Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Quotes of the Year

Honorable Mention...

"Please tell me it is a homosexual, Jewish, Bedouin couple."

--Carolsue's reply when I told her last October, I selected a renter for the Leeds home.

Runner Up...

"It is because all of our other bills are due on the same day as rent."

--One of my more misguided tenants explaining to me last February why she just couldn't pay the rent. She has since recanted and straightened up.


And the Winner Is...

"Whatever you do, don't read your financials unless you are sitting down. It might be a good idea not to have sharp objects around either."

-- My accountant, during our conversation about the year's profit-loss statements

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Been There, Done That, Burned the T-Shirt

I am just not in the mood for head games. Heather wrote me yesterday and said:

That sounds good and I am glad those things have been fixed. As far as the deck goes there is really no need for a drawing as I was just planning on building a deck a little bit larger than the one that is already there just sturdier. If you need a drawing I can do that but It would just be the same deck that is there but better. I would treat the would also so that it would not rot and would last a lot longer. As far as the lease goes we have already filled it out were just waiting on you comment about the improvements before we sent it to you.


First of all, I still haven't received the lease. No biggie. I probably will, but at this point, I don't care if I do or not. Carolsue is ready to go out there and show it again.

Anyone I get in that house will be better than the people who lived there before. What gets me is that Heather readily admits she was holding my lease hostage. She has already proven she is trouble. I will treat her as trouble. I have a few other tenants I treat as trouble and they fall in line--but that is for another blog.

Second, I have no illusions she is putting in a new deck. I understand she is young and idealistic. But, come on! This is a major undertaking. While I appreciate Heather's sense of ownership, there is nothing wrong with this deck. So insulting the home by saying her deck would be "better" isn't very endearing.

It is very common for potential tenants to pick at things before they move in. My experience is I never hear a peep from them once they have unpack, other than a once a month check. At that point, they have gotten their grievances out of the way. They feel they have won in the landlord-tenant game. Truthfully, I keep score. And, ultimately, I will win.

Marty Sunshine to the Rescue

Marty Sunshine sweetly pointed out that if we had run our company like a hobby this past year we would be bankrupt. Instead, we ran it like a business, which kept us adrift.

Marty also pointed out that all of my tenants who left this year were long-term tenants, living in the homes for more than two years. So, it isn't like they started as trouble (well, most of them didn't start that way).

Monday, December 29, 2008

Mind Games

I wasn't in a foul mood until I got to the PO Box today. It contained two items. Legal Eagle's latest bill and a sweet note and receipt for rat removal from Ms. Betty. The sweet note wasn't the issue.

The mailbox was missing two checks that had been promised to me. Though it is never a good idea to call people when you are seriously annoyed, it sure felt good to rant to their voice mail. Neither of these late tenant issues were much of a shock.

One of these particular tenants I had been presuming I would be kicking out sooner or later. But, I was letting her limp along until I had the money to pay for repairs. So much for that.

But, what I got next blew me away. I got a call from the wife of the young couple I agreed to rent out the house in Moody to. So far, I haven't gotten a lease, but a promise that they would be giving Carolsue the move-in money (and presumably the lease) on Wednesday.

Heather called to give me a laundry list of all the things that are wrong with the house that she wanted fixed before move-in (on Jan. 1). They included doors which had once been broken--and are now patched and repainted. You can see the patch if you stand just right in the hallway and shine a flashlight. Or, if you saw the holes in the door before they were repaired and painted--which they did because they looked in the windows a few weeks ago.

The list also included a few other minor things that can be done after move-in such as the gutters swept and a hole in the fence. Also, there is a vent that needs to be cleaned and pine needles on the roof that need to be swept up. I can take care of the pine needles no problem: wait for the next gust of wind.

She also included would I be willing to allow her to extend the back deck for her own enjoyment. Of course, she was willing to do the work but wanted me to pay for the supplies. Let me get this straight: she wants to extend the back deck while living in this house for one year of her life?

Did I mention she hasn't given me the lease?

Heather isn't the first renter to play this game. I once had someone tell me the carpets were filthy and wanted a deduction on the rent because of this. However, I faxed that tenant the receipt for the carpet cleaning and she shut up.

It isn't that I am unwilling to make these fixes, it is that she is holding my lease hostage until I agree to put in new doors. I don't play that game. The doors are functional. They are repaired. I am not thrilled there were holes in them. If I had the capital, I would have had them replaced. But seriously, she is living there a year!

Later I e-mailed Heather and told her she could take care of the minor things. The doors were functional and repaired so she would have to live with them. And, I would have to see the plans for the new and improved deck before I agreed on any capital expenditures. Oh, and I haven't seen the lease yet from her. So, let me know if she was going to rent out the house or not, because I have others who are very interested.

And, my guess is the others I talked to this weekend don't give a fig about the doors.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Annual Meeting

I am a corporation. Because of this particular distinction, I am required to have annual meetings. On a brighter day, my CPA would suggest Marty Sunshine (the other board member) and I go somewhere for a romantic getaway and have our annual meeting.

This isn't very practical for a variety of reasons. First, I have two young children and my pool of babysitters I trust for overnight babysitting is pretty limited. Second, Marty's idea of a romantic getaway involves a giant mouse and a monorail. Though one year we did have our annual meeting on the beach of North Captiva Island, Florida with the kids making sand castles as we went over our notes.

Our annual meeting this year started today during our drive to Tucson. The main topic was predictable: what do we need to grow the business? Answer: Raise capital. Yep, I will get right on that.

Ironically that was the main topic last year. Last year's solution was a business plan, a power suit (complete with panty hose) and meetings with business consultants and SEC attorneys in Birmingham last January. A lot of good that did me. Perhaps if the Birmingham economy hadn't tanked this past year, things would be different. Now, I am a year wiser and looking for different solutions.

This particular topic was tabled after a long, audible sigh from me. We have a few ideas we have been bandying around but are stuck on the execution. These are things we both need to talk to those smarter than us. Doable-but not during a two hour drive to visit the in-laws.

Our other major agenda item was more interesting. We listened to an audio CD called "Thou Shall Prosper" by Daniel Lapin. We got to hear a portion of the first CD with only a frequent interruption of "are we there yet"/"I'm hungry"/"stop touching me" from the back seat.

For now, we have adjourned with promises of discussing the first action item later this week over Mexican food with the kids in safe care of a babysitter.

Merry Christmas to Me

I just rented out the house in Moody. A nice young couple. The wife is a student. The husband is a Marine reserevist and a police officer. These are the folks that called me weeks ago. What a great day!

Friday, December 26, 2008

Motivation

I have been looking for solutions to keep us afloat. I should say, we aren't drowning. But this piece of driftwood in the middle of the ocean is starting to get damn uncomfortable.

Mr. Partner has some family issues going on right now and I don't want to bug him with pesky little things like the status of our company. So, he isn't included in the latest. He will be soon. He likes his financial statements.

Our money issues really stem back to this summer. A lot of our financial issues are related to carrying so many homes and, well, lawyer fees. Everyone is getting paid. Just slowly. Fortunately, nobody is jumping up and down screaming. They are patiently waiting. But I wouldn't dare call the plumber right now, knowing I owe him for a hot water heater.

One of the things I have really liked about what we do is that--until the past few months--we are a cash-based business. That is, the only credit we have is mortgages. If we buy something at Home Depot, it is paid off at the end of the month. Carrying a balance for a hard-working plumber (and probably the only plumber in Birmingham I can stand) really bugs me. He is a small business too.

I have seen our company at its worst. We aren't there right now. We are in the disaster recovery phase. And, though I hate writing this, any new major disaster will probably cause a bigger mess than this summer. I am banking on everything going right more or less.

Last summer we sold a home and with the profits, we had the money to cover a minor disaster or two. Now we just have experience. I haven't been offered a financial bailout. That's ok. I am motivated by the fact I just don't want to fail.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

By the Numbers

For 2008:

7 - number of vacant rental homes this year
4 - number of trips to Birmingham
3 - number of Alabama attorneys currently in my life
8 - number of handymen/women I employed this year
27 - number of Sundays I ran ads in the paper for vacant homes
77 - number of homes Jack and I checked out this past year on my four trips
12 - number of homes Jack and I both really, really liked
1 - number of rental homes I purchased this year
4 - number of breakfasts with my CPA (ok, we talked business, but it was mainly social)
5 - number of face-to-face meetings with Mr. Partner
1 - number of face-to-face meetings with Bliz
1 - number of times Trusted's dog bit me
5 - number of homes with plumbing problems
3 - number of homes with electrical problems
5 - number of people I had mowing lawns for me this year
4 - number of homes with heating/air conditioning issues
7 - number of tenants I didn't have any major issues with this year
3 - number of insurance adjusters I dealt with on Wayward's home
2 - number of process servers I employ
4 - number of different locksmiths I employed
3 - number of times the rental car agent at the Birmingham airport upgraded me from a mid-sized car to a Saturn Outlook during my visits to Birmingham
3 - number of people in Birmingham I can talk baseball with
4 - number of people in Birmingham who genuinely care if I am an Alabama fan and would hold it against me if I uttered "Auburn University" in their presence. Um... Roll Tide!
5 - number of topics Legal Eagle has advised me not to discuss on my blog.

Monday, December 22, 2008

How Ironic This Happened In Leeds

Please understand, I mean this in the nicest way. If Ms. Betty didn't call me at least once a week, I would send out a search party. She has been renting the home in Leeds from me since November 5. In the past two months, she has probably spent more on long distance charges than she has on groceries.

Ms. Betty is as sweet as can be. However I have noticed a few glaring similarities between her and Mr. Smith--that is, she calls A LOT and has sent me pictures of her kids. I am hoping that will be where the similarities stop. I figure the phone calls are more related to an insecurity complex, with me, being an authority figure for her, and Ms. Betty needing some sort of validation. That is a pretty wordy way of saying she just wants me to like her.

When she called Sunday night, I wasn't surprised. After all, she was overdue for a check in. Usually her calls are inane, with a long drawn-out story of something that leads to an innocuous question. For example: her sister's next door neighbor's roommate's ex-brother-in-law was going out of town for the weekend and had absolutely nowhere to store his motorcycle/turtle/Uzi and would I mind terribly if the particular item would be stored with them for the weekend?

She would then assure me it would be gone Monday morning. And, after I said yes, she would ask if I was sure. We then go through the "are you sure" thing a couple of times before I gave a deep sigh suggesting if she asks one more time I may change my mind. That kind of thing.

Sunday night Ms. Betty wasn't calling for anything along those lines. She was calling to tell me she found a rat in her kitchen. At first I thought she meant one of the neighbors was in her home. However, after some clarification I discovered she meant the four legged kind.

Before I started this whole landlord in Birmingham thing, that would have completely freaked me out. With the exception of a few select neighborhoods in the Phoenix area, rats aren't something we deal in the desert on a regular basis. Scorpions and black widows are much more common.

After a few years of learning the lay of the land, I have found out that rats are really--for a lack of a better phrase--no big deal over there. In fact, Mountain Brook, the high end community (similar to the Phoenix suburb of Paradise Valley) is just as likely to have homes with rats as Leeds. It isn't about the condition of the home or the people living in it. The rats just live everywhere.

That said, I would prefer they didn't live in my homes. Ms. Betty prefers that too.

And, as of today Ms. Betty will be rodent free. However the two-legged rats will still be infesting the neighborhood.

The Rajun Cajun

Rajun was my first agent in Birmingham. She got that honor because she answered the phone at the right place and time.

She has that highly accessorized real estate agent look with a pit bull of an attitude. If central casting wanted someone to play the part of a real estate agent, Rajun would be a shoe-in. Of course, I am also a real estate agent and don't look or act the part. Central casting would just glance at me, politely titter and move on.

Rajun wasn't an investor-type agent. However, she believed in what I was doing and it got me a good start. For that, I am grateful.

I started seeing problems with Rajun when she proudly regaled a story about how she yelled at a tenant of mine. Why? Because this woman moved in and couldn't get the heater working. So, she called Rajun. Rajun knew this home very well and perhaps she could tell my tenant what needed to be done.

I find this very reasonable. I don't find Rajun telling me she told off this poor, freezing tenant acceptable. I told her so. Immediately Rajun backed down from her story, toning down her sensational self-righteouness and suggesting she exaggerated just a little. Too late. The damage was permanently done.

My next major encounter with Rajun came in the summer of 2006. It was during this time Trusted Tenant came along looking for a home. He found one he liked better than the one he had previously chosen. He did what any reasonable person would do: he called me, telling me he found a home he loved and not to bother with the first house he found.

On the particular day he called, I was up to my armpits in family tragedy. My sister-in-law was on her last breath. My mother was close to death as well. I didn't have the mental stamina for much. Rajun, who knew what was going on with my family, had told me if I needed anything to just ask. So, I asked Trusted--whom I had only two conversation in the prior week--to please call Rajun, let him know what he decided and that it was ok with me.

It was not ok with Rajun, who let Trusted know--under no uncertain terms--he was not to look for a home without her. I heard from both of them that afternoon, with Rajun gloating at her victory of putting Trusted in his place. Trusted just said something along the line of, "I don't know either of you, but what the heck was that about?" So, with everything else I had going on, I had to straighten out the misunderstanding and explain to Rajun, it was not acceptable to bite the heads off of potential tenants. One would think, being from the South, this would have been a given.

From that day on, Rajun didn't like Trusted. Trusted wasn't crazy about her either. He, like all my tenants, politely didn't mention her. She growled about him--though she hadn't had any encounters since that episode.

Because Rajun was a real estate agent, she could collect rents for me. And, for a small fee, she did this. One month Trusted's rent went missing. I called Trusted and he assured me it was sent out. He gave me the check number, the date it was mailed and all sorts of other relevant information. His check miraculously appeared--with the date he swore the check was written--about two weeks after it was due.

The next month, Trusted proactively e-mailed me the check number and told me it was going in the mail that day. Again, the check didn't show up for two weeks, though Rajun had a lot to say about the missing check and Trusted being a deadbeat. The third month, I asked him to mail the check directly to me. I got the check without incident. Rajun had a lot to say about that too. It was mostly related to Trusted. She bypassed the odd coincidence of me getting rent on time when it was sent to Arizona, but her not getting it on time when it was sent about 20 miles.

There were other things too. I called her once, asking her to look up properties for me to purchase. She groused at me for not calling often enough (there was no reason for me to do so. The cashier at the local grocery store doesn't get snippy with she when he doesn't hear from me for a week or two). While Rajun and I were talking, she said she had to go because a potential client was calling in. After buying a gazillion homes, all of the sudden, I wasn't a client!

Also, during this time, two other tenants came forward as well with stories of verbal assaults. There is no reason why Rajun had contact with these people, much less why she felt the need to belittle them. They sent in their checks. That should be the end of it. She may have been my agent, but I assure you, she wasn't speaking for me. Looking back, I realize I spent more time than I should have smoothing over the relationship between me and my tenants because of Rajun. I shouldn't have had to spend ANY time doing it.

In March 2007, Marty, the kids and I took a road trip to Birmingham. We were there for two weeks. I was there to drum up interest in our company. One afternoon, I walked into one mortgage company on the other side of town from Rajun's office. This was a cold call. I had never done business with this company. I knew nobody who worked at this company. That afternoon, I had just been driving by and on a lark, stopped in to pass out my card and say hello. I had done this with several mortgage companies in the area. On this occasion, the mortgage broker took one look at my brochure and handed it back. He said, "I know who you are. I don't do business with people who do business with Rajun Cajun." (No time in our conversation did I tell him I knew her.) He didn't elaborate, instead quickly escorting me out the door.

Also during that trip, I spoke with a property management company. While sitting in the conference room I told the broker of this company I wanted to make sure my tenants would be treated with the utmost dignity. I informed him this was a major requirement and one I felt my current agent was falling short on. I never mentioned her by name. The man said to me, "Are you currently working with Rajun Cajun?" When I refused to answer, he told me Rajun has a reputation similar to what I described.

I fired Rajun the next day. She told me I would fail without her. She told me she was the reason my company was so successful. She gave me a lot of opinions she held about me letting her go. If my tenants got half of the tongue lashing I got, then I made the right decision. The very next day I met Jack.

But, Rajun's words have rung in my ears many times since. Last summer, when I was at my lowest, I started believing some of what she said. Maybe she was the reason things ran smoothly? Maybe I did need her for success? Maybe? This past summer, when things were at their worst, I blamed myself for everything going wrong. I was even blaming myself for the most current Middle East crisis. Rajun's words were spiraling around along with all the other negative self-talk I was feeding on.

Part of my personal mission is to treat people the way I want to be treated. There is no shame in renting. I fear this is something Rajun just didn't understand. People do it all the time for a variety of reasons. Homeowners aren't better than renters because they own a home.

Truly helping others doesn't give us a reason to be pious or forget about the dignity in others. Dignity is really all we have when we are stripped of everything else. Preserving a person's dignity will go far to grow a relationship. It is humbling to respect another's dignity. That is a lesson I hope Rajun learns.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

The Perfect Game

I learned about the Perfect Game some time ago. It is really useful when I am down or frustrated with life. Esssentially, decide up front that what ever is happening in your life, whatever is given to you, whatever you have and whomever crosses your path is absolutely perfect for you and exactly what you needed at that moment.

I play this game with Polly Perfectionist--my daughter--whom seems to be under the mistaken impression that everything should be easy and her way. I play this game with myself who is also under the mistaken impression everything should be easy and my way. Marty Sunshine throws this %*&%$$# concept at me when I start whining about injustices and annoyances.

Right now, mail is slow so rents aren't showing up on a timely basis. One of my tenants overnighted her mail through the USPS to show up last Monday. It got here Friday. I haven't received checks from those who normally pay don't cause me trouble. Those who do cause me heartburn, have an added excuse. But, they don't answer their phones/e-mails anyway to let me know the money is on its way. I just remind myself this is exactly what I need and every thing is perfect. If they don't pay, the perfect tenants are just around the corner.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Hmmm...

If you have been following this of late, you might have noticed I am getting a lot of insightful comments from "Ernie." These comments started about the same time I gave Carolsue my blog address.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog...

Happy Birthday Marty Sunshine!

Thank you for being such a bright spot in my life. Thank you for pushing our family towards excellence. I am a better person, wife and mother because of you.

Desperation

Let's face it. How often does anything good ever come out of making decisions out of desperation?

When I started thinking about our renters. The worst tenants were always ones I took out of sheer desperation. I am pleased to say I don't make the same mistakes more than a handful of times. And, I prefer to think of these mistakes as different--even if there are only subtle nuances between Mistake A and Mistake K.

Our first investment home was to be a flip. I had a newborn, no money and bad advice from my agent. It turned into a rental. The first interested renter who crossed my path was a pregnant woman with no job. She apparently saw "new clueless landlords" stamped on our forehead and played it up.

The woman was receiving child support and some sort of government assistance. Her two adult sons would be living with her and helping her pay the rent. She offered us two months cash. We jumped at it.

After a month, her sons moved out. Her child support stopped. She lasted a total of three months, gave birth and then I evicted her. Evicting someone in Arizona is pretty easy. Especially because I can do it myself.

Wayward was another desperation story. I wanted to believe Wayward's good paying job and her sense of responsibility to her children was enough to keep her honorable. My gut was telling me run and don't look back. There was additional pressure from Mr. Partner and my former agent, the Rajun Cajun. Mr. Partner wanted a tax deduction. Rajun wanted a commission. I really can't blame either of them for Wayward--it was still my call.

And, I had other issues going on too. Marty Sunshine's youngest sister had just died and we came inches from loosing a second family member. Looking back, I wasn't up to making strategic decisions--though I didn't realize it at the time. And, here's a quick tip: it is never a good idea to make strategic decisions during highly emotional times.

Of course, Wayward didn't mind our arrangement. I hunted her down every month for the rent and then she would then cheerfully pay it. She would still be living in that house today if I hadn't grown bored from this game. I always got my money, but on her terms. The first month she was late after I decided to kick her out, I joyfully started the eviction process.

Wayward left just in time too--right before anything really bad happened to either of us. And, she still has her good paying job. Thanks to Legal Eagle, I am garnishing her wages.

I often tell my perfectionist child that mistakes are what make us stronger. They help us grow and do better next time. Desperation has caused me lots of grief through the years. Surly as I hone my landlord skills, I am perfecting my craft.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

I have to be careful when I talk to potential renters. I don't want someone getting the impression I am discriminating. So, even when I am speaking to someone who has a very slim chance of renting my home, I would rather they came to that conclusion themselves. If you are married, or have been married, you know how this works.

Yesterday, I got a call from someone interested in the Moody home. However, she refused to identify herself. After about three attempts to get her name, I gave up. I used the old fashioned method of bluntly asking whom I was speaking to (after giving my name). I don't know if she was afraid I would hunt her down once I had something polite to call her, or if she is in the Witness Protection Program, either way, she didn't oblidge.

Even though I knew she wouldn't be living in my home, it took her a few minutes to catch on. Here was the highlight of our call.

Me: Do you have any pets?
Caller: Yes.
Me: What kind of pets do you have?
Caller: I have pets.
Me: Do you have dogs?
Caller: I have pets.
Me: Yes. Do you have dogs?
Caller: I have dogs.
Me: How many?
Caller: How many what?
Me: How many dogs?
Caller: A couple.
Me: Would that be two?
Caller: No, I have a few.
Me: So, three dogs?
Caller: No. I have four.
Me: Do you have any other animals.
Caller: I have a couple cats.

And, it went on in this manner for several more maddening moments.

The caller finally told me she has four dogs, three cats, a ferret, two hamsters, a turtle and a pot-bellied pig. And I didn't need to tell her I wasn't interested in that many animals in my home. She didn't want to rent from me by the time the call was done. The pet deposit scared her away.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Let the Games Begin

Dear Potential Rental Candidate:

If you send in your application and think you want to rent from me, please show me some basic communication skills. Completely fill out your application. Give me a valid e-mail address. Give me more than just a first name for your personal reference. While you are at it, give me a phone number for your personal reference. You know, act like you actually know them.

And--this is just a friendly suggestion--it might be a good idea on the rental history to let me call at least one of your past landlords. Telling me I may not talk to any of them is a really bad sign.

Thank you,

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Here We Go Again

I hate to say it, but interviewing potential tenants is what I dislike the most about the rental process. First, I have to weed through several potential tenants who think they are superstars, wanting to impress me or pull the wool over my eyes.

They ask questions that annoy me: "will you lower the rent if..." and other things. I don't admit right away I live out of town, because this brings up more issues from potential tenants. "The lady you hired didn't fix/clean the whatever and I want a break on the rent." Of course, if I am not there, they expect me to take their word for it, not realizing I am pretty tight with Carolsue.

When advertising a lower-end home--especially if I am willing to overlook a lot of credit issues--tends to bring out a larger selection of deadbeats. One can have bad credit and not be a deadbeat. I have one tenant who had a thriving business in Birmingham. They took out a small business loan, with their home as collateral. Then, a larger competitor moved in and forced them out of business. They aren't deadbeats. They lost their livelihood. There is a difference! But, I digress...

But, back to this point. I have to weed out the deadbeats to find the folks worthy of renting from me. Usually this means listening to a variety of sob stories and a string of curses from those who gave up trying to impress me. I also get people telling me that "It's Christmas" and therefore should cut them a break on the rent or deposits (this is even before I see their application). What they are really telling me is I don't want them. Because eventually they will say "It's Groundhog Day," "It's Arbor Day" and "It's National Deadbeat Day." Let them be fodder for someone else's blog.

One of the major issues with tenant selection is the pressure to do it right. Doing it wrong, or acting desperate, ultimately brings in undesirable tenants whom I will eventually have to kick out. So, I feel a duty to my partner (and my sanity) to do it right the first time. I have acted in desperation before. That is how I got Wayward. A vacant home isn't as costly as another Wayward mistake.

I keep thinking of who would want to rent this house in Moody. What kind of tenant? For the right price, one bathroom wouldn't bother me. It means one less bathroom to clean. The neighborhood is very cute. I am thinking a young couple or a single parent--preferably a single father. Single mothers are for another post (though I will rent to a single mother).

Today, I ran an ad in the Birmingham News for my house in Moody. It is 95 percent ready. I gave my Birmingham cell number for contracting me. On my voice mail, I mentioned the house is a three bedroom, one bath. I told a few really great things about the home and gave the address. I ended my voice mail by saying if the caller drives by and likes what they see, please call me to set up an appointment to see the interior.

I got one voice mail. I talked to the guy and am pretty sure he isn't going to make the cut--even if he wants the place. He is already asking about the Washington's Birthday rent reduction.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Fate

Carolsue, who is familiar with my former agent, asked me why I don't write about her. I am not sure I really want to open up that can of worms. She is a mixed blessing of sorts. She motivated me to start what I was doing over there. But, eventually she seemed to only have dollar signs in her eyes. Maybe she had dollar signs in her eyes all along. I just didn't notice.

Other than her terrible temper, my other big complaint about her is the lack of fiduciary responsibility I saw towards the end. For those of you who don't bandy around phrases like "fiduciary responsibility" on a regular basis, it simply means, she wasn't acting in my best interest and wasn't putting my needs (her client) above her own.

For example, the house in Moody has one bathroom--even though I repeatedly and specifically told her I never want one bathroom homes. I did not know this one had one bathroom until a two years after I owned it. As she knew this was important to me, in my estimation, she purposely misled me. I also know she got a higher than average commission for this sale.

Could I sue? Probably. Would I win? Maybe. Would it be worth the hassle of doing this? Maybe. Do I have the money? No. Do I own the house and do I have some benefit from it? Yes. Does it change the fact--in my mind--she did me wrong? No.

As a real estate agent, I understand the importance of fiduciary responsibility. This week I have been dealing with a transaction that screeched "ethics complaint" if I did nothing. Instead, everyone in a ten mile radius has been involved and I spent eight weeks of my life in a two hour time span Friday afternoon on a conference call defending my client and our contract.

I am probably defending him out of buying a home. Which means I don't get a commission if he backs out. But, I would rather he made that decision than have an unhappy home owner. And, to do anything less would be breaching my fiduciary responsibility.

If my agent had acted that way with me, she might still be my agent. I really just needed someone to go to bat for me. Maybe in the long run it worked out best anyway. Because of her avarice, I lucked out and found Jack.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Right Back At Ya

Hehe... I am sending Bliz a mountain of papers. Ok, ok... I am paying Bliz to deal with my moutain of papers. And, then she will send them back to me.

You know what? This no longer sounds good.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Merry Christmas Mrs. Sherwood

Mrs. Sherwood is one of my favorite tenants. She got this status by leaving me alone for the past year and paying on time. Her yard is well maintained and the neighbors aren't calling me. Thank you Mrs. Sherwood.

Then she had issues. First, the water pressure. Then the hot water heater went one untimely early Saturday morning. Then the oven. Her water issues are resolved. The oven isn't.

When Mrs. Sherwood called today, she told me she hadn't really paid much credence to the oven because her dear husband has been grilling their dinner for the past year. However, he really would like a roast turkey for Christmas this year. And, she confided, she is a little tired of barbecue.

Two months ago, I hired an appliance repair person to fix the 45 year old oven. I sent him a check and was thrilled the problem was resolved so cheaply. Then, the appliance repair person called to say he wasn't cashing the check because he needed another part. He graciously sent me back the check. And, until he got the new part, we were on hold. Nobody called me and I forgot all about it.

Come to find out, Mrs. Sherwood can't get Appliance Guy to return her calls. She theorizes he wasn't able to find the part and wasn't man enough to tell her. Understandable, as this oven is so old, finding parts has been challenging. But, Mrs. Sherwood toiled and found the last remaining distributor of 45 year old oven widgets. They want $300 for the part.

It looks like Mrs. Sherwood is getting a new (to her) electric range.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Crossing My Fingers and Toes

As a landlord, I know better. But, it is too late. My hopes are up. Marty lovingly told me by posting this it makes me sound weak and needy. I'm posting anyway.

I haven't advertised the house in Moody for rent yet. Carolsue has a few odds and ends to do and I am waiting for a photo or two from her.

However, I got a call out of left field this morning. Someone I talked to months ago about the house in Moody (back before it was vacant) wants a place to live by the end of the month. They drove by when the house was occupied and the yard was trashed. Now, they are wondering if the former tenant is gone and if the place is ready to rent. If so, when could they see it?

I am Not a Slum Lord

Since I have posted the photos of a few of my rental homes, two people have (very tactfully) mentioned they were surprised these homes aren't as "modest" as they expected. And, I should add, they meant it in the nicest way.

Actually one of my readers said to me on Monday, "I was expecting something like South Phoenix," which isn't a compliment. However, the person who said it has enough credibility with me to say just about anything she wants.

My homes (and the residents therein) span all walks of life. The tenants living in the worst neighborhoods tend to give me the most grief. There are a few exceptions. The home in Leeds is in an older area, but not a scary area. And, the tenants never really really gave me trouble. The neighbors did. The one in Moody is a cute little neighborhood and the former tenant is an abomination.

As a landlord, I don't want scary ghetto homes. Scary ghetto-type homes bring with them scary ghetto-type people.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Well, Isn't That A Fine How Do You Do?

Bliz sent me a two-inch thick envelope with (my) papers for me to file. The least she could have done is send a bottle of ameretto with it to ease the pain. Sheesh.

Just a Quick Follow Up

Flipping homes is not a first time investor activity. It is a seasoned investor who has already recovered from a slap from a few Murphy's-Laws-mishaps-type-of-activity.

Moody

Last week I spoke with my first choice for property manager. In June, she told me I could get about $900 for Mr. Smith's home. Probably in June I could. In December, she is telling me I can get $700.

Her rental pricing reasoning was sound. This property is a bit out of town. Birmingham's economy is really awful right now (even the local Wal-Mart has done lay-offs) and who wants a one bathroom home anyway? I was crushed. I can't afford to rent this place out for $700 even without a property manager.

I started thinking about my rents. I always ask more than market for my rents. And, I have always gotten them. This is a small home with one bathroom. I had a bad agent who neglected to tell me it was a one bathroom when we purchased it. I only found out after we had owned the place for more than a year that it has one bathroom... but that agent is for another blog sometime when I feel like being really, really annoyed...

Did the property manager scare me by telling some things I suspected? Or, did Mr. Smith squash my spirit to the point where I want to give up? The answer is both.

The property manager pointed out I might get someone very desperate who is willing to pay extra for the Moody house (Moody is the town this home is located in. I just now decided I am tired of paying homage to Mr. Smith, so the hell with him!). But those people would have to be willing to want a small place that should rent for much less. I could spend the money and time to try to rent it out for more and let it sit vacant for months before I lower it down to market price. Or, I could price it competitively, loose money every month but hopefully find someone quickly.

As a business owner, I have to make decisions to best benefit all parties. In this case, I just don't have an answer.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

Drat

I need legal advice. I adore Legal Eagle personally and professionally. It is just that every phone call, e-mail or smoke signal costs money. Rightfullly so. I didn't go to law school. She has the correct answers and a few bucks to her can save me tons later.

I doubt I will be able to blog about this newest event, as Legal Eagle tends to get fussy about me writing about lawyerly things. But, I can tell you it is probably no big deal and I am not even stressed about it. Yet. Just a little property damaage to a passer-by's car and someone's insurance will cover it.

Saturday, December 06, 2008

Pouring on the Charm

I have spoken with Mrs. 508 about three times this week. Essentially, the long sad song continues. To her credit, it isn't a "woe is me... My life is terrible" kind of melody. It is more of a "I can't believe this came up too," kind of waltz.

Mrs. 508 is on the list of people I have never personally met. Her saga is affecting my life and ability to get rent. Mrs. 508 and I discussed her making different living arrangements. That is still up in the air.

As we were going through the last conversation, I said, "This isn't about where you get your mail and sleep at night. This is about your entire life. You need to get your shit together Mrs. 508."

Well, at least I called her by her last name when I cussed her out.

Friday, December 05, 2008

One of the Things I Really Love About Carolsue

Mr. Smith's yard was a nightmare. I have no idea what he was doing with his spare time, but it wasn't cleaning up the trash he stored in his 1/2 acre yard. Andy, my new convicted-murderer-lawn-guy (I will never tire of writing that), offered to clean it up for a fair price. Carolsue talked him down an extra $100 anyway.

Here's the after photo.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Begging People to Take My Money

Is it really too much to ask? When I wish to purchase something or want a service that the parties involved actually call me back or act like they want to help me?

Monday, December 01, 2008

The Kitchen Cabinet Story

Once upon a time, Marty and I decided to start our investment career by flipping homes. We knew nothing about said project except what we read about in the latest investment books and what we saw on the TLC channel. So, pretty much what experience could be summed up by some author in a 120 page book or in a 30 minute TV show was crammed into our brains.

In the event you ever want to flip homes and this blog isn't enough to warn you, please contact me first. It is worthwhile if you know what you are doing, have enough money and you pick the right house. We didn't on any count.

We carefully saved every penny we had to scrape together our down payment and found the deal of the decade. It was a home in an older neighborhood in central Mesa (that would be about Broadway and Stapley for those of you who know the area). The area is predominantly Hispanic with a handful of rednecks. No, I am not being racist. One of those rednecks lived next door to this home and moved to Leeds Alabama, but that is for another blog.

When we ventured into this, I was in my fifth month of 10 months of daily morning sickness. My oldest, Polly, was 20 months and had outgrown naps by my third month of pregnancy. I was extremely tired, pregnant and hungry. That really isn't the best qualifications for a project manager.

The house itself needed one of everything. It had been completely trashed by the former tenants. I hired Chip, the Window guy (yes really). I hired Ron the Handyman who conveniently had three sons to help him out. I also hired a young friend who was about 17 at the time. He told me at the end of the day, he wasn't cut out for "peasant work."

My friend is no longer 17. He is now an architect and volunteers for Habitat for Humanity. I saw him at Thanksgiving and think the world of him. In all fairness, I had him cleaning out the refrigerator the tenant left behind because I was too hormonally imbalanced to do it.

And, the work was started before I had a chance to blink. To my absolute horror, Ron had the place gutted before I got over there the first Monday morning. However, I didn't want the place gutted. I didn't have the money for "gutted." I had money for "pretty up." Of course, looking back, I realize now, I bought a property that desperately screamed "gut me!" "Prettying up" in this case would have been like putting a shiny bow on a mud-covered tree sloth.

About two and a half weeks in, Ron decided to make good on his vacation threat. It was he and his wife's 25th anniversary. They were taking the entire family on a 3-week cruise. Ron must have had a sixth sense about him, because it was about then we ran out of money.

We really didn't have the money to fix up the place to begin with--though we thought we did. We had only saved enough to buy it with a little left over for a coat of paint. Before Ron left, we were getting by, but what we budgeted and the reality were very different.

Interior doors (installed), for example, cost about $150 each. It was a four bedroom, two bath home. All the doors needed to be replaced. Every window was broken. There was a major water leak in the master bathroom. Ron graciously took out the cabinets--which were falling apart and needed to go but we didn't realize it at the time.

As I write this, I am reminded of Mr. Krab's from Spongebob, quickly salvaging every last scrap of "valuable" garbage from a trash heap.

Me (shooting Ron the pregnant death look): "Why did you take out the kitchen cabinets?"
Ron (father of five children and immune to hormones): "Because they were disintegrating into sawdust every time I walked near them."
Me: "Why did you take out the potty?"
Ron: "Because the bowl was cracked and wouldn't hold water."
Me: "Why did you take out the carpet?"
Ron: "What carpet?"

While Ron was on vacation, the weather turned hot and the work still needed to be completed. We were in a bind. The work was about half done and our money was gone. My father, who had the mother of all heart attacks years earlier, drove 45 miles every July day, while the temperatures were in the high 110s, to work on the house for us. Dad is a retired electrician and worked in construction for 35 years.

Every day, Dad got there around 8:30 and stayed until 5 p.m. He put in the bathroom vanities, ceiling fans, kitchen cabinets and took care of everything else. He tactfully told me to stay away because the environment wasn't good for his grandchildren. Truthfully, I was extremely stressed and bitchy by this point. He wasn't putting up with me and the house. Every evening, after Dad went home and Marty got off work, Marty and I would go over and do more.

Right after Ron and his three strapping teenage boys left, the neighbors who lived directly behind the home came over and helped themselves. The first trip they took a few of Dad's tools, door knobs and the portable fans dad was using to keep cool (Dad told us not to worry with the air conditioner because that was so expensive. I love my Dad).

We know it was them because one of the neighbors saw them, but didn't think enough to call the police. They did tell us, just in case I wanted to waddle my pregnant backside over there and get the portable fan back. The police, by the way, did nothing either.

The second trip is when we realized they took the keys for the house on the first trip. On the third trip, they found out we changed the locks (door locks, by the way aren't cheap.). Instead, they just broke one of the newly installed doors down. They could have broken a window--which would have been messier, but cost less. But no. This time they took a few of the new kitchen cabinets Dad had just installed for us. And, they took the portable evaporative cooler Dad was using to keep cool. Even though there were witnesses, the police still did nothing.

These three break-ins happened in about an 8-day window. So, we found someone who wanted to live at the home. Bobby had an RV and needed a place to park it. Bobby was a very large Texan who looked like he would be happy to kick some thieving neighbor ass. Our house was never robbed again. (On a side note, we lost Bobby to a horrible bout of cancer about three years ago. He was an absolutely wonderful man).

The house didn't become a flip. We didn't have the right agent to handle that. In fact, that is one of the reasons I got my license. I needed better representation.

The house did become a rental. The first renter lasted three months and is for another blog.

The second ones were a man whose mother lived two doors down. He moved in with his family. He grew up playing in this home. After about a year, I sold it to them--the very first people in our program. They have since transitioned out of our program and still live there to this day. They are some of the best tenants we ever had.

Gadzooks

Here's why I believe in Karma/Divine Retribution/the adage about Paybacks.

Mr. Smith has been driving past his former home on his new tricked-out motorcycle. I don't get it: He will uproot his family and not honor his obligations--as long as he looks pretty darn good doing it?

The Property Manager

I have been lobbying for a long time to find a local property manager. Carolsue would like the job, but she isn't a licensed real estate agent. I am. I know better. A judge would know I would know better.

Carolsue can get by opening up a home for potential renters to see, with the mantra "ask the landlord" every time they have a question--even if she knows the answer. For example:

Potential Tenant: What school system is here?
CS: Ask the landlord.
Potential Tenant: Is the hot water gas or electric?
CS: Ask the landlord.
Potential Tenant: Will the owner allow me to add a second story, basement and fourth bedroom, close in the garage to make a den and paint the walls black all at her own expense?
CS: Sug, bless your heart. Y'all need to ask the landlord.

But, Carolsue cannot collect rents on my behalf, give out pertinent home data, schedule repairs and deal with some of the crazy things I get on a regular basis. (Here's a new one. I got a call one day from a tenant. "Do you know where the electrical box is on the house?" Me: "Why not look where the power lines are coming out of the power pole and follow them to where they attach to the house. That should give you a pretty good indication of where the electrical box happens to be.")

Mr. Partner has been against this idea from the get-go. Mainly, because I am cheaper than a property manager and why pay for them when I can deal with the headaches? And, he doesn't like the idea of someone else deciding how to spend our money for repairs--which I think is fair, but fixable. Let's put a clause in a contract saying if the garbage disposal breaks, we will get a quote before we agree to pay out whatever the property management company is charging.

While in Birmingham this past summer, completely ignoring Mr. Partner's protests, I personally interviewed to three property management companies and talked over the phone with a dozen others. I was astonished that most of the companies do not show these properties. They just have the potential tenant come in, sign something and "check out" a key.

The largest property management company in the STATE of Alabama told me, "this has never been a problem." So, if the dishwasher, air conditioner and kitchen cabinets were there before the potential tenant saw the place, but are missing afterwards, who has the liability? I discussed this with Mr. D., whom I also met with on that trip, and also thought this was outrageous. But, I digress.

Incidentally, I have had kitchen cabinets stolen, but that is for another blog.

I did talk with one company I really liked. Ironically enough, they are located in Leeds. But, I don't hold that against them. The woman I spoke with was exactly what I was looking for. Additionally, she doesn't give out keys. She actually has an agent meet the potential tenant at the house, unlocks the property and then locks it back up.

I really wanted Mr. Smith's former home to go under an independent property manager. I finally convinced or wore down Mr. Partner. My reasoning was simple, I knew Mr. Smith would be living in the neighborhood (his father-in-law lives across the street. His father-in-law must be so proud of his daughter... but I digress again). Mr. Smith has made it perfectly clear he is not happy to loose his home. I have no idea what direction this anger might take him. I feel it is in our company's best interest to put a buffer between the home, future tenant, Mr. Smith and me.

I am currently playing phone tag with the Leeds property management company to get them to take me on as a client. Last week they stopped by the home while Carolsue was there and looked around. Hopefully by tomorrow we will get Mr. Smith's home listed.