Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Gah!

Here is Baseball Guy's handiwork. I just adore him.

All the windows and doors are now boarded up at the 508 house. It is actually painful to look at this. It screams ghetto.


Sunday, June 28, 2009

Reading Between the Lines

Saturday late afternoon Ms. Betty called me. Her timing is impeccable. Right before she called, I had been toying with searching the obituaries, as I hadn't heard from her in weeks.

It turns out Ms. Betty's air conditioning went out. And, according to her, it was 85 degrees inside her home. And, according to her, she wasn't happy. And, she reminded me she has two young children. I am guessing the subtext was: Fix this. Fix this NOW.

I spoke my best Southern, "Oh bless your heart. You must be so uncomfortable." You may translate to: There isn't a whole lot that can happen until Monday.

However, my next suggestion was for them on Monday morning to call the AC company and tell them to come out there and fix the unit. (That would be Clay's former company, as he is BUSY Monday and can't make it out to Leeds).

I could tell Ms. Betty wasn't satisfied with this answer. But, she didn't say so. She just gave me a begrudgingly "Yes ma'am."

An hour later Mr. Betty called and told me it was hot in his house. He thought it was the air conditioning motor--in case I needed to know that. He also mentioned there were children in the home. You may translate that to: How come you haven't caught the first plane to Birmingham and are taking care of this at this very moment?

Because Mr. Betty is pretty handy, I asked him if he was able to legitimately find an air conditioning motor at that time of day. Or, if there might be a company open on Sunday that might be able to sell an air conditioning motor? If so, would he be willing to take care of this? For the sake of his children?

Nope. He didn't know of one.

"I think the best course of action would be to wait until Monday then, and have Ms. Betty call for service. Would that work for you?"

I got another "yes ma'am." But I don't think, in this case, it meant "yes ma'am."

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Keeping Cool with Clay

Friday afternoon, Carolsue called me at 4:20 Alabama time to tell me the house in Fultondale is sans air conditioning. Argh! I wanted to show it this weekend. However, showing a home that doesn't have working air is a tremendous waste of time.

I quickly got off the phone with her and called Clay the AC Guy. Clay left his former company months ago. However, he managed to nab my number on the way out the door. I am pretty grateful for that.

There is a strange phenomena that I have noticed about those who specialize for a living. They remember obscure details related to their occupation. For example, my dermatologist can tell me (from memory) about every mole he has removed in the past six years from my body, what type it was and whether each one was malignant or not.

Clay is just the same with HVAC systems. He remembered the work on the air conditioner he expertly rigged last September. No kidding! The first thing out of his mouth after polite niceties and before we got to the gist of the call was, "How is that air conditioner holding up in your Fultondale home. It was pretty shot last year."

After deliberating, Marty and I have decided to replace the unit. Apparently, a new compressor costs almost as much as a new unit. So, come Monday, the home will have cool air. Marty and I didn't plan for this. But either we can put the air conditioner on now, or we can have Clay use chewing gum and duct tape to make it work and then replace it in a few months.

One of the REALLY nice things about air conditioners in Alabama is the cost. We were recently forced to replace the air conditioner on our personal residence. We are getting the same unit there for 1/3 the cost. Cool.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Mr. Partner and Me

I had lunch with Mr. Partner on Wednesday. The 508s weren't the only thing on the agenda, but of course, it is what we spent the majority of the time discussing. Mr. Partner wanted to make sure I am ok about everything.

Actually, I am. The house couldn't be worse. I think it is pretty much at its maximum for yuckiness. But, we have insurance. It will get straightened out. Who knows, maybe with the insurance claim we will add a basement, another bathroom, an indoor pool and a second story!

It really helps that we are of one mind about the entire thing. It also helps that we went through the nightmare of last summer. It prepared me for this. Make no mistake! This will be a migraine headache. But it is one property. Six homes at the same time is an aneurysm.

There are people I know who, after hearing about the 508 house, say they will only be a landlord if they are close to the property. Mr. Partner mentioned it wouldn't have been any different if we were next door. We wouldn't have been able to do anything until after the damage was done anyway.

I have been told by folks they will never be landlords because of people like the 508s who trashed the house. My advice is, please don't. It is rather unnerving when this kind of damage happens.

Mr. Partner and I don't have the emotional attachment to the home. This isn't a treasured family estate. It is an investment vehicle (or will be again at some later date). But, we see the potential. Real estate investing is risky. It isn't for everyone.

One of the really great parts about our lunch was talking about what was going right. There was a lot of that. We have many other homes that are currently working out. We have good stuff happening. And, that made the 508 home issue easier to swallow.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Picture

If you are standing in the bedroom in the back of the home, you can now look through this hole, peer into the front bedroom and see the front yard. Yes, that tree is in the front yard.

This isn't the worst of what the 508s did, but it is probably enough for those of you on the fence, thinking about toying in rental properties.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Mr. Richards Update

Two weeks ago, Mr. Richards called me to tell me he was sending the money he owed to me. It would be in the mail that day. I had no reason not to believe him because:

1. He took the initiative to call me.
2. He had usually been true to his word.

This time nothing came. I called with little expectations of reaching him to tell him what he already knew: the check didn't come. I didn't expect to hear from him, but I wanted to keep hope alive.

As soon as I got off the phone with Mr. Richard's voice mail, I called Legal Eagle and told her to do her magic. I don't know if he has been served yet or not. But, we all know how that goes.

Given I have the 508 situation on my hands, I am not excited about dealing with Mr. Richard's eviction. I would even be willing to work something out if he came through with some money. Just enough to let him limp along a teensy bit more before I kicked his butt out.

This past weekend I asked Carolsue if she might be willing to go over and have a chat with him. She happens to live directly across the parkway from him. Seriously, she could walk there in as much time as it would take to drive to his house.

Mr. Richards hasn't been home. Carolsue isn't in the business of harassing my tenants anyway. I certainly appreciate the effort, but this isn't what she signed up for.

So, it looks like Mr. Richards is going to leave. I am going to have to pay for Eaglet's first year at Harvard to get rid of him. But, Mr. Richards will pay me back. He's got a job. I know how to find him.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Rolling Forward

Before 8:30 today:

1. I Called the insurance adjuster, left a message.

2. I called an attorney (sadly Legal Eagle has to recuse herself on this one). The attorney said to press charges I needed to call the DA's Office.

3. I called the DA's Office. They told me to call the Magistrate's Office.

4. I called the Magistrate's Office. They told me to call Birmingham Police, homicide division (yes really).

5. I called the Birmingham Police and explained my situation. They put me through to robbery (I just couldn't ask for homicide).

6. The officer listened, told me I didn't have much of a case, offered to pray for me. After my insistence, she put me through to the East Precinct.

7. Sgt. Thomas at the East Precinct was already familiar with the case. She wasn't interested in helping me out. She said, unless I could "prove" the 508s did the damage, there was no case. I explained that Mrs. 508 admitted to me there was a broken window, a hole in the wall (that she told me she was planning on repairing) and an air conditioner that didn't work. Also, she talked with Carolsue this week and admitted she and Mr. 508 may had done the damage, but wanted more time to fix everything and it wouldn't be a problem.

I also explained to Sgt. Thomas we are looking at several thousand dollars worth of repairs. Sgt. Thomas acquiesced. She said once I got the insurance claim filed I could make a supplementary report and file felony charges against the 508s.

That made me feel better. Even nothing has happened of yet.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Hello! Now Please Don't Contact Me

I am in the business of providing a quality home for quality people. There is a contract and an exchange of money. I am fair. I am honest. And sometimes I am even a pushover. I am proud of what I do. I provide a service. I give people a place to live.

Right now, I like all my tenants. Even the ones who owe me money. I haven't always been able to say that.

Through experience, or more likely just through maturity, I have managed to separate me-the-human from me-the-business-owner. I can be friendly and know that there are times my tenants are being friendly because they may want a favor down the road. Sometimes tenants are this way. Sometimes they are just downright nice folks who just want to share.

I don't seek these people out. I don't e-mail them and ask how things are going in their personal life. In fact, I don't tend to e-mail or call my tenants at all. I like a certain degree of anonymity. I like the distance. It is nice to hear about the events in their life, but I am not a part of those events. I am just a spectator who only gets a snippet when they share.

When my tenant found me through Twitter, I realized how socially vulnerable I really am. It never occurred to me someone renting from me would seek me out. I don't think it was done as anything other than a well-intentioned friendly overture.

That said, I recently got a Facebook request from one of my tenants. I am absolutely positive this was just a kind gesture. She is a sweet person and under different circumstances, I would have said yes. But, there is a certain level of professionalism that must be maintained here. I thought that was pretty obvious. How many of us Facebook friend our boss or our banker?

One of my long-term tenants, who never contacts me, and I have never personally met, also e-mailed me today. Her mother died. Days later, her brother died. She told me she thinks of me as a friend and just wanted to share. I am flattered she thinks this highly of me. I am saddened by her loss and told her. But, I wouldn't go so far as to call her a friend. If she wasn't renting from me, I would hope she would be. She is a facinating person.

It isn't that I don't befriend the people who have rented from me. I can think off-hand of five former tenants I stay in touch with (two of whom are on my Facebook list). It doesn't seem appropriate to be pals until the business relationship is through. Maybe it is just me, but I wouldn't consider looking for Legal Eagle or Jack on Facebook.

So, in the event you are reading this and you are a tenant, please understand we are not friends. It isn't personal.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

At Least the Roof Didn't Cave In

We were headed to Tucson Sunday afternoon to visit with family when Carolsue called. The exchange went like this.

CS: I want you to apologize to Marty right now for me.
Me: Why?
CS: Because you are about to be in a very bad mood.

Apparently there have been bad rainstorms in Alabama this weekend. The National Weather Service has issued warnings to gather the animals two by two. Reservations are being taken on the ark. I am quite thankful the skies opened up after I left.

However, according to Carolsue, my home in Fultondale now has an indoor swimming pool. The basement consists of a former one car garage now converted to a bonus room/storage room/office/fourth bedroom. There is also a laundry room and a finished basement turned into a family room. All of these rooms now sport about 1/2 inch of water.

Fortunately, the only room with flooring currently is the family room. Even more fortunately, nobody was living there with their personal possessions destroyed. No tenant is going to scream "toxic mold" because there is now water damage. That is interesting too--because there was no sign of prior water damage, so this is a new development or this is the first major flood in the area.

Carolsue--bless her--already assigned Sid to take care of this, assuring me the exterior wall needs some flashing and repair. Of course, I need carpet for the family room now. And, I already have a source for that too.

The water will dry. It will get fixed. It certainly is an annoyance. I am not excited about spending more time and resources on getting this repaired (it doesn't sound like it is enough for an insurance claim and I really, REALLY, dislike Alpha Adjuster enough that I don't want to even bother with something so small).

I never reached totally freaked out. And, I never hit "bad mood" because of this. I feel like I should be much more upset than I am. But I am not.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Home Sweet Home

I am sitting on my couch. Marty Sunshine knows I am tired and has graciously allowed me to watch baseball on "his" high definition TV. Marty has no appreciation for baseball. He even made me his deluxe grilled cheese sandwitches for dinner. Mmmm.. homemade food.

My trip was productive. I met with a mortgage officer who handles investors yesterday. Great meeting! He gave me some inspiring things to play with that may help us with our future company growth.

I also went back out to Fultondale yesterday and met Carolsue's nephew and helper, Jon. As he thinks I am "young" and "pretty" he is my new best friend. The work over there is coming along really well. I think Carolsue will have it ready for me to advertise for the weekend.

This morning I went back out to Mrs. Martin's former home to go over it with Carolsue. She and I went through looking for ways to "mac-daddy" it up. One option is looking at enclosing a room to make it a fourth bedroom. She is working with members of her syndicate to get me a quote.

Now that the water is on, we found out there is a leaky pipe /faucet at the washing machine faucet. As it took me several months to pay off the plumber last time I needed him, I did a quick prayer that the only decent plumber in Birmingham would take my calls. Turns out he will. Whew.

I also needed to pay next door neighbor, Billy. I gave him specific instructions: when the grass gets long, mow it. He can also park his car in the driveway of my home if he chooses. I would prefer it.

My final appointment was with Legal Eagle where we spent an hour and a half chatting about everything but lawyerly things. We then spent 2 minutes going over the other things I needed. As the 508s are supposedly moving out this weekend, I won't need to find legal counsel. I hope.

One of the major discoveries I made is how much more smoothly things run with Carolsue in the picture. I don't have to travel there as often--though I am planning on going back in the fall. My tenants are working out and Carolsue gives them a pretty thorough look-over before I ever get an application. All and all, it is going ok.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Dear Mrs. Martin

Please tell me! What possessed you to paint your kitchen blood red and why on earth did you use flat paint? I am including the cost of the four cans of Kiltz to your garnishment.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

As I sit in my hotel room, showered, fed, I have been reflecting on my day. Today being my first full day in Birmingham.

This morning, I met Carolsue at the Fultondale home. The folks that moved out didn’t leave it as clean as I was hoping. Mind you, it isn’t bad. I certainly have seen worse. But, they left behind two years of fingerprints and dust. They didn’t own a working vacuum either.

My biggest complaint is they apparently didn’t know you are supposed to turn off the water to the washing machine before disconnecting. So there is a slight flood in the utility room—which is concrete. However, it spilled slightly into the downstairs den, which is carpet. I really should be more upset about this, but I am way too tired right now.

At the Fultondale home, I met three neighbors. The most curious of these folks came by early to ask Carolsue if she could have the potted plants left outside (which, now that I think of it is a bit nervy). I suppose this was her way of finding out the dirt on my tenants who left, as she actually returned the plants later that morning when I showed up. She then spent time hanging out with us looking for more information.

The other neighbors seemed much less nosy, with the guy behind this house giving me lots of details about the neighborhood Halloween customs and the neighbor two doors down innocently asking Carolsue if she was my mother. Here’s a quick tip, if you are ever in a situation where you are going to poke fun at Carolsue’s age, don’t do it when she is standing close enough to bop you. And no, Carolsue is NOT old enough to be my mother.

After Fultondale, we hightailed it across town (which in this case is 14.84 miles) to Mrs. Martin’s former home. True to her word, she moved. And, she left the place pretty clean too. Except every room is painted some sort of hideous color. For example, the kitchen is red. The master bedroom (which apparently was—I hope—where her daughters slept) is purple, yellow, pink and has a Bratz wall boarder. The kitchen flooring is in sad shape from years of wear and tear. The carpet is debatable. There is a red stain on the carpet that I think I made worse when I went to clean it. It is now pink and bigger.

While at Mrs. Martin’s former home, we met the neighbor. The neighbor dragged his son over with a friendly suggestion that Junior was out of college for the summer and for the love of all things holy could we please put him to work and get him off the couch?

This kid, by the way, looks just like Judge Reinhold’s character, Billy, in Beverly Hills Cop. Billy is now doing the lawn, changing out the locks and he took the children’s sandbox located on the upper deck of Mrs. Martin’s former home and drug it to the curb for me.

I also called James, the former hell's angel turned carpet guy for a quote for the kitchen vinyl and carpet for the rest of the home. James has already gotten back to me with his super-inexpensive quote (cash only). Someday I am going to ask James how he is able to get quality carpet at low prices. Come to think of it, I probably don't want to know.

After Carolsue and I parted ways, I ran over to the local hardware store and purchased new door locks, Kiltz and a few supplies. Carolsue is handling most of the supply gathering, as getting the homes ready to rent out really her job. But, my hope was that if I could get a jump on covering some of the obnoxious colors at Mrs. Martin’s former home she might be able to turn that place around faster.

It took me two and a half hours to use up one can of Kiltz on the red kitchen. The kitchen is now pink. It turns out that painting in the humidity is very different than painting in the desert. Paint actually rolls off the walls instead of sticking to the walls! And, paint tends to be more runny than thick. Not only that, in the desert, you can paint a wall and then roll on another coat five minutes later. If you try that in the humidity, the paint on the wall will stick to the roller. Thus again proving everything happens much slower in the South.

When I was done with the paint, I learned there is no water at Mrs. Martin’s former home. But I will deal with that Monday.

Friday, June 05, 2009

I So Need a Vacation

On my first trip out to Alabama several years ago, Marty Sunshine made an innocent quip about me just "taking a vacation." If you have ever been in a relationship or if you happen to be female, you know the type of look he he got.

My Alabama trip is not a vacation. It is a concentrated amount of work on a very tight time schedule with the luxury of having no time differences. In the past, I have been up at 6 a.m. and back to the hotel sometimes as late as 11 p.m. Generally my trip consists of errands and a ton of running around taking care of minor things that have been put on hold for the past few months.

I also meet with all the major players (lawyers, mortgage guys, some tenants and Jack) who have been going to bat for me for an extended amount of time and discussing with them what the next steps are. Because of the uncertainty of the economy and the housing market, I don't know what the future holds. They don't either, so we commiserate and brainstorm.

A lot of what I do while I am there is essentially relationship building. I get out for a dinner with Jack and Mrs. Jack. I have lunch with Legal Eagle too. These are all business appointments. We all like each other--which makes this much easier--but I am still on the clock. I am there to work.

I will also see Carolsue--which is always a hoot. I always learn about some obscure Southern tradition or Southern history hanging out with her.

I will be checking out my vacant homes immediately (Mrs. Martin assures me she is moving out today). I may also have to go attorney shopping, as soon as Legal Eagle hears all the dirt going on and can "properly" direct me to someone who can help me with my situation. Actually, I do have some Legal Eagle type things for her that are covered under attorney-client privilege.

Oh yes, there is the whole inspection thing. But, Carolsue is handling that.

I am an serious introvert by nature. As much as I like these people and am totally grateful for their support, seven days of constant human interaction drains everything out of me. I look forward to the flight home just so I can plug in my ipod and read a Rex Stout mystery. I don't pretend to be social on the plane ride home. It is just me, Clapton and Archie Goodwin. And those three hours of solitude are my vacation.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

Not Lost in the Translation

The Alabama Department of Revenue sent me my yearly "You have not paid up and where the heck is our money?" nasty-gram.

Last year Diamond Jim handled this from May to December, with the Alabama Department of Revenue finally backing down. We were finally told by those nice folks in Montgomery, Oh wow! We found your payment! The check had been cashed. Sorry about that. Our bad.

I just got this year's late notice from the good ADofR folks telling me they didn't get this year's tax check. Which they did. In April. They also cashed on April 30.

I have told them so. I have sent them a copy (front and back) of the cashed check. And, I have sent them a letter where some clerk will probably get my letter and say something along the lines of, "Well bless her heart. She was probably just having a bad day." Which I believe is Southern speak for "What a bitch."

Ok, the letter wasn't nasty. But I did ask if there are some guidelines or procedures I am not aware of to streamline this process to avoid future potential late notices THAT I AM NOT OWED. I certainly hope I made it clear I don't want this to go on until December.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

The Alternative Universe of Loan Modifications

I am trying to do a loan modification for one property. Actually, I would prefer to this for several properties. However, my life is currently in drive-by administrative mode--meaning I sit at the desk for about 10 minutes at a time. Just long enough to get 1/3 of any task done until the phone rings.

March 31:

I sent the loan modification paperwork to the bank, along with a letter explaining why I was looking into this. I sent them sales comparables. I sent them everything their Web site said I needed to send them.

May 1:

I received a letter (that they sent to Bliz) dated April 4. It said they made "several attempts to contact me" and I had 10 days from the notice of that letter to respond or they would be closing my file. As I hadn't heard from them during any of their "several attempts" I found this rather disturbing.

Afternoon of May 1:

After waiting on hold for an eon, the customer service representative explained they did indeed have my phone number and current address. Yep. They can reach me. I asked the customer service representative if there were notes in my file saying when they tried to reach me. The notes said they sent a letter out April 4. "That's it?" I asked. Yep.

The good news is--according to the customer service rep--all I needed to do was resubmit my loan modification on their new and improved form. He said to include my lease for the property and my 2008 taxes and I should be good to go. Otherwise, as it stood then, the file was closed. Good bye. Good luck.

Last Week

Because of time constraints I have have been working on this on and off ever since. Last week I got my 2008 taxes finished. Yippee!!

June 2 10 a.m.

Marty Sunshine provided me with his latest paystub and I was in the process of double checking everything before I hit the fax machine. I had my new six page form from the bank's Web site filled out, my hardship letter, two pay stubs, two month's bank statements, lease agreement, sales comps and 2008 taxes.

Because my fax machine is a bit challenges with more than a single sheet of paper, I was planning on taking this over to the local UPS store when I got out where they have a high-tech machine that actually can handle more than one piece of paper.

June 2 10:15

Through some sort of bizarre psychic premonition Olivia called (whom I guarantee her first language was not English). In her opening breath, completely bypassing all social niceties, she identified herself as a person from my mortgage company, asked me to tell her the address of my home and my social security number.

Me: Which home?
Olivia: The one you have with us.
Marty Sunshine (who is standing in the background seeing the purly puzzled look on my face): What is this about?
Me (to Marty Sunshine): Some woman is calling asking me to tell us our address and asking for our social security numbers to confirm who we say we are--even though she called us.
Olivia (hearing this): Wait! I am calling about your loan modification.

Olivia then repeats the address of the home where the loan modification paperwork is still sitting on my desk.

Apparently my "dead" file has somehow made it to Olivia's hands months later and she wanted to tell me I needed to go to their Web site and download new forms so that I can resubmit my request for approval. After not getting very far asking about how this "dead" file managed to get into her hands, I decided to see about the future. What I really wanted to know was how this processs works for an investment property.

Olivia didn't know. However, she was kind enough to find out. After putting me on hold for an eternity Olivia came back and told me the bank would not work with investors.

According to the representative I spoke with on May 1, the bank was handling investor loan modifications. According to the bank's Web site the bank is handling investor loan modifications. According to Olivia who called me out of the blue the bank isn't touching them.

I don't know what to believe. But, I can tell you this: A lot of time when into getting together all of the papers necessary and I am not giving up now. By golly if I had to fill it out, they have to read it.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

The Carolsue Gang

Well, Carolsue seems to think there are big-time issues at the 508s. I am not saying I don't believe her. I just can't do much about until I had something concrete to go on--like rent being late.

In fact, Mr. Partner, who has been apprised of Carolsue's theories, and I are of one mind: while we are getting rent, let the rent come in and then deal with everything else eventually. Meanwhile I checked on Monday. Legal Eagle is still recused.

Rent is now late. So, Carolsue is heading over tomorrow to slap a lease termination notice on their door. She is also slapping an inspection notice on their door. An inspection notice says because there are lease violations (in this case tall grass), me or my representatives will inspect the property on Monday, June 8 at 10 a.m.

My representatives are Carolsue and her gang of merry inspectors. She has Baseball Guy, Jon (her nephew) and Andy, the convicted-murderer-turned-lawn-guy. Between the four of them, they should be able to tell me what is going on.