Fear and Loathing in Real Estate

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Bearing that in mind, allow me to unfurl our tale thus far…

Last year, Mrs. Deviant got a big promotion from her dear Uncle E. This was and is a great thing. However, it meant moving to the Garden State. Leaving the five boroughs is certainly the yang to the promotion’s yin. C'est la guerre.

Putting the Deviant flat on the market was initially quite daunting. Having the value of one’s home determined by a Realtor and the market place has odd effects on the self-esteem. In the first week, offers below the asking price came in. Dejection followed. The Realtor advised to ignore and persevere. This was done until the third week. Then magic started to happen. Bids were received in excess of our asking price. After a modest bidding war, the flat went for 74% over what we originally paid for it only two years ago.

Never doubt the surreality of New York real estate.

Back in March, we began looking for a new place to hang our hats. Specific requirements were laid out...

A home within 40 minutes of Manhattan by train,
A driveway with garage for protection from the rain,
Within the new territory bestowed by Uncle E.,
Within one mile of a train station for Bourgeois D.,
No vinyl siding on the house,
“Three bedrooms minimum” said the spouse,
A good school district for our sweet child,
More than one bathroom, lest bowels get wild,
A small yard so not much to mow,
Hoping beyond hope the taxes are low.

You get the picture and I’ll quit while I’m ahead.

A budget was set and looking at the map, Glen Ridge and Montclair jumped out as excellent geographic options. We inquired about some listings and solicited the services of a Realtor in the area. On our first outing, we found a home that met all but one of our requirements. It was everything we wanted and the price was, to take liberty with the vernacular, redonkulous.

Long story short, we learned the price was set to bait competition. The goal was achieved. We were one of 8 bidders and were fourth down on the list. This imparted a lesson. One must judge what the house is worth, then what you can or will pay. The two often don’t meet.

Strike one behind us and we’re on to the next, whatever and wherever that may be. To date, we’ve seen over 50 homes. In the midst of all that viewing, we stumbled across a quaint “For Sale By Owner.” We made contact and scheduled a viewing. It was just down the street from the house we had just lost a bid on and was lovely in every way. Remember, this was our first look.

We left the viewing enamored but a bit stunned at the asking price. All the same, we were thinking this was the one. It was at the very top of our range, but we figured we could bid under by a certain amount and not risk offense. After over a week of stalling, the seller agreed to our price. That week did not sit well with us and foreshadowed what was to come.

The key issue for the seller was to close as soon as possible as he did not want to lose any more money on retaining the home. We were the epitome of efficiency and retained an attorney, set a closing date, negotiated a contract and solicited the services of a home inspector. We’re not mentioning the difficulties we had during the contract negotiations. Let’s just say that the seller’s terms suggested a sharp detachment from reality.

It got to the point that all the shenanigans were getting a bit much. So much so in fact, that our attorney even said as much. In short, the seller declared he would not fix anything in order to complete the sale of the home. We decided to wait for the home inspection as we were still smitten by the property. Love is a fickle thing. The home inspection proved this. In addition to asbestos insulated pipes and the discovery of a poorly attempted cover up of a cracked foundation, the home inspector told us that the detached garage which was obviously leaning but touted by the seller to be structurally braced and sound was termite-ridden and required immediate demolition.

The deal was dead. Instead of trying to get the seller to give us a discount or remedy any of the issues, we just walked. We’d had enough. It was an expensive lesson, but worth it as it probably saved us from years of the house leeching our finances to the point of destitution.

Strike two and we’re on to the next, only a block and a half away as fate would have it. We spent the next Saturday looking at another seven homes. The sixth house grabbed us and we decided what the place was worth, what we would offer and then how much above all that we were willing to shell out should it get competitive. Our Realtor prepared two bids, one low, one above asking in the event of either situation. We felt good about our prospects.

As it turns out, our feeling was dead on and then way off in that order. Bids on the house were due by 5:00 p.m. As of that time, we were one of only two and the higher of the two as history will reflect. Then the seller was informed of a desperate last minute bid well after 9:00 p.m. that same night. Unfair. Right? Tell us about it.

The late bid came in at $14K over our bid. The seller gave us the opportunity to match and she would agree to go with us. We decided that the house simply wasn’t worth that inflated price despite it still being within our range. A very responsible strike three taken in the name of reason and moderation. But we’re not out. All the same, we loathe that seller nearly as much as the “For Sale By Owner.”

So, with our closing just weeks away, you can say we have the fear. There is a contingency to stay with family and we’re not too worried about that. However, the quest to find the right house at the right price in the right place grows ever more perilous with each passing week. All that can be hoped for is fate and the market to provide. The physics of karma in this situation would suggest that fate is not without a sense of humor.

Real estate is kind and too too cruel.
A place of our own will be oh so cool.

We write letters

April 24, 2007

Joseph Chiossone, Postmaster
City Operation
United States Postal Service
1050 Forbell Street
Brooklyn, NY 11256

Postmaster Chiossone,

We are writing to inform you that the mail delivery service that operates out of your Fort Hamilton Station has failed repeatedly to deliver our mail in a timely fashion after the expiration of a hold order. Specifically regarding the hold order with the confirmation number WEH33940912, as of the writing of this letter late this afternoon, we have only now just received our mail dated from Monday, April 9 through Saturday, April 21 of 2007.

Earlier today, given the lack of service, we went to the Fort Hamilton Post Office to file complaint and get our mail. We spoke with the station manager, a woman named Diane. She informed us that the carrier serving our building, a Mr. Hui, must have “forgotten” to deliver our held mail and would surely deliver it today. We then asked that, since we were already there, could we just have it? She went to check and reported back that Mr. Hui had already left with our held mail. It goes without saying that we speculate our visit prompted the delivery. Only Mr. Hui can say for sure and we doubt he will.

The Hold Mail Service available through the USPS website states on the request confirmation in clear terms that:

For Security reasons, your carrier will leave only the mail that fits into your mail receptacle. Your carrier will leave a notification slip and return any excess mail to your local Post Office. If you choose to pick up your mail, you must present photo ID.

We did not receive any notification slip at any time prior and it is worth it to note that all of our mail from the hold period fit easily into our mailbox. Additionally, our incoming mail in the interim has been so little that the held mail could have fit easily into our mailbox on any day prior additional to what was delivered each day.

We find this service sub-par and unacceptable. Let us be clear. Our discontent has not been stirred by this one dereliction alone. Prior to this occasion, we’ve had nearly identical experiences utilizing this same service during the dates March 5th through the 10th of this year and November 28th through December 9th, 2006. On each occasion delivery was delayed by three business days or more. We have not determined if Mr. Hui was the mail carrier during those periods as well.

Outside of our complaints regarding the Hold Mail Service, there have been instances where we have received notice of delivery failure on signature required packages and the reason given was that the “door was locked.” Such notices are left in our mailbox, inside the cited locked door.

One last specific example from Monday, July 3, 2006 at approximately 12:30 p.m. our apartment was rung up by a Postal Service carrier to deliver a package. We buzzed the person in and assumed that they would leave the parcel by our mailbox. Upon going to retrieve our mail, we found no package but a delivery slip that gave notice an attempt was made and that a signature was required for release of the package. They had ample opportunity to inform us that a signature was required, but didn’t say anything to that effect. Frankly, we find this beyond lazy and/or extremely irresponsible.

At the very least, all of this does not speak well for the quality of service that people should associate with the USPS. We are not seeking compensation. However, it is our hope that you understand the problems reported and take steps to restore timely, competent service to this address and the greater Bay Ridge and Fort Hamilton areas.

Sincerely,

Mr. & Mrs. Bourgeois Deviant
Brooklyn, NY 11209

Big Apple to Big Easy

I write this to you, dear reader, from the Brooklyn bound R train to Bay Ridge. I just left the “From the Big Apple to the Big Easy” concert from New Orleans. It was quite something. Presumably, Sir Elton John and others helped to assemble a cavalcade of performers. Among those I saw: Lenny Kravits, Aaron Neville, Cindy Lauper, Paul Simon, Jimmy Buffett, Sir Elton and a bunch of others. The zenith of the evening, not for her performance, mind you, but for what she had to share by way of thought over the whole Katrina calamity was Bette Midler.

Yes. Bette Midler.

Ms. Midler cited the tragedy of it all and that global warming was a likely culprit. I will attempt an accurate quote here for the rest: “Then, I get a letter from the Republican Party saying that they appreciated my support of the Bush Administration during this trying time. And I wrote them back telling them to go fuck themselves.” She went on to bring the President Bushbot. It was not until she brought him up that the boos started emanating from the audience. She continued to (justifiably) chastise the Commander and thief and then acquiesced. “You know, I really shouldn’t say bad things about the President. He is a fan of mine. He came to one of my shows in the 70’s. I think his coke dealer got him the tickets.”

Bette Midler lambasting the President isn’t news and really, at the end of the day, doesn’t matter. What will matter is if some Republican shmuck sues her for libel and slander and/or defamation of character. Time will tell.

The most eloquent thing said this evening was by Mr. Elvis Costello. “Lets make sure the promises made, are kept.” Well put, Elvis, well put indeed.

(If anyone has the exact quote, please let me know so I can edit this.)

Sigur Rós. Good for what ails you.

As you may discern from a prior post, I have been a bit melancholy of late. So, before all that happened, I saw that Sigur Rós was coming to town. For those of you who don’t know, they are a hip little band from Iceland that has been around making really terrific ambient music. That is a gross generalization of what they do, but for now it serves me.

Trekking from Bay Ridge to the Upper West Side proved to be well worth the haul. For those of you who have never been to the Beacon Theatre, it is a sight to behold. I can only guess at its vintage. Probably 1920’s. It is well maintained and the sound is excellent. The Wife and I got there right on-time and took our position in the nosebleeds (which were still pretty darned good seats). Soon thereafter, the opening band, the Amina string quartet, took the stage. At first I wasn’t quite sure what to make of them, but they held my interest and they left the stage at the end of their set with a good opinion from me.

Like Sigur Rós, Amina’s sound kind of defies description. Both bands, despite different instrumentation and overall sounds, musically articulate an abstract landscape as if you were viewing a painting with your ears. Amina went from extremely ambient and atmospheric compositions to melodies that were nearly electronically poppy. One of the women even played the saw, which I love. They later joined the headliners on stage for several numbers throughout the show as an excellent accompaniment on a number of different instruments.

The opening and closing numbers were the only “performances” of the evening for Sigur Rós. By that, I mean to say that there was an element of theatricality and/or sense of a mise en scène. A white scrim hung before the band and interplay of lights, smoke and digital image projection interwove to generate equal aural and optical stimulation commensurate with the overall style of the band. It was simple yet powerful. An excellent prologue for all fans, virgin or veteran, and foreshadowed a good evening.

The rest of the performance was equally as strong but wholly different. It was solely about the music. They did have lights and video projection, but those peripherals were so subtle, they were only a gentle dash of spice enriching the overall flavor of the event. It just goes to show you, as with theatre or film, if a good story, or in this case music, is there, who needs lots of spectacle?

One element of both groups, but particularly in Sigur Rós’s case, was the electronic looping and effects that were used. Some fans of live music get put off when all the musicians’ music on stage is not ego ingenero but it just works for them. With all of the technology they have, they can achieve depths and layers to their music that I can only articulate as lush. Again, no one element of what they play or produce is astonishing, but the combination and manipulation therein touches genius levels regularly.

Closing the show was an aesthetically similar performance as the show opener. However, the melody was evocative of moving on and the potential of what lay ahead. Maybe it is where I am in life right now and the events going on around me, but I felt that this band captured my mood and lifted me out of it. Like a little therapy session, traveling from despair to optimism in the span of 90 minutes. It was the right show at the right time.

I had been speaking to a musician friend the night before about training to play music as a professional. He said that practicing (drums) was good, but you had to be able to really wail unimpeded by volume, time or space in order to get the conditioning you need. He said “Do you wanna see a guy who is solid for the sprint or for the marathon?” After seeing this show, there is no doubt that Sigur Rós are in it for the marathon.