Friday, February 17, 2017

Daddy's Girl

I had breakfast with my 79 year old father yesterday. In a moment of vulnerability, I told him what Brother #1 and #2 have been urging me to tell him for the past 8 months. Our business is dying a slow painful death. Of course, the reason I hadn't told him up until now, is because he reacted the exact way I knew he would.

He scolded me, for I am really 11 years old.

My father--and please don't judge him, he is who he is--began to tell me all the things, in his mind, I had done wrong that caused our downfall. Of course, he knows absolutely nothing about our accidental business. The reason he knows little about it is because he believes to his very core that business owners are the enemy. We are greedy scum only looking out for ourselves. I grew up hearing versions of this. It is ingrained in who he is. I don't believe it. I accept he does.

Owning a business has been a conundrum for him. He is proud of me and he is astonished I would do such a horrible thing as participate in capitalism. So, the business failing in his mind is a relief. And it is also a reason to get on me about all the events I caused in the past fourteen years that brought me to this point. I stopped him twice, reminding him I did not want to hear what he had to say. There is nothing he can possibly add to what is going on in my life that will be the least bit productive. I also reminded him his response is the very reason he has been kept out of the information loop about what is going on with Marty and me.

It took three versions of the above as well as me reminding him I will be the one to pick his nursing home in order for him to stop talking. ("That's what happens when you don't hire a property management company and you have out of state rentals..." "But Dad, I had a property management company..." "Well maybe, but if you had managed them yourself, you wouldn't have had these problems..."--yes, this was really part of what was said). But eventually he allowed me to successfully change the subject and the rest of what he has to say about my mistakes he can relegate on my brothers. They have been warned.

Sunday, February 12, 2017


Thursday I wrote and sent three certified letters to the former property management company. I cc'd several people on them, including Diamond Jim, my Arizona Attorney and a couple of guests residing in my home. Not everyone was CC'd on every letter.

Because it was true, each letter started with the phrase:


The first two letters explained that the property management company was to release the security deposits to the former tenants immediately. There is a touch of irony here, as I was insisting on a former tenant's security deposit only a month ago. And that set of maddening conversations is ultimately what made them decide they didn't want to manage my homes any more. It also made me decide they were incompetent baboons who knew little about Alabama real estate law or their fiduciary responsibilities. I didn't want them managing my homes, but they beat me to the punch.

The third letter proved to me they knew even less about accounting principals than they knew about real estate. They have made a huge mistake on my 1099, which they submitted to the IRS. For those of you who aren't privy to 1099s, it is basically the document they submit that tells the IRS how much they paid out in rents to me for 2016. Their mistake is a doozy too. I only wish my rents were as high last year as they said they were.

Diamond Jim knows how to fix the situation and square it with the IRS on my end if these nincompoops don't bother to correct it. However, it is in their best interest to do so. Because if they don't, the Internal Revenue Service will flag them anyway. This is not a mistake they should overlook lightly.

Wednesday, February 08, 2017

Mrs. Fultondale

The guest in the home in Fultondale has finally gotten mad--as she should be. She is about to be homeless.

At first, she was gracious as can be. After all, she isn't paying a dime to me. But now the reality has set in. This week she called the bank to see about buying the house. She didn't go about it through the proper channels, instead she talked to someone who was obviously confused as to who this woman was. As a result, Mrs. Fultondale informed me that I was to immediately give the bank authorization to let her talk with them them about our situation. Of course, she would never have given me authorization to talk to a financial institution about her finances, but she didn't see it that way when I politely declined her request.

What I did tell her was if she wanted to purchase the home, call Kirby. He would walk her through the process before it was too late. My feeling is, it is probably too late.

Next, Mrs. Fultondale or one of the other Fultondales in the house realized something every person in this situation finally realizes. Where has my rent money gone if I am summarily being cast out of a home I am renting? I sent her a string of BS words that I threw together that sound official but have no bearing in reality. Fortunately she didn't ask for further explanation and instead said, "Ok, Gotcha." The true answer is complicated and legal. I would have told her to talk to my attorney, but I wasn't giving my attorney any more authorization to speak with Mrs. Fultondale than I was giving the bank. And frankly, Mrs. Fultondale truly did ask a fair question.

I also have a fair question for Mrs. Fultondale, who just happens to be one of my worst culprits in recent times of paying rent late. Remember all those times you didn't bother to pay the rent because you had other expenses come up that were more pressing? Like Christmas and birthdays? Remember all those times you thought it was no big deal if you got two or three months behind on the rent? Why should I have cared, right? What bad could possibly come from Mrs. Fultondale not bothering to pay her fair share?

Guess what? This is the bad that happens. It isn't all her fault. I certainly own most of the blame for the stupid choices that got us to this point. But she did help it along.

Tuesday, February 07, 2017

No Take Backs!

Bliz sagely pointed out that when the property management company realizes they accidentally gave me a deposit they feel they weren't supposed to, they might want it back.

Nope. not happening.

Monday, February 06, 2017

Victory Lap

If I am reading the financial statements correctly, and I believe I am, the bookkeeper at the property management company released the security deposit we were fighting about to me. This was the house with the ruined hardwood floors. This is the house where the tenants didn't mop up the water on the floor when it rained--which is exactly what I was told.

This turn of events is somewhat astonishing, given Flunky's last e-mail where he told me he spoke with "legal counsel" and that I had the "manipulated the circumstances to fulfill my reality" and other crap right before he fired me. However, Flunky, the team player he is, didn't cc his company's bookkeeper. I'm guessing his bookkeeper didn't have the crystal ball plugged in either because Flunky made it 100 percent clear I was wrong and never seeing that money.

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Mr. Waterford's Concerns

My guest at Waterford Lane is absolutely befuddled. I have told him to make himself at home. We have no lease.  No money is changing hands. I didn't expect this to be much of an issue, but he just can't wrap his head around this. I have received some sort of communication from him just about every day, with him looking for some sort of inconsistency in my message.

The poor man has asked me to put something "in writing" and settled for an e-mail where I told him the same thing I said over the phone and in text messages. He said he wanted assurances because he just didn't want the police knocking on his door. Fair enough. I am a white, out of state owner of a home in a place where race-tensions tend to be the absolute norm. He doesn't know me. Why should he trust me? Frankly, I am surprised he hasn't asked me to prove I am the owner of the property. That's probably tomorrow's conversation.

He says he will be leaving in a month or so. I can appreciate that too. I know of others who have been in his shoes who find that kind of predicament stressful. Will they be homeless in a week? My guess is his wife is flipping out and he calls me once for every 37 conversations the two of them have. Who can blame them? I am not sure I would want to stay and deal with someone else's crappy karma either.

Friday, February 03, 2017


The camera took 10 pounds off
this mound of paperwork.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, listening to an Ipod rotation of Pink Floyd, Eric Clapton, Toby Keith, Imagine Dragons and Chris Tomlin. To my side, was the mound of paperwork, which will eventually be Phase 1 of my taxes. Diamond Jim, my (hopefully) retiring CPA, has already called and answered a few questions about what I can call a capital improvement and what I can classify as a repair.

As I am doing this I am feeling somewhat nostalgic about the fact this blog started with a general gripe about tax season, and here I am again. Next year's taxes (hopefully) will not be as complicated. And tax season 2019 should be an absolute breeze--unless we buy a bunch of rental homes again somewhere like Racine Wisconsin or Walterboro South Carolina.

We won't. I promise.