given she started by explaining her screw-up. She's answering questions. She is apologizing for the lunacy.  

The buyer's agent has also been reaching out to me. He is currently trying to get my client to sign an addendum moving the close of escrow date a week. I'm not having any of that. Of course the seller will agree to a slight change of plans and whatever that looks like it will be. But asking for a week!? 

When the buyer's agent asked why I said, "We don't need to string this along. Your lender says you need two days, not seven. Which is it?" Not to brag, my I think the buyer's agent is afraid of me. 

"I just want to be sure..." He replied. I want to be sure too. And I'm sure if this is strung out for a week, nobody on the buying side will feel the need to make this happen sooner. This is their fire drill, let them act like its a fire drill.  

Using my Big Girl Designated Broker Voice (tm) I said, "I am sure your client wants the house. So, let's make it two days." 

For the seller's part, they are not happy. Fortunately, I have thick skin and my hearing isn't as good as it used to be. That comes in handy when the yelling starts, which it did.  

I know for a fact the sellers will extend this a week or even two if necessary, but it isn't necessary. What IS necessary is for the loan officer to do her job, the buyers to do whatever it is they need to do and the buyer's agent to send me an addendum for a Wednesday (or sooner) close. 

It Fell From the Sky

Marty has been nudging me to go away for a few days and write. I have a sale going on right now, so I can't leave just yet. But I have free time in a few weeks. Plus, it feels frivolous to spend family money to stay in an Air BNB by myself for a few days writing my heart out while my family is at home. 

Earlier this week, after Marty once again brought this up, I told him if the right opportunity fell from the sky, I'd consider going. I already have one trip to visit Mrs. Meadows planned for July and another to see Bliz in October, so the right opportunity had to be darn cheap and come with seclusion and internet. 

Well now, my friend Lilly is selling her desert retreat. It is currently empty. She hasn't used it as an Air BNB since COVID hit. She is charging me the cost of the utilities--which she swears isn't much. I have Marty's blessing. He's promising to cook me as much as I want to bring with me. As long as I promise to go. And write.  

I will just hope the critters are also on vacation during that time. 

June's Grievance Committee

Last week the Grievances Committee all got together to decide the fate of a few folks. I love this group. Imagine if you will a bunch of contract and code of ethics nerds sitting around discussing the difference between po-tay-to and po-tah-to. Oh... the fun times we have! 

Anyway, we had a few cases this month. 

I would like to go on record as saying if you are a buyer and you send a code of ethics complaint against an agent saying the agent promised you two dozen cookies (or something else--anything else) as a housewarming gift but the agent didn't deliver. That is not a code of ethics violation. 

Can we please just agree on that? Actually, the committee did. 

We also agreed the buyer who had a complaint that his agent didn't serve him well needed to go to the High Inquisitor Squad. That was a lively discussion and I got to peer review it. Fortunately, it wasn't 1,200 pages.    

And finally, the agent who sent out print advertising of someone else's listing passing it off as his own, will be talking to the High Inquisitor Squad. So will his broker who is to expected to approve all advertising before it is sent out and probably didn't even know his agent did that. 

Agent Hunting

Lilly let me help her find a real estate agent. I posted on the super-secret real estate forum on Facebook, figuring someone from Tucson might want to jump at the chance to sell a half-million dollar horse property. What I got were a bunch folks who said, "I can." and then did not provide any way whatsoever for me to contact them. 

When I was discussing the overall lack of contact information at dinner, Polly asked if I had checked Facebook Messaging. Nope. I hate Facebook. I didn't even think of doing that. It didn't matter, of the people who replied, jumping up and down and saying they could help, only two of the several actually messaged me. 

Of the two, I did ask them to call. Both did. One guy was hungry. He and I had a lengthy discussion on what he could do to market this home (he looked up the old listing) and told me about the area and how to best find a buyer. In this market, fogging a mirror, not advertising door locks and critters at the house would be a start. He knew Tucson. He and I were able to talk shop in such a way that I could tell he was on the top of his game. He sent me a text telling me he would give me a referral and thanking me for considering him. 

Agent number two basically said, "Have her call me if she's interested." 

Did I mention this was a half-million dollar house?  

I also found a third agent through a friend of a friend. This agent has been selling as long as I had. She said a few of the right things as well, but she also told me she could take it or leave it. I told Lilly about her too. Lilly said, "I know her. She's semi-retired." 

Yea. She acted like it. 

Hopefully Agent One will work out. 

You Lost Me at "Critters"

Lilly called me. She lives out of town. She wanted to fire her agent*. How could she do this? 

I walked her through the process, but first, I asked to see the listing. After all, how could a house not sell in this crazy market? After sending me the listing, I'm getting a pretty good idea why there were so few showings. Nowhere in the listing does it talk about the gorgeous kitchen or other internal features. It doesn't mention the fact it is horse property or that it is nestled next to the mountains in Southern Arizona. Instead, the listing has this bit of prose: 

Desert Sanctuary 2,506 SQFT home with 3-4BD/2BA on 3 acres featuring a home that has been successfully used as an Airbnb for the past few years. 5 Smart-lock doors to the outside, both family rooms have a fireplace. The home is set up to allow multiple families to enjoy this desert oasis. Plenty of parking for vehicles. Sturdy horse fence surrounds property. Two swinging gates for entry & to keep out critters. Water & Electricity in 2 out-buildings. Masonry stucco with covered back porch & separate laundry room with storage. No carpets. Roof recently coated; 4 years remain on termite warranty. Solar sensor lights surround exterior of home. Dividable land. You can see the stars and hear the desert music of birds and animals in this lovely setting. 

Incidentally, as a buyer, if I see "critters," there is no way I'm stepping foot on the land. And to be fair, unless it is a yurt, can we all safely assume there are locks? 

*I will not be taking this listing. She had made up her mind to fire the agent long before she called me. I only told her what it would entail and pointed her towards her contract with the brokerage.  

Win-Win-Win

 I'm told that John's listing is closing today. Now then, this message is from my brother who has it on good authority that John (probably) didn't do anything to sabotage the sale. 

Last week I saw Luke and asked if he and I were still friends. The man looked straight at me, and said, "At this moment, Yes. Barely." I countered with the point I had told him upfront what he was in for. "Ok, you did, but I didn't believe you," he finally admitted. Incidentally, if you are looking for some great conspiracy research and feel like staying up all night wondering what this world is coming to, hit Luke or me up. Thanks to John, we can set you in the right direction.  

Anyway, if John's home closes today (still marked as under contract in the MLS and I'm afraid to call anyone and ask), I get about $500 for my trouble. St. Luke, the agent, gets a lot more for his trouble. And John will be able to close this chapter in his life.  

My Broker Pal Sally

I met with my Broker-Pal, Sally yesterday for a quick bite to eat. She's been doing a whirlwind of business and I was pleased she spared an hour. I am not doing a whirlwind of business and had all the time in the world. 

It is fun to chat about the market and we certainly swapped our own war stories. Plus, Sally has a listing coming up that might be a good match for an investor client of mine. She's going to get me the info and maybe we can make this happen long before the house is slated to go on the market. That's how the real estate world is working right now. 

We also discussed my on-again, off-again job search and I explained I've already made more money in real estate this year than anything I was thinking of applying for. Plus, I kind of like being my own boss more than I like conforming to some other's rules. Now then, that all goes out the window if Marty's situation turns. But, that's for another post. 

As always, Sally and I parted ways with another lunch date scheduled next month and a smile on my face that hopefully will last that long. Sally is one of the biggest bright spots of my real estate life.  

Connection

 One of the aspects of what my business consists of is connection. Who you know. 

The other day, an agent called me out of the blue. She is selling a home right down the street from my listing. What could I tell her to justify the outrageous price her client wants for his home? I couldn't. I didn't. But I talked to her for a few as she told me what her client wants to accomplish. And then I had a really strange idea. 

Remember the agent who submitted a sloppy offer and told me he was "backing out of the deal?" The same deal he was never part of to begin with? Well, I reached out to him. You see, he specifically told me he NEEDED to be in that neighborhood where my listing happened to be. That didn't change my seller's opinion of his offer. But those words tap danced in my head as I talked to the agent about her new listing. 

Well now, I put the two in touch with each other. What he needs and what the agent says the seller needs for that listing are pretty spot on. Perhaps they can work something out. 

By the way, fun fact, the two agents above work for the exact same brokerage out of Goodyear. Yet, they didn't know each other. 

Love Letters

There was a time I suggested buyers to write love letters if the situation arose. In fact, one client of mine got a screaming deal on a house in Scottsdale with such letter. But now, I've had  a change of heart.

In my industry, a "love letter," is a letter from the buyer to the seller telling the seller why the buyer just loves the home. In a super-competitive market, letting the seller know something personal about the buyer might be a nice edge to beat out the other five offers. In a not-so super competitive market, letting the seller know something personal about the buyer might score the buyer a lower price.

Love Letters go something like this: 

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Seller, we are a family of four, lovely people who have done all these things to make the dream of owning home a reality. Your home is everything we ever wanted. A bit about ourselves. Howard, who has retired from the military, has found the cure for brain cancer. Mary stays at home and raises our twin daughters Prudence and Temperance. In her spare time Mary grows herbs and volunteers at the local woman's shelter. Your home is perfect for us because the back yard will make a beautiful garden and the woman's shelter is within a mile of Prudence and Temperance's school. We grew up in this neighborhood and want to be close to our family, as our parents are in their 90s and need our care. We love your red wallpaper and green carpet and would keep it just this way in your honor and because Christmas is our favorite holiday. If you see fit, Mr. and Mrs. Seller, please consider our offer over the other ones. We will treat this home with tender loving care and cherish it for the rest of our lives. Thank you, The Buyers." 

I don't let buyers provide love letters to my sellers any more. It is a dangerous practice in this woke and triggered day and age. Fair housing violations come from the hurt feelings of the soon to be homeless who lost out to 12 other offers (examples: the buyer wrote a letter and the seller allegedly discriminated when they found out the buyer was a minority... the sellers allegedly discriminated because they didn't like the church the buyer mentioned... the sellers allegedly discriminated because the buyer's family was too big, and the list goes on). 

On my last two listings I specifically told my sellers not to allow for this practice. So, until we can all get along and play nice with others, it is probably best we stop the love letter practice and just stick within the confines of the contract.

Stay Where You Are. Chill Out and Don't Move.

There are currently 3,280 single family homes for sale in Maricopa and Pinal County. 

If you take out the ones missing roofs or the listings where the agent writes something along the lines of, "once you build the house it could be a 3 bedroom, 2 bath dream home," (27th Avenue and Buckeye), the least expensive and intact home I found in the Phoenix metro area was for sale for $205,000 in Sun City on Alabama Avenue--which, let's face it, is never a good sign.