I sent Legal Eagle my file on Mrs. Martin Wednesday. I followed up with a note yesterday. I told her to please let Mrs. Martin know I plan to garnish her wages. I will file criminal charges if the house is damaged. I will no longer negotiate, she is being evicted. There is no more love. On top of that, Legal Eagle will tell her not to call me.
I would be willing to bet my stash of Starburst jelly beans (and you can only get those once a year) that I will get a text message, phone call, fax or e-mail from Mrs. Martin as soon as she is served. After she explains she doesn't owe me as much as I say she does (because she has conveniently forgotten), she will then ask for mercy and tell me when she is next sending money in.
If Mrs. Martin just moves out instead, it will be worth loosing my jelly beans.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Landlording Basics
Today's Landlord Primer has to do with college students. When I say "college student" I am referring to someone in the 18 to 23 year old range who attends an institution of higher learning as their primary vocation. I am not referring to someone taking night school classes and working full time or someone (generally over 30) who has already had a career and a family and is going back to school.
I happen to think college students need a place to live just like anyone else. In fact, they have many options available to them that the average family doesn't have, including mom and dad and a dorm room. But, usually those aren't choices the student is looking for.
I understand everyone is different and there are probably wonderful people in this age bracket--some I would even consider renting to under the right circumstance. But the idea of six young people living under one roof with no other commitments does not bode well with me.
Let's say for a moment a college student wants to rent my home with three of his buddies. Between the four of them they can break up the rent to a small, manageable chunk each. This would give them left over money for the electricity, water, gas bills and beer. I am afraid they still wouldn't be renting from me. There are many landlords who don't mind students. I just don't happen to be one of them.
Students generally stay for a year or less. Despite their best of intentions, students really don't know what will be going on from one semester to the next. What if one of the residents on the lease wants to change schools? If that person bails, the other three are still responsible for the lease. And what if this person moves out and the enterprising roommates get another person to occupy that empty room. And, if the new tenant (who is not on the lease) doesn't work out and does considerable damage to the home, the other three are still liable for the damage.
That said, if a collage student only stays for a year, this puts the landlord in the predicament of having to revamp the property at the end of the lease and start the process over. Repairs, renovations and loss of rent are costly. I might have mentioned that a time or two.
As a whole, college students aren't domestic. When my brother was about 19 or so, he once roomed with three of his closest buddies. I went to visit once and found the trash piled high in the corner. My brother explained that it was Patrick's turn to take it out, so nobody else was touching it. Patrick had been out of town for two weeks.
College students don't generally have tools available to make minor repairs. So, if the door knob falls off, there is a greater probability of them letting the door knob stay off and just nudging the door open with their knee or foot. This action will eventually lead to a hole in the door. So, an $8.00 door knob repair becomes a $250 door replacement.
That said, once the door has been damaged, what is the motivation for them keeping the place up? They already know they aren't getting their deposit back. Why not play catch with a shot put and juggle the flame thrower in the living room?
What a student lacks in domestic, they probably make up for in social. As a landlord, it isn't comforting to hear from one of the neighbors because the tenants threw a wild party the night before. The police came. People were bungie jumping from the roof. There was underage drinking. And someone left their zebra on the front lawn.
College students usually haven't established credit. And, most likely they don't have a long-term job the landlord could garnish if necessary. To make up for this unfortunate situation, landlords find cosigners for the students. The cosigners tend to be the parents. A cosigner is the one who guarantees the rent and the condition of the property if their child doesn't hold up their end of the bargain.
On the occasions I have required a cosigner, I have insisted on having someone who lives in the state my properties are in. It is much harder to go after a cosigner if they are in North Dakota and my tenant is not. I also do my standard credit/background/eviction search on the cosigner. Additionally, I will ask for an employment verification.
As a real estate agent I have seen many properties near Arizona State that have suffered the "student rental" curse. These houses, though repaired, still have battle scars of students past. There are patched walls, low quality fixtures (faucets, towel bars, ceiling fans) that look like they were recently replaced and a bungie rope dangling from the balcony. The landlord is ready to rerent the homes, but the properties don't have an inviting feel.
The landlords I have met who do rent to students charge a premium. The deposits are higher. The rent is higher. I have the utmost respect to any landlord who is willing to go this route. I just don't have the stomach lining to handle it.
I happen to think college students need a place to live just like anyone else. In fact, they have many options available to them that the average family doesn't have, including mom and dad and a dorm room. But, usually those aren't choices the student is looking for.
I understand everyone is different and there are probably wonderful people in this age bracket--some I would even consider renting to under the right circumstance. But the idea of six young people living under one roof with no other commitments does not bode well with me.
Let's say for a moment a college student wants to rent my home with three of his buddies. Between the four of them they can break up the rent to a small, manageable chunk each. This would give them left over money for the electricity, water, gas bills and beer. I am afraid they still wouldn't be renting from me. There are many landlords who don't mind students. I just don't happen to be one of them.
Students generally stay for a year or less. Despite their best of intentions, students really don't know what will be going on from one semester to the next. What if one of the residents on the lease wants to change schools? If that person bails, the other three are still responsible for the lease. And what if this person moves out and the enterprising roommates get another person to occupy that empty room. And, if the new tenant (who is not on the lease) doesn't work out and does considerable damage to the home, the other three are still liable for the damage.
That said, if a collage student only stays for a year, this puts the landlord in the predicament of having to revamp the property at the end of the lease and start the process over. Repairs, renovations and loss of rent are costly. I might have mentioned that a time or two.
As a whole, college students aren't domestic. When my brother was about 19 or so, he once roomed with three of his closest buddies. I went to visit once and found the trash piled high in the corner. My brother explained that it was Patrick's turn to take it out, so nobody else was touching it. Patrick had been out of town for two weeks.
College students don't generally have tools available to make minor repairs. So, if the door knob falls off, there is a greater probability of them letting the door knob stay off and just nudging the door open with their knee or foot. This action will eventually lead to a hole in the door. So, an $8.00 door knob repair becomes a $250 door replacement.
That said, once the door has been damaged, what is the motivation for them keeping the place up? They already know they aren't getting their deposit back. Why not play catch with a shot put and juggle the flame thrower in the living room?
What a student lacks in domestic, they probably make up for in social. As a landlord, it isn't comforting to hear from one of the neighbors because the tenants threw a wild party the night before. The police came. People were bungie jumping from the roof. There was underage drinking. And someone left their zebra on the front lawn.
College students usually haven't established credit. And, most likely they don't have a long-term job the landlord could garnish if necessary. To make up for this unfortunate situation, landlords find cosigners for the students. The cosigners tend to be the parents. A cosigner is the one who guarantees the rent and the condition of the property if their child doesn't hold up their end of the bargain.
On the occasions I have required a cosigner, I have insisted on having someone who lives in the state my properties are in. It is much harder to go after a cosigner if they are in North Dakota and my tenant is not. I also do my standard credit/background/eviction search on the cosigner. Additionally, I will ask for an employment verification.
As a real estate agent I have seen many properties near Arizona State that have suffered the "student rental" curse. These houses, though repaired, still have battle scars of students past. There are patched walls, low quality fixtures (faucets, towel bars, ceiling fans) that look like they were recently replaced and a bungie rope dangling from the balcony. The landlord is ready to rerent the homes, but the properties don't have an inviting feel.
The landlords I have met who do rent to students charge a premium. The deposits are higher. The rent is higher. I have the utmost respect to any landlord who is willing to go this route. I just don't have the stomach lining to handle it.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Street Cred
"Street Cred" is a term introduced to me by a friend of mine (who happens to be my age--that is, old enough to clearly remember 1978). Although I am not certain, I am under the impression it is a legitimate slang phrase.
Today I met someone else who apparently was familiar with this phrase. Ms. Kathy called because there seems to be some sort of electrical issue in her home. The poor woman was in a panic because she was afraid the entire house would need to be rewired (which, in my estimation, seems to be the overall conclusion people jump to when anything electrical comes up).
At any rate, I told Ms. Kathy to call my favorite Alabama electrician, explain who she rented from (me) and what the problem was. He would be able to help her out. "You have street cred?" she asked. I certainly hoped I still did.
Personally, I wasn't sure how much credibility I still had with them. I am sure my credibility would be much higher if I had been paying a little more quickly in the last quarter of 2008, but nevertheless, I opted to have Ms. Kathy test the waters.
It turns out I am still ok. Mike the Electrician gave Ms. Kathy a quick over the phone diagnosis--most likely a loose wire inside an outlet, causing all of the other outlets not to work too (or something along those lines). Think pulling out a lamp cord too roughly out of the socket and loosening the internal wiring. That was what I had pretty much figured was the case.
Experience tells me a loose wire often is the offending issue when all things electrical come up. Though, I must tell you, there was a time when I thought "rewire" too. But that was before managing a gazillion homes in Alabama. Which brings up another interesting bit of trivia: I never needed an electrician until I started managing a gazillion homes in Alabama and now I am on my fourth. But, I digress...
After confirming with Ms. Kathy Mike and his band of Merry Electricians would be heading over to her home later this week, I called their office. In the past, they have always billed me instead of asking for a credit card over the phone. I was hoping they still thought enough of me to do this again.
It turns out I am still on the electrician's tolerable client list. "Ms. Landlord," Becky the Billing Goddess said, "Your credit is good with us."
Today I met someone else who apparently was familiar with this phrase. Ms. Kathy called because there seems to be some sort of electrical issue in her home. The poor woman was in a panic because she was afraid the entire house would need to be rewired (which, in my estimation, seems to be the overall conclusion people jump to when anything electrical comes up).
At any rate, I told Ms. Kathy to call my favorite Alabama electrician, explain who she rented from (me) and what the problem was. He would be able to help her out. "You have street cred?" she asked. I certainly hoped I still did.
Personally, I wasn't sure how much credibility I still had with them. I am sure my credibility would be much higher if I had been paying a little more quickly in the last quarter of 2008, but nevertheless, I opted to have Ms. Kathy test the waters.
It turns out I am still ok. Mike the Electrician gave Ms. Kathy a quick over the phone diagnosis--most likely a loose wire inside an outlet, causing all of the other outlets not to work too (or something along those lines). Think pulling out a lamp cord too roughly out of the socket and loosening the internal wiring. That was what I had pretty much figured was the case.
Experience tells me a loose wire often is the offending issue when all things electrical come up. Though, I must tell you, there was a time when I thought "rewire" too. But that was before managing a gazillion homes in Alabama. Which brings up another interesting bit of trivia: I never needed an electrician until I started managing a gazillion homes in Alabama and now I am on my fourth. But, I digress...
After confirming with Ms. Kathy Mike and his band of Merry Electricians would be heading over to her home later this week, I called their office. In the past, they have always billed me instead of asking for a credit card over the phone. I was hoping they still thought enough of me to do this again.
It turns out I am still on the electrician's tolerable client list. "Ms. Landlord," Becky the Billing Goddess said, "Your credit is good with us."
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Today's Shout Out
Happy Birthday to Carolsue.
Many years ago I got an e-mail from Carolsue, who was helping Baseball Guy find a place to live. Who knew that e-mail would spark a friendship? Carolsue has been a strong advocate. Her assistance and advice is invaluable and I would not have made it through last year's nightmare without her. I am truly blessed.
Many years ago I got an e-mail from Carolsue, who was helping Baseball Guy find a place to live. Who knew that e-mail would spark a friendship? Carolsue has been a strong advocate. Her assistance and advice is invaluable and I would not have made it through last year's nightmare without her. I am truly blessed.
Monday, April 06, 2009
The Ugly Side
I assure you, nobody has ever accurately accused me of being a bleeding heart. It doesn't mean I don't feel sadness when I have to evict someone. I hate it. I really do. And, it isn't just the isn't just the attorney fees I am talking about. I hate the process. I hate the emotional energy spent on this process.
I hate being put in a position where I have to force someone out on the street. What an awful feeling that is. Even if they deserve it. Even if they owe the money. Even if this experience might be the best thing that happened to them because they now have a chance to start over and live within their means. It doesn't stop me from cringing when I think about it.
I think about their children who need a sense of security. How awful that must be to have to pack up and move. Those kids are probably given little explanation or they are told the mean landlord has it out for them. I hate seeing kids uprooted under these situations. Even more, I hate seeing kids have to live with the poor choices their parents have made.
I think about the energy around that family when they are being evicted. It can't be peaceful in that home. It doesn't matter if it is an extended family situation or a single mom. The stress must be terrible. They probably aren't just loosing their home. Most people make it a priority to pay the rent first. There are probably other bills too. There are probably bill collectors calling. The stress must be terrible.
I think about what kind of Karma someone in this situation leaves behind. Wayward's Karma was so bad she threw a bunch of her nasty Karma my direction. Fortunately, Mr. Smith didn't leave me the headache Wayward left me. Instead, Mr. Smith left me on the financial brink. The Good Pastor left me a messy house. And given his belief system, I suspect there will be Someone taking care of him eventually. I don't want these people to leave their bad Karma in my home for the next person to have to deal with. Nor do I want thier Karma following me around.
I hate being put in a position where I have to force someone out on the street. What an awful feeling that is. Even if they deserve it. Even if they owe the money. Even if this experience might be the best thing that happened to them because they now have a chance to start over and live within their means. It doesn't stop me from cringing when I think about it.
I think about their children who need a sense of security. How awful that must be to have to pack up and move. Those kids are probably given little explanation or they are told the mean landlord has it out for them. I hate seeing kids uprooted under these situations. Even more, I hate seeing kids have to live with the poor choices their parents have made.
I think about the energy around that family when they are being evicted. It can't be peaceful in that home. It doesn't matter if it is an extended family situation or a single mom. The stress must be terrible. They probably aren't just loosing their home. Most people make it a priority to pay the rent first. There are probably other bills too. There are probably bill collectors calling. The stress must be terrible.
I think about what kind of Karma someone in this situation leaves behind. Wayward's Karma was so bad she threw a bunch of her nasty Karma my direction. Fortunately, Mr. Smith didn't leave me the headache Wayward left me. Instead, Mr. Smith left me on the financial brink. The Good Pastor left me a messy house. And given his belief system, I suspect there will be Someone taking care of him eventually. I don't want these people to leave their bad Karma in my home for the next person to have to deal with. Nor do I want thier Karma following me around.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
When All Bets Are Off
There is a period of time between when I decide I am through and the tenant realizes I am through. Sometimes it is a split second. Sometimes, as in the case of Mr. Smith, it is about six weeks.
Most of the time when I reach this point, the tenant figures it out in a few days. And the reason why is they have received a second notice saying next time I see them will be in front of a judge.
I think the period from when I have decided they will no longer live there and before they realize they are moving is a lull. There is some notion floating through their imagination that I have somehow backed off and am ok with the current arrangement. That by the Grace of all that is Holy, they have gotten an answer to their prayer--a reprieve until the next time I call. Phew. Sadly, what they don't understand is that I won't speak to them any more. The next communication and all communications from this point forward are with Legal Eagle.
Generally as the realization that really-for-true-no-kidding-yep-this-eviction-is-happening hits, they do one of three actions. Either they will contact me asking for mercy, they will move or they will make me evict them. You may ask Wayward how well waiting for the eviction to works. She has a good portion of her paycheck going to Legal Eagle every month.
I am not sure if Mrs. Martin fully realizes I am done. In my text I told her so. She wrote me back, giving me a sob story and sketchy payment plan that she has proven she won't follow. I suspect she really does think I am running a charity.
Most of the time when I reach this point, the tenant figures it out in a few days. And the reason why is they have received a second notice saying next time I see them will be in front of a judge.
I think the period from when I have decided they will no longer live there and before they realize they are moving is a lull. There is some notion floating through their imagination that I have somehow backed off and am ok with the current arrangement. That by the Grace of all that is Holy, they have gotten an answer to their prayer--a reprieve until the next time I call. Phew. Sadly, what they don't understand is that I won't speak to them any more. The next communication and all communications from this point forward are with Legal Eagle.
Generally as the realization that really-for-true-no-kidding-yep-this-eviction-is-happening hits, they do one of three actions. Either they will contact me asking for mercy, they will move or they will make me evict them. You may ask Wayward how well waiting for the eviction to works. She has a good portion of her paycheck going to Legal Eagle every month.
I am not sure if Mrs. Martin fully realizes I am done. In my text I told her so. She wrote me back, giving me a sob story and sketchy payment plan that she has proven she won't follow. I suspect she really does think I am running a charity.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Hell Hath No Wrath Like a Landlord Scorned
The Liar Mrs. Martin, sent me a pity check. Essentially she sent me half the rent along with an incoherent note saying the rest will come eventually.
Oh, it will come. In a wage garnishment. I already called Legal Eagle.
Oh, it will come. In a wage garnishment. I already called Legal Eagle.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
What are the Odds?
A long time ago, a tenant called me just to inform me her house got struck by lightening. Twice. Within a 24 hour time span. I immediately told her to hang up and go buy a lottery ticket.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Diamond Jim
Many, many years ago, I hired Erin the Unscrupulous Bookkeeper. Two months into our one month business relationship, she had given me three things: a migraine headache, the name of the best CPA this side of the Rockies and enough evidence against her that the Arizona Attorney General's Office had no problem seeing my point of view when it became ugly.
I don't miss Erin or the migraine. I got my money back and now have the ever-so-terrific Bliz handling my books (as long as she will put up with me). I also still have Diamond Jim, my CPA.
Diamond Jim has been handling my taxes and that of our business since the day I met him. My only complaint is last year he and his wife moved to nowhere Oregon to semi-retire. However, his client base rebelled and he opted to spend tax season away from Mrs. Diamond and down here with us Phoenicians instead. It was probably for the best, I don't think Diamond Jim's wife was ready to have all of Jim's clients camping on their front yard waiting for their 1040s to be filled out. And, I don't think Jim's clientele were ready to part to part with him either.
Part of what I don't like about tax season is running interference between Mr. Partner and Diamond Jim--knowing that Jim works much better when he is not getting 2,000 calls a day from Mr. Partner asking for his forms.
This year, like every year, Mr. Partner started asking questions about when he could expect his tax documents from Diamond Jim. Of course, this is a natural question, given Uncle Sam has some pretty tight deadlines coming up. I did what I do every year when faced with this issue, I took Mr. Partner's question and shot it over to Diamond Jim. Jim in turn, gave me an answer. I, in turn, told Mr. Partner Jim's answer but added an extra week. This was credibility insurance. I sometimes find it is better to extend Mr. Partner's expectations.
It is probably a good thing I did. Diamond Jim had to leave town last Thursday morning. And, as of last Wednesday morning, he was still working on our complicated taxes. But he did promise it would be done before he got on the plane.
Through the course of last Wednesday, Diamond Jim called asking for all sorts of additional information. I gladly obliged. Meanwhile, I was dodging Mr. Partner's calls and e-mails. Somewhere in there I offered to bring Jim dinner so he could work straight through. I am sure I am not Jim's biggest client, but I know how to take care of my vendors (and in this case, friends).
Thursday morning, before the chickens were up, I hauled myself out of bed and headed over to Diamond Jim's office to grab Mr. Partner's forms, the returns for the State of Arizona, State of Alabama and the Federal Government's. All polished gems.
I don't miss Erin or the migraine. I got my money back and now have the ever-so-terrific Bliz handling my books (as long as she will put up with me). I also still have Diamond Jim, my CPA.
Diamond Jim has been handling my taxes and that of our business since the day I met him. My only complaint is last year he and his wife moved to nowhere Oregon to semi-retire. However, his client base rebelled and he opted to spend tax season away from Mrs. Diamond and down here with us Phoenicians instead. It was probably for the best, I don't think Diamond Jim's wife was ready to have all of Jim's clients camping on their front yard waiting for their 1040s to be filled out. And, I don't think Jim's clientele were ready to part to part with him either.
Part of what I don't like about tax season is running interference between Mr. Partner and Diamond Jim--knowing that Jim works much better when he is not getting 2,000 calls a day from Mr. Partner asking for his forms.
This year, like every year, Mr. Partner started asking questions about when he could expect his tax documents from Diamond Jim. Of course, this is a natural question, given Uncle Sam has some pretty tight deadlines coming up. I did what I do every year when faced with this issue, I took Mr. Partner's question and shot it over to Diamond Jim. Jim in turn, gave me an answer. I, in turn, told Mr. Partner Jim's answer but added an extra week. This was credibility insurance. I sometimes find it is better to extend Mr. Partner's expectations.
It is probably a good thing I did. Diamond Jim had to leave town last Thursday morning. And, as of last Wednesday morning, he was still working on our complicated taxes. But he did promise it would be done before he got on the plane.
Through the course of last Wednesday, Diamond Jim called asking for all sorts of additional information. I gladly obliged. Meanwhile, I was dodging Mr. Partner's calls and e-mails. Somewhere in there I offered to bring Jim dinner so he could work straight through. I am sure I am not Jim's biggest client, but I know how to take care of my vendors (and in this case, friends).
Thursday morning, before the chickens were up, I hauled myself out of bed and headed over to Diamond Jim's office to grab Mr. Partner's forms, the returns for the State of Arizona, State of Alabama and the Federal Government's. All polished gems.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
The Latest Surreal Phone Call
Mrs. 508's outlook is looking up! Now, before we go any farther, can we all take just a moment to knock on wood that I didn't just jinx it. I am not a superstitious person by nature--or I wasn't one until I met Mrs. 508.
Not only is Mrs. 508 doing much better (she had a lot to share with me--very little was related to the rental home or her rent), but she wanted to know if she could pay me next month's rent in advance! I believe my answer was "yes." Or at least I hope I said that after the smelling salts were administered.
Mrs. 508 also tells me the couch sitting in her yard will be gone sometime soon. I hope so. But, lucky for her, I don't have the energy to deal with non-immaculate tenants who pay early.
Not only is Mrs. 508 doing much better (she had a lot to share with me--very little was related to the rental home or her rent), but she wanted to know if she could pay me next month's rent in advance! I believe my answer was "yes." Or at least I hope I said that after the smelling salts were administered.
Mrs. 508 also tells me the couch sitting in her yard will be gone sometime soon. I hope so. But, lucky for her, I don't have the energy to deal with non-immaculate tenants who pay early.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Surprise
To say Mrs. Martin was flabbergasted she was served is an understatement.
Because she will only text me, I can't really have a meaningful, insightful conversation with her. Which is fine by me. I don't really have much in the meaningful category to add at this point.
The one major point of her text was that she sent her rent check out on Sunday (insert raised skeptical eye here). If that is the case, Mrs. Martin will get to stay until we go through this maddening game the next time.
What blows me away is from what I can tell, she never expected me to "turn on her." In fact, that is how she phrased it. I am not sure what that means exactly. Was I supposed to sit back and let her take advantage of me? Was I supposed to accept her excuses? In her text, she told me that she "guesses" she will "stay current" until she can find a place to live. What a novel idea!
Except I think the "find a place to live" comment was a veiled threat that she was planning to move out. Darn! No more games with Mrs. Martin. Well, if she leaves the place clean and I find a renter right away, I may not even garnish her wages. If not, all bets are off.
Because she will only text me, I can't really have a meaningful, insightful conversation with her. Which is fine by me. I don't really have much in the meaningful category to add at this point.
The one major point of her text was that she sent her rent check out on Sunday (insert raised skeptical eye here). If that is the case, Mrs. Martin will get to stay until we go through this maddening game the next time.
What blows me away is from what I can tell, she never expected me to "turn on her." In fact, that is how she phrased it. I am not sure what that means exactly. Was I supposed to sit back and let her take advantage of me? Was I supposed to accept her excuses? In her text, she told me that she "guesses" she will "stay current" until she can find a place to live. What a novel idea!
Except I think the "find a place to live" comment was a veiled threat that she was planning to move out. Darn! No more games with Mrs. Martin. Well, if she leaves the place clean and I find a renter right away, I may not even garnish her wages. If not, all bets are off.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Imaculate
A friend commented I mention my good tenants keep the exterior of their homes immaculate. I hadn't really thought of the implications to that until she pointed it out.
When I drive by, I check at how the property looks compared to the neighborhood. I don't want my homes looking like the rental abomination on the street. I don't get to see the inside of the property unless I have a contractor go over or I am somehow invited in. So, I can only make guesses based on what I can see from the street.
So, "immaculate" means the yard is well-kept. There aren't dead cars or dead science projects visible in the back yard. The property isn't overrun with weeds two feet high. Rats are an issue in Birmingham and they like to live in tall grass. When they get hungry the move out of the tall grass and into homes. It means the neighbors aren't complaining about an eyesore of a home. From what I can tell, the place doesn't need major repairs from neglect or the tenant running their car into a fence or exterior wall.
If the house is lived-in on the inside, I am totally fine with that. My house is lived-in!
I just don't want the place to look like it is falling apart. I want to keep my investments in good condition.
When I drive by, I check at how the property looks compared to the neighborhood. I don't want my homes looking like the rental abomination on the street. I don't get to see the inside of the property unless I have a contractor go over or I am somehow invited in. So, I can only make guesses based on what I can see from the street.
So, "immaculate" means the yard is well-kept. There aren't dead cars or dead science projects visible in the back yard. The property isn't overrun with weeds two feet high. Rats are an issue in Birmingham and they like to live in tall grass. When they get hungry the move out of the tall grass and into homes. It means the neighbors aren't complaining about an eyesore of a home. From what I can tell, the place doesn't need major repairs from neglect or the tenant running their car into a fence or exterior wall.
If the house is lived-in on the inside, I am totally fine with that. My house is lived-in!
I just don't want the place to look like it is falling apart. I want to keep my investments in good condition.
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Truth Will Set You Free (of a Place to Live)
A few weeks ago Mrs. Martin voluntarily told me she was sending the rent. When it never showed up, she said she was sending a second rent check, because I never received the first.
What are the odds we believe cash-strapped untruthful Mrs. Martin really did just happen to pop a "second check" in the mail? Maybe slightly higher than a blizzard here in Mesa Arizona next August?
On Thursday I texted Mrs. Martin (because she refuses to take my calls or respond to my e-mail) to ask what day she sent the second check. I got a slightly incoherent text back saying she owed someone money so she will send the full rent next week on payday.
Yea she owes someone money. Me! And maybe the only person she should feel a greater responsibility to paying first is maybe Guido the Knee-Breaking Loan Shark. Maybe. As a mother, I have to tell you, I would pay for the roof over my kids' heads first before I paid Guido. But, that is just me.
But no matter, Mrs. Martin sealed her own fate with that note of truthfulness. I am not running a charity. My patience packed its bags and left town months ago. Instead I opted to show her exactly what I thought of her tremendous display of honesty and lack of regard for a place to live. She is being served an eviction notice.
By Alabama law, she has 10 days to get me the rent--which happens to fall into the timeline she has promised it to me. If I don't get it, we all know what happens then.
What are the odds we believe cash-strapped untruthful Mrs. Martin really did just happen to pop a "second check" in the mail? Maybe slightly higher than a blizzard here in Mesa Arizona next August?
On Thursday I texted Mrs. Martin (because she refuses to take my calls or respond to my e-mail) to ask what day she sent the second check. I got a slightly incoherent text back saying she owed someone money so she will send the full rent next week on payday.
Yea she owes someone money. Me! And maybe the only person she should feel a greater responsibility to paying first is maybe Guido the Knee-Breaking Loan Shark. Maybe. As a mother, I have to tell you, I would pay for the roof over my kids' heads first before I paid Guido. But, that is just me.
But no matter, Mrs. Martin sealed her own fate with that note of truthfulness. I am not running a charity. My patience packed its bags and left town months ago. Instead I opted to show her exactly what I thought of her tremendous display of honesty and lack of regard for a place to live. She is being served an eviction notice.
By Alabama law, she has 10 days to get me the rent--which happens to fall into the timeline she has promised it to me. If I don't get it, we all know what happens then.
Whoppers
Very early in my Alabama landlord career, Mr. Smith told me he deposited his rent--in cash--into my bank account. The money didn't show in my account. When I asked him about it, he told me that he couldn't find the receipt but assured me the money was there.
After the bank searched for two days, they couldn't trace that transaction. I brought this to Mr. Smith's attention. He offered to redeposit the money into my account (this time with a cashier's check and he gave me a receipt). He calmly explained when the first rent money he deposited finally showed up, just let him know and I could pay him back.
Now, if the bank lost that kind of money, I wouldn't be that calm. I would be raising all kinds of hell. Not Mr. Smith. He never flinched.
When this happened, I marveled at how someone could blatently lie and expect to get away with it. Knowing him the way I do, I am certain he really thought I believed his story--and still do.
There is no point in questioning the integrity of a liar. You already know the answer. Instead of Mr. Smith just saying, "Hey, I will get you the rent three days later" (which is what this ordeal amounted to), he told a whopper, completely discrediting himself, damaging any future relationship and ensuring I thought him a liar.
Most of my tenants tell the truth about rent. I am more likely to hear, "I will get it to you Tuesday" than I am to hear, "I sent it" when they really didn't. If they just aren't going to pay up, they don't call me back or go to any effort.
I will rarely call someone a liar. And, I am darn sure of this standing before I do. I don't believe for a moment Mrs. Martin sent me a check a couple of weeks ago like she said she did. She may have sent one last week. Or, she may have sent one this week after I suggested in my voice mail that she was a bit lacking on the truth. If I am wrong, I will post it.
The difference between Mr. Smith and Mrs. Martin is that Mrs. Martin didn't start out this way. There was a time when if she said something, it was true. Now her credibiity is gone. She may have the best of intentions. And she may be on the straight and narrow path from this point forward. But, I will never know. She will always be from here on out, a tenant who didn't tell the truth.
After the bank searched for two days, they couldn't trace that transaction. I brought this to Mr. Smith's attention. He offered to redeposit the money into my account (this time with a cashier's check and he gave me a receipt). He calmly explained when the first rent money he deposited finally showed up, just let him know and I could pay him back.
Now, if the bank lost that kind of money, I wouldn't be that calm. I would be raising all kinds of hell. Not Mr. Smith. He never flinched.
When this happened, I marveled at how someone could blatently lie and expect to get away with it. Knowing him the way I do, I am certain he really thought I believed his story--and still do.
There is no point in questioning the integrity of a liar. You already know the answer. Instead of Mr. Smith just saying, "Hey, I will get you the rent three days later" (which is what this ordeal amounted to), he told a whopper, completely discrediting himself, damaging any future relationship and ensuring I thought him a liar.
Most of my tenants tell the truth about rent. I am more likely to hear, "I will get it to you Tuesday" than I am to hear, "I sent it" when they really didn't. If they just aren't going to pay up, they don't call me back or go to any effort.
I will rarely call someone a liar. And, I am darn sure of this standing before I do. I don't believe for a moment Mrs. Martin sent me a check a couple of weeks ago like she said she did. She may have sent one last week. Or, she may have sent one this week after I suggested in my voice mail that she was a bit lacking on the truth. If I am wrong, I will post it.
The difference between Mr. Smith and Mrs. Martin is that Mrs. Martin didn't start out this way. There was a time when if she said something, it was true. Now her credibiity is gone. She may have the best of intentions. And she may be on the straight and narrow path from this point forward. But, I will never know. She will always be from here on out, a tenant who didn't tell the truth.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I So Need a *^%@* Vacation
Wednesday, I sent an exaggeratedly terse e-mail to a mortgagee I never hear from, accusing them of not being current. Apparently they are. Oops. My bad. Yes, I apologized. Yes I am an idiot. Yes, I need a vacation.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Good Bye to Him and Good Luck to Us
My current favorite tenant is leaving--which looses him favorite tenant status. He rents out the house Jack and I own together. He is one of my favorites because his rent is always early, he doesn't call me when the bathroom towel bar falls off and every time I drive by the place is immaculate.
He is leaving for financial reasons. And, he has been pretty great about the whole thing, offering to clean it before he goes and even offering to show it.
I don't want him showing it to potential tenants. Who knows if I am his favorite landlord. Or, if he has a long-standing personality issue with Jack. Or if the dishwasher never worked right and he forgot to mention it and bothers to tell the new potential tenant. Or if he manipulated me somehow and I didn't know it and here are some potential tips for the next tenant. But the real reason is Jack and I are licensed agents and we want to keep our licenses. That means we show it--or more to the point, Jack shows it. Safer that way.
Jack has already listed the house on Craig's list and put it on our own web site. Hopefully it won't be vacant too long.
He is leaving for financial reasons. And, he has been pretty great about the whole thing, offering to clean it before he goes and even offering to show it.
I don't want him showing it to potential tenants. Who knows if I am his favorite landlord. Or, if he has a long-standing personality issue with Jack. Or if the dishwasher never worked right and he forgot to mention it and bothers to tell the new potential tenant. Or if he manipulated me somehow and I didn't know it and here are some potential tips for the next tenant. But the real reason is Jack and I are licensed agents and we want to keep our licenses. That means we show it--or more to the point, Jack shows it. Safer that way.
Jack has already listed the house on Craig's list and put it on our own web site. Hopefully it won't be vacant too long.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Belligerent Toddlers
I am convinced that my motherhood training has ultimately led me to this moment--dealing with my terrible twosome. Just like my own kids, one needs a stronger hand, one needs a gentler hand, same with Mr. Richards and Mrs. Martin.
I heard from both tenants on Monday. Mr. Richards called to tell me yes, he sent the rent. Here is when I could expect the next installment. As far as he was concered, he was ready for me to give him a gold star.
I also heard from Mrs. Martin, who, like every other month for the past several, can't seem to figure out where the stamp goes on the envelope, what my mailing address happens to be and where a post office is located in her city.
However, yesterday's voice mail apparently scared her enough that she is now going to send me a "second check" which is a loan from her parents. The "second check" is because I didn't get the "first check" that she voluntarily said she sent two weeks ago and I still haven't received. I should get this "second check" later this week. And, would I please call her immediately when this "second check" comes in because she would like to leave the time-out corner.
I heard from both tenants on Monday. Mr. Richards called to tell me yes, he sent the rent. Here is when I could expect the next installment. As far as he was concered, he was ready for me to give him a gold star.
I also heard from Mrs. Martin, who, like every other month for the past several, can't seem to figure out where the stamp goes on the envelope, what my mailing address happens to be and where a post office is located in her city.
However, yesterday's voice mail apparently scared her enough that she is now going to send me a "second check" which is a loan from her parents. The "second check" is because I didn't get the "first check" that she voluntarily said she sent two weeks ago and I still haven't received. I should get this "second check" later this week. And, would I please call her immediately when this "second check" comes in because she would like to leave the time-out corner.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Ok, This Wasn't Me
Just for the record...
A woman called Dave Ramsey's radio show today. She has 14 properties in Birmingham Alabama and was at the end of her rope. She had a lot of drama around her situation. Things are breaking. Renters are not paying. Property values have dropped. She was ready to "give up" and go bankrupt. Her call to Dave Ramsey was to ask what she should do.
I did not make this call. I have mostly good renters. I am not giving up--even if property values are down. My drama is condensed to Ms. Betty's latest antics. If all else fails, I have my theraputic blog.
I don't know the ins and outs of her situation, but I suspect there is more to her story and her decisions than the two minute call. All the best to her.
A woman called Dave Ramsey's radio show today. She has 14 properties in Birmingham Alabama and was at the end of her rope. She had a lot of drama around her situation. Things are breaking. Renters are not paying. Property values have dropped. She was ready to "give up" and go bankrupt. Her call to Dave Ramsey was to ask what she should do.
I did not make this call. I have mostly good renters. I am not giving up--even if property values are down. My drama is condensed to Ms. Betty's latest antics. If all else fails, I have my theraputic blog.
I don't know the ins and outs of her situation, but I suspect there is more to her story and her decisions than the two minute call. All the best to her.
Southern Speak
I can't believe I said this.
While speaking to James, the Hell's-Angels-Turned-Carpet-Installer today, I was telling him I want a quote on my soon to be vacant home. I said, "My tenant is moving out in a few weeks. So, sit tight and I will holler at you in due time."
While speaking to James, the Hell's-Angels-Turned-Carpet-Installer today, I was telling him I want a quote on my soon to be vacant home. I said, "My tenant is moving out in a few weeks. So, sit tight and I will holler at you in due time."
The Terrible Twosome
As I am writing this, it is quite possible my three readers will deem me stupid or naive or both. It isn't that they wouldn't be accurate. Those thoughts certainly have gone through my mind.
However, there is a method to my madness. Essentially: it is easier to threaten, cajole and badger than it is to pay for an eviction. Besides, experience tells me everything seems to work out in the long run. Though not always in my favor.
Last Friday I woke up with the same feeling of dread I always get when I have to deal with Mrs. Martin and Mr. Richards. My real feeling is Mr. Richards will be ok. Only if I nag him to the point he pays up. The jury is out on Mrs. Martin.
Mr. Richards was supposed to pay me the latest installment of rent on the 20th (yes, he has paid me since my last posting about him). On Friday I called to confirm it was coming. I still haven't heard back. I called again today and repeated my message, also reiterating if I did not hear from him I would have him served and that would cost him as well. So, call back and tell me you sent it or give me a ton of excuses as to why not. Just call back.
When I call Mr. Richards, I am always very careful to be polite. Even when I am seriously annoyed, I am polite. My feeling is once the gloves are off with this man, the relationship will immediately deteriorate. So, if I keep it cordial, I have a better chance of accomplishing my goal: get rent or get him out. And, I don't really care which one right now.
Mr. Richards hasn't called me back as of yet. For all I know, there is a check waiting in my PO Box. Which is fine. He isn't my most annoying tenant as of today. So, until he hits that point, he can limp along. But the writing is on the wall. And we all know it.
Mrs. Martin is a whole different story. She was caught up (more or less) and then rent came due again. The day rent was due, she sent me an e-mail saying she was sending half of it and the rest at the end of the month. I haven't gotten the first half. If she hadn't purposely told me she was sending money she wasn't intending to send, I would feel much better about her. But, to intentionally mislead me puts her in the same category as Mr. Smith.
I called Mrs. Martin this morning. Someone picked up and immediately the phone disconnected. Hm... I suspect she has caller ID. I called again and left a voice mail for her. As cordial as I am keeping Mr. Richards, I am not paying Mrs. Martin the same courtesy. Mr. Richards didn't lie to me about sending money. Besides, Mrs. Martin is the type who needs her butt kicked.
In my voice mail (which probably will be deleted without her listening to it) I told Mrs. Martin that I was through "working with" her. And, I would appreciate a call back to find out if she was moving out or if she was going to send the money like she said she would. I am sure I won't hear from her. She is getting served. The writing is on the wall for Mrs. Martin too. And, I am ready for that one to end.
However, there is a method to my madness. Essentially: it is easier to threaten, cajole and badger than it is to pay for an eviction. Besides, experience tells me everything seems to work out in the long run. Though not always in my favor.
Last Friday I woke up with the same feeling of dread I always get when I have to deal with Mrs. Martin and Mr. Richards. My real feeling is Mr. Richards will be ok. Only if I nag him to the point he pays up. The jury is out on Mrs. Martin.
Mr. Richards was supposed to pay me the latest installment of rent on the 20th (yes, he has paid me since my last posting about him). On Friday I called to confirm it was coming. I still haven't heard back. I called again today and repeated my message, also reiterating if I did not hear from him I would have him served and that would cost him as well. So, call back and tell me you sent it or give me a ton of excuses as to why not. Just call back.
When I call Mr. Richards, I am always very careful to be polite. Even when I am seriously annoyed, I am polite. My feeling is once the gloves are off with this man, the relationship will immediately deteriorate. So, if I keep it cordial, I have a better chance of accomplishing my goal: get rent or get him out. And, I don't really care which one right now.
Mr. Richards hasn't called me back as of yet. For all I know, there is a check waiting in my PO Box. Which is fine. He isn't my most annoying tenant as of today. So, until he hits that point, he can limp along. But the writing is on the wall. And we all know it.
Mrs. Martin is a whole different story. She was caught up (more or less) and then rent came due again. The day rent was due, she sent me an e-mail saying she was sending half of it and the rest at the end of the month. I haven't gotten the first half. If she hadn't purposely told me she was sending money she wasn't intending to send, I would feel much better about her. But, to intentionally mislead me puts her in the same category as Mr. Smith.
I called Mrs. Martin this morning. Someone picked up and immediately the phone disconnected. Hm... I suspect she has caller ID. I called again and left a voice mail for her. As cordial as I am keeping Mr. Richards, I am not paying Mrs. Martin the same courtesy. Mr. Richards didn't lie to me about sending money. Besides, Mrs. Martin is the type who needs her butt kicked.
In my voice mail (which probably will be deleted without her listening to it) I told Mrs. Martin that I was through "working with" her. And, I would appreciate a call back to find out if she was moving out or if she was going to send the money like she said she would. I am sure I won't hear from her. She is getting served. The writing is on the wall for Mrs. Martin too. And, I am ready for that one to end.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
I Always Ask
By the way, one of the great things about having vendors who know you is that they will give you an inside scoop on your tenants.
For example, last week when Clay was working on the air conditioner at Mrs. Waterford's home, he gave me a report. Mrs. Waterford's home is clean, well kept up. The air filter was changed. The dog hasn't destroyed the yard and the carpets are immaculate.
I asked.
For example, last week when Clay was working on the air conditioner at Mrs. Waterford's home, he gave me a report. Mrs. Waterford's home is clean, well kept up. The air filter was changed. The dog hasn't destroyed the yard and the carpets are immaculate.
I asked.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Note to Tenants:
Dear Tenants,
Arizona doesn't acknowledge daylight savings. Please understand, when you called in the past few months at 8 a.m. your time, it was 7 a.m. my time. Now when you call at 8 a.m. it is 6 a.m.
At 7 a.m. in my home, only Marty Sunshine is moving around. He isn't always cheerful at that hour. At 6 a.m. Marty is going to make me answer the phone. I guarantee I won't be cheerful. Please consider this your warning.
Thank you,
The Landord
Arizona doesn't acknowledge daylight savings. Please understand, when you called in the past few months at 8 a.m. your time, it was 7 a.m. my time. Now when you call at 8 a.m. it is 6 a.m.
At 7 a.m. in my home, only Marty Sunshine is moving around. He isn't always cheerful at that hour. At 6 a.m. Marty is going to make me answer the phone. I guarantee I won't be cheerful. Please consider this your warning.
Thank you,
The Landord
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Ms. Popularity
Yesterday morning, I was one popular landlord.
One of my favorite tenants is moving out. Drat! I am sorry to see him go. He wants out of his lease early because essentially he can't afford the rent any more. I like this scenario a lot better than having me hunt him down next month when he is hard on his luck. Or worse, him deciding just to live there indefinitely for free.
Before I gave him an answer, I asked him some basic questions: What kind of condition could I expect to find the house in when they move out? Were there any repairs? Did the dog do any damage I should know about? Were there any unfortunate bathroom fires that were never reported? Was there a meth lab in the garage I need to know about before I re-rent the house? You know, the very basics.
Yes, I will let him out of the lease. But, I won't give him his deposits back. He is breaking the lease.
Also yesterday morning, Mrs. 508 called asking for advice. Apparently she thinks I moonlight as a counselor. She even told me I should. I happen to like Mrs. 508, so talking to her doesn't bother me. However, the real reason for her call was to confirm when the rent was really due (check the lease!).
Mr. Partner once mentioned contracts are for when times aren't good. Not for when times are easy. This is so true.
Incidentally, Mrs. 508 and I are now on the same page about the whole rent thing. Somehow, she was just under the mistaken illusion she had a few extra weeks before the rent came due. I am sure this happens all the time with tenants who have lived in my home for MORE THAN A YEAR. I can see how this can get confusing. Nevertheless, despite her delusions, Mrs. 508 is pretty ok.
I also got my weekly e-mail from Ms. Betty. This time the furnace isn't working right. But, I am sure Clay can handle it. Which is what I told her. Call his company.
The dishwasher delivery folks looking for Ms. Betty also called me from Ms. Betty's home. They couldn't get in touch with her. And, if they didn't hear from her in the next ten minutes they were hauling the dishwasher back to the store. Turns out she was in the house. I am pleased to say Ms. Betty got her dishwasher.
In addition to all this, Mr. Partner e-mailed me with tons of questions. When could he do his taxes? When would he be getting an update? When was the price of coconuts in Madagascar going back up? Ok, maybe not that last question. Maybe.
One of my favorite tenants is moving out. Drat! I am sorry to see him go. He wants out of his lease early because essentially he can't afford the rent any more. I like this scenario a lot better than having me hunt him down next month when he is hard on his luck. Or worse, him deciding just to live there indefinitely for free.
Before I gave him an answer, I asked him some basic questions: What kind of condition could I expect to find the house in when they move out? Were there any repairs? Did the dog do any damage I should know about? Were there any unfortunate bathroom fires that were never reported? Was there a meth lab in the garage I need to know about before I re-rent the house? You know, the very basics.
Yes, I will let him out of the lease. But, I won't give him his deposits back. He is breaking the lease.
Also yesterday morning, Mrs. 508 called asking for advice. Apparently she thinks I moonlight as a counselor. She even told me I should. I happen to like Mrs. 508, so talking to her doesn't bother me. However, the real reason for her call was to confirm when the rent was really due (check the lease!).
Mr. Partner once mentioned contracts are for when times aren't good. Not for when times are easy. This is so true.
Incidentally, Mrs. 508 and I are now on the same page about the whole rent thing. Somehow, she was just under the mistaken illusion she had a few extra weeks before the rent came due. I am sure this happens all the time with tenants who have lived in my home for MORE THAN A YEAR. I can see how this can get confusing. Nevertheless, despite her delusions, Mrs. 508 is pretty ok.
I also got my weekly e-mail from Ms. Betty. This time the furnace isn't working right. But, I am sure Clay can handle it. Which is what I told her. Call his company.
The dishwasher delivery folks looking for Ms. Betty also called me from Ms. Betty's home. They couldn't get in touch with her. And, if they didn't hear from her in the next ten minutes they were hauling the dishwasher back to the store. Turns out she was in the house. I am pleased to say Ms. Betty got her dishwasher.
In addition to all this, Mr. Partner e-mailed me with tons of questions. When could he do his taxes? When would he be getting an update? When was the price of coconuts in Madagascar going back up? Ok, maybe not that last question. Maybe.
Monday, March 16, 2009
The PIA Factor
Lately, last week in particular, major home repairs have been the norm. It makes me wonder if I can expect the phone call at 2 a.m. saying the toilet overflowed. Now I would appreciate, before we go any further, if we could just stop for a moment and say a silent prayer that I don't get that phone call. Not that it would matter. It would go to voice mail.
I don't mind home repairs. Especially because I am not being expected to perform them. I can paint a wall or two. But, it is a bit of a stretch to ask me to install a dishwasher. Though I hate to say it, I probably could.
What I find interesting--especially when I talk with people who have thought about dabbling in rental properties--is last week's antics are what freak out potential landlords. I don't always think the panic is about the money they have to put out to fix these things. That, of course, is never fun. But more about the mind set that something is out of their control.
This past week there were a lot of repairs. Usually I have a repair every couple of months. I know it is just part of doing business. Maintenance happens. Just like if it were your own home or car. I would just appreciate if it didn't happen all in one week.
Last week:
Ms. Betty got her white, non-Bosch dishwasher. Except the major retailer I purchased it from won't install the damn thing (give you a hint: the employees wear orange aprons). Mr. Betty volunteered. I am going to let him. After all, if I think I can install it, how hard could it be?
Mrs. Waterford had some problem with the air conditioner that is too long and boring to explain in my patch of cyber space. In girl speak: it stopped working. Her repair took me by a surprise because the home (and air conditioner) wasn't that old. Nevertheless, I was able to call my buddy Clay the AC Guy who came to the rescue. Because I am such a good customer, he cut me a break when I asked him to reduce the price a bit.
The bees are back at Ms. Robin's now home. I haven't heard the overall solution to her dilema yet. I did hear Mr. Robin was stung. Sorry about that. Hopefully I will get some sort of answer of the best course of bee erratication soon.
Getting these repairs done weren't really that expensive in the grand scheme of things. Our rents cover the repairs (though don't leave for much else other than the mortgage payments). I have some expenses (or in the case of the dishwasher, a capital improvements) to deduct from taxes next year. And, because I acted quickly, I have happy tenants.
I don't mind home repairs. Especially because I am not being expected to perform them. I can paint a wall or two. But, it is a bit of a stretch to ask me to install a dishwasher. Though I hate to say it, I probably could.
What I find interesting--especially when I talk with people who have thought about dabbling in rental properties--is last week's antics are what freak out potential landlords. I don't always think the panic is about the money they have to put out to fix these things. That, of course, is never fun. But more about the mind set that something is out of their control.
This past week there were a lot of repairs. Usually I have a repair every couple of months. I know it is just part of doing business. Maintenance happens. Just like if it were your own home or car. I would just appreciate if it didn't happen all in one week.
Last week:
Ms. Betty got her white, non-Bosch dishwasher. Except the major retailer I purchased it from won't install the damn thing (give you a hint: the employees wear orange aprons). Mr. Betty volunteered. I am going to let him. After all, if I think I can install it, how hard could it be?
Mrs. Waterford had some problem with the air conditioner that is too long and boring to explain in my patch of cyber space. In girl speak: it stopped working. Her repair took me by a surprise because the home (and air conditioner) wasn't that old. Nevertheless, I was able to call my buddy Clay the AC Guy who came to the rescue. Because I am such a good customer, he cut me a break when I asked him to reduce the price a bit.
The bees are back at Ms. Robin's now home. I haven't heard the overall solution to her dilema yet. I did hear Mr. Robin was stung. Sorry about that. Hopefully I will get some sort of answer of the best course of bee erratication soon.
Getting these repairs done weren't really that expensive in the grand scheme of things. Our rents cover the repairs (though don't leave for much else other than the mortgage payments). I have some expenses (or in the case of the dishwasher, a capital improvements) to deduct from taxes next year. And, because I acted quickly, I have happy tenants.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
His Final Offer
Mr. Richards wants a new lease.
He is using an unusual negotiation technique. It is akin to a teen ager telling his partents, ok... I will only borrow your car if I can be home by curfew, drive the speed limit and I insist on filling up the tank before I return the car to you. This is my final offer.
And, me saying, Ok, you will only borrow your car if you are home by curfew, drive the speed limit, fill up the tank and wash it before you return the car to me.
You see, Mr. Richard's lease isn't up. I have never fully grasped why he thinks this is the case. But if he wants a new lease. I am happy to oblidge. Because in his old lease, I didn't have the foresight to include remedies to Mr. Richard's-prone behaviors that drive me out of my mind.
In the mean-time, I am holding his new lease out of arm's reach, telling him I am waiting for the full rent to come in before I give in. As soon as he is caught up (which according to him is in a few weeks and so far he is doing really well with getting caught up), I will pass out his new and improved lease.
He is using an unusual negotiation technique. It is akin to a teen ager telling his partents, ok... I will only borrow your car if I can be home by curfew, drive the speed limit and I insist on filling up the tank before I return the car to you. This is my final offer.
And, me saying, Ok, you will only borrow your car if you are home by curfew, drive the speed limit, fill up the tank and wash it before you return the car to me.
You see, Mr. Richard's lease isn't up. I have never fully grasped why he thinks this is the case. But if he wants a new lease. I am happy to oblidge. Because in his old lease, I didn't have the foresight to include remedies to Mr. Richard's-prone behaviors that drive me out of my mind.
In the mean-time, I am holding his new lease out of arm's reach, telling him I am waiting for the full rent to come in before I give in. As soon as he is caught up (which according to him is in a few weeks and so far he is doing really well with getting caught up), I will pass out his new and improved lease.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
What am I Supposed to Do With This?
My quest to have ONE week without Ms. Betty contacting me failed again. On Sunday I got the following e-mail. This was the entire note:
Never have I had any tenants make a point to tell me when they are doing yard work. Except Mrs. 508--but that was a special circumstance--I asked.
All her grammar issues aside. Seriously, what am I supposed to do with this? Is there a hidden subtext? Is this a test? If I don't write back have I failed?
If I do write back and say something like, "Gee, good to know. Thanks" will that be the right thing to say? Will she feel the need to send me more rude e-mails if I don't say "Wow! Good for you!" with the right amount of enthusiasm?
And, why tell me about the lawn? We don't chat. We aren't friendly. And, I am not sure I even like her any more. I don't contact her when I am doing dishes. I don't see a need to share with her when I am folding laundry. All of this familiarity is weirding me out.
When I asked Marty what the correct thing to do was, he said, "post it on your blog."
We cleaned the whole building out and went to the dump the yard is clean we will cut the grass next weekend
Never have I had any tenants make a point to tell me when they are doing yard work. Except Mrs. 508--but that was a special circumstance--I asked.
All her grammar issues aside. Seriously, what am I supposed to do with this? Is there a hidden subtext? Is this a test? If I don't write back have I failed?
If I do write back and say something like, "Gee, good to know. Thanks" will that be the right thing to say? Will she feel the need to send me more rude e-mails if I don't say "Wow! Good for you!" with the right amount of enthusiasm?
And, why tell me about the lawn? We don't chat. We aren't friendly. And, I am not sure I even like her any more. I don't contact her when I am doing dishes. I don't see a need to share with her when I am folding laundry. All of this familiarity is weirding me out.
When I asked Marty what the correct thing to do was, he said, "post it on your blog."
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
News
Although I could bore you with tomes of drama related to Marty Sunshine's layoff and how running an accidental business in Alabama is affected by this, I won't. However, I will give you the highlights.
One highlight was watching the dawn of realization streak across Mr. Partner's face when he started adding up the realities: Business is seriously under capitalized + Marty Sunshine's job going away = HOLY COW! THERE IS NO SAFETY NET IF WE GET HIT WITH ANOTHER SET OF DEADBEATS LIKE WE DID LAST SUMMER.
Mr. Partner catching on was a relief. I didn't have to spell out the possible disaster scenarios to him. I had already gone through these things in my head a dozen times. I didn't want to vocalize them and have Mr. Partner add possible disaster scenarios I hadn't thought of.
The other highlight of our drama was when the company Marty works for offered him a job in Seattle. The one in Washington.
Just so you know, Seattle is MUCH farther from Alabama than Arizona is. Not only would we have the run-of-the mill annoyances that come with moving, we would have the added business related annoyances--like figuring out how to transfer my corporation to another state, changing the PO Box and the fact there are no banks in Seattle that are also located in Birmingham. So, even though Seattle sounds green and a lot cooler in the summer than it is here, it wasn't our first choice.
But, Marty never wavered. He was positive and upbeat. So it wasn't a surprise to him when he got offered another position with his company. This one in Mesa Arizona. We don't have to move. We don't have to uproot our lives. For the next year or so, we are staying put.
One highlight was watching the dawn of realization streak across Mr. Partner's face when he started adding up the realities: Business is seriously under capitalized + Marty Sunshine's job going away = HOLY COW! THERE IS NO SAFETY NET IF WE GET HIT WITH ANOTHER SET OF DEADBEATS LIKE WE DID LAST SUMMER.
Mr. Partner catching on was a relief. I didn't have to spell out the possible disaster scenarios to him. I had already gone through these things in my head a dozen times. I didn't want to vocalize them and have Mr. Partner add possible disaster scenarios I hadn't thought of.
The other highlight of our drama was when the company Marty works for offered him a job in Seattle. The one in Washington.
Just so you know, Seattle is MUCH farther from Alabama than Arizona is. Not only would we have the run-of-the mill annoyances that come with moving, we would have the added business related annoyances--like figuring out how to transfer my corporation to another state, changing the PO Box and the fact there are no banks in Seattle that are also located in Birmingham. So, even though Seattle sounds green and a lot cooler in the summer than it is here, it wasn't our first choice.
But, Marty never wavered. He was positive and upbeat. So it wasn't a surprise to him when he got offered another position with his company. This one in Mesa Arizona. We don't have to move. We don't have to uproot our lives. For the next year or so, we are staying put.
Monday, March 09, 2009
A Quick Tip
In the recent months, I added the following clause to my lease:
If you are a landlord, I recomend adding this to your lease. Meth labs are bad news. Cover your assets folks.
Any evidence of the manufacturing or sale of illegal substances on the premises or any arrest and conviction related to the manufacturing or sale of illegal substances will result in immediate termination of this lease. The tenant will be held financially responsible for the abatement and any legal costs related to the abatement of the property if illegal substances are found on the premises.
If you are a landlord, I recomend adding this to your lease. Meth labs are bad news. Cover your assets folks.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Stop the Madness
I am not exaggerating when I say Ms. Betty calls, or now e-mails, at least once a week (if I am lucky only once a week). There are a lot of annoying things that happen on a weekly basis. She is the most consistent of the annoying things.
Sometimes she isn't annoying. Sometimes she has legitimate issues. Like needing my address AGAIN today. Or the fact the dishwasher is leaking all over the floor. I can see those items as legit.
In the event you ever think you might want to rent to Ms. Betty, let me give you a snippet of a conversation a couple of months ago:
Ms. Betty: We need to get an electrician out here. The outlet in the bedroom doesn't work.
Me: What's wrong with it?
Ms. B: There is no electricity getting to the lamp.
Me: Have you replaced the bulb in the lamp?
Ms. B: No ma'am. I am sure it is the outlet.
Me: Could you try the bulb anyway just to be sure.
Ms. B: Yes ma'am. Hold on for a moment.
Me: Waiting... Humming to myself and wondering how much money I am spending on cell minutes
Ms. B: (returning to the phone hours later) Well, it looks like it was the bulb after all.
Her e-mail today gave me a chance to let her know that I may not make it to the bank in a timely manner next week, so it might be best to send a money order. She didn't rip my head off for that. Instead she took the liberty to tell me she priced stainless steel high end dishwashers for me. How nice. I was thinking more along the lines of something in the Amana/Kenmore variety. White.
Sometimes she isn't annoying. Sometimes she has legitimate issues. Like needing my address AGAIN today. Or the fact the dishwasher is leaking all over the floor. I can see those items as legit.
In the event you ever think you might want to rent to Ms. Betty, let me give you a snippet of a conversation a couple of months ago:
Ms. Betty: We need to get an electrician out here. The outlet in the bedroom doesn't work.
Me: What's wrong with it?
Ms. B: There is no electricity getting to the lamp.
Me: Have you replaced the bulb in the lamp?
Ms. B: No ma'am. I am sure it is the outlet.
Me: Could you try the bulb anyway just to be sure.
Ms. B: Yes ma'am. Hold on for a moment.
Me: Waiting... Humming to myself and wondering how much money I am spending on cell minutes
Ms. B: (returning to the phone hours later) Well, it looks like it was the bulb after all.
Her e-mail today gave me a chance to let her know that I may not make it to the bank in a timely manner next week, so it might be best to send a money order. She didn't rip my head off for that. Instead she took the liberty to tell me she priced stainless steel high end dishwashers for me. How nice. I was thinking more along the lines of something in the Amana/Kenmore variety. White.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
The Real Lessons from Fergie
I have two tenants right now who are teetering. To them, their situations are unique. But, really they aren't. I have seen both types of tenants fail before. And, I have seen both types succeed. Right now, with rent coming in and both being (more or less) upfront with me, I would put them closer to the succeed category. But not by much. All I really want is for them to pay or for them to voluntarily move out and clean up when they go. Either is fine by me.
I should clarify. I have other tenants who are also struggling, but they don't make it my problem.
Both of these people didn't start out teetering. Circumstances changed while they were living under my roof. Because they are my only two troublemakers, I take this as a positive sign that I am getting better at picking tenants.
There are people like Fergie, like Wayward, like the Good Pastor who have helped me along the way. They have made it possible for me to hone my tenant screening process. They have made it possible for me to continually perfect my ideal of what a good tenant looks like. I am sure there will be others who challenge my good tenant ideal, but I am getting much better at weeding the garden.
Through these experiences I have learned to set standards. I do not discriminate on any of the Federal Fair Housing protected classes. I do not know what color, religion or ethnicity my tenants are. Nobody is every going to be able to say I didn't rent to them because they were black, Hispanic or had purple polka-dots on their skin. I just don't know what these folks look like. And, I don't care.
I now have written standards that I use for screening. I look at debt ratios. If you bring home $2500 a month and are currently paying out more than 55 percent of that, you won't be renting to me. Your bills are too high. The likelihood you will be calling me one month telling me rent is late because you had to buy pencils is pretty high.
I look at what you have done to former landlords. If your credit is stellar but you have burned a landlord, you will never rent from me. Ever. This is something I started looking at in the past couple of years. If I had done this sooner, Wayward never would have rented from me. She had three evictions prior to mine. Now she has a monetary judgement against her and her wages are being garnished. I don't feel the least bit sad about this. I do call past landlords. With my most recent tenant, I called all of her past landlords. One said he was impressed at how thorough I was. I explained my logic. He told me he would start calling too. We landlords have to stick together.
I look at their history of paying. I do this by checking credit. A monetary judgement doesn't scare me. One of my best tenants right now has a monetary judgement from a hospital against her for a car accident several years earlier. She is paying it. That's why she is renting.
Of course things happen to put one in this situation. And, yes, I do take into consideration life events that change and cause great strife. I do understand people die, there are divorces and there are job losses. I get that. I have always been sympathetic to this. I am not talking about those folks.
I am talking about the ones who don't have realistic expecations about paying their bills. What I don't like to see is lots of monetary judgements for little things. If you have judgements against you from the cellphone company, the power company and the credit card company, you probably are going to struggle to pay the rent. And, you are telling me your credit score and personal integrity aren't that important to you. You are also telling me I can expect you not to leave if you can't pay your way. I have enough drama in my life right now, thankyouverymuch.
I should clarify. I have other tenants who are also struggling, but they don't make it my problem.
Both of these people didn't start out teetering. Circumstances changed while they were living under my roof. Because they are my only two troublemakers, I take this as a positive sign that I am getting better at picking tenants.
There are people like Fergie, like Wayward, like the Good Pastor who have helped me along the way. They have made it possible for me to hone my tenant screening process. They have made it possible for me to continually perfect my ideal of what a good tenant looks like. I am sure there will be others who challenge my good tenant ideal, but I am getting much better at weeding the garden.
Through these experiences I have learned to set standards. I do not discriminate on any of the Federal Fair Housing protected classes. I do not know what color, religion or ethnicity my tenants are. Nobody is every going to be able to say I didn't rent to them because they were black, Hispanic or had purple polka-dots on their skin. I just don't know what these folks look like. And, I don't care.
I now have written standards that I use for screening. I look at debt ratios. If you bring home $2500 a month and are currently paying out more than 55 percent of that, you won't be renting to me. Your bills are too high. The likelihood you will be calling me one month telling me rent is late because you had to buy pencils is pretty high.
I look at what you have done to former landlords. If your credit is stellar but you have burned a landlord, you will never rent from me. Ever. This is something I started looking at in the past couple of years. If I had done this sooner, Wayward never would have rented from me. She had three evictions prior to mine. Now she has a monetary judgement against her and her wages are being garnished. I don't feel the least bit sad about this. I do call past landlords. With my most recent tenant, I called all of her past landlords. One said he was impressed at how thorough I was. I explained my logic. He told me he would start calling too. We landlords have to stick together.
I look at their history of paying. I do this by checking credit. A monetary judgement doesn't scare me. One of my best tenants right now has a monetary judgement from a hospital against her for a car accident several years earlier. She is paying it. That's why she is renting.
Of course things happen to put one in this situation. And, yes, I do take into consideration life events that change and cause great strife. I do understand people die, there are divorces and there are job losses. I get that. I have always been sympathetic to this. I am not talking about those folks.
I am talking about the ones who don't have realistic expecations about paying their bills. What I don't like to see is lots of monetary judgements for little things. If you have judgements against you from the cellphone company, the power company and the credit card company, you probably are going to struggle to pay the rent. And, you are telling me your credit score and personal integrity aren't that important to you. You are also telling me I can expect you not to leave if you can't pay your way. I have enough drama in my life right now, thankyouverymuch.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
The Fergie Subtext
It isn't that I am self righteous about money. I am just naive. If someone tells me they have to make a decision between a package of pencils or their rent, I take this literally.
It wasn't until very recently I understood what all of my tenants who gave me these kinds of excuses really were saying. These folks didn't want to come out and say, they just didn't have the rent money. But that was the gist.
Now I understand. When they called me with lame excuses, I would make unhelpful suggestions. "Couldn't your kids just use an old pencil or buy one pencil for a quarter from the school's librarian?" I really thought I was being helpful. After all, if they could get this little dilemma resolved, I would have my rent money and all of us would be happy.
If I searched the Internet, I would probably find somewhere a handy guide on how to dodge the landlord when the rent is due. Perhaps there is even a blog such as this one, covering this particular topic.
However, assuming that all of the tenants of the world in Fergie's situation world aren't in cahoots, I think there is a certain amount of predictable human behavior that goes along with being in a situation where you can't pay your rent. Tenants who are short tend to over promise and under deliver. Once they have used that ploy up (because if they follow through, they can use it again), they start avoiding the landlord. I believe the thinking goes like this, if I don't answer the door/phone/telepathic signals, the landlord will just forget all about me. It isn't a character flaw. These tenants just don't feel they have any other recourse.
Most of the ones who struggle are just trying to work their way out of the hole they have dug. Generally they are optimistic--and borderline unrealistic--about their chances. Instead of just cutting their losses, they stay. It is easier to stay and work something out with the landlord than to uproot their family and scrape together new rental and utility deposits.
These particular folks aren't deadbeats in my book until they stop trying and start living in my home for free. The transition happens once the mindset becomes "landlord must be rich and I am going to stay here until the sheriff comes and kicks me out" game. Those folks are the deadbeats.
It wasn't until very recently I understood what all of my tenants who gave me these kinds of excuses really were saying. These folks didn't want to come out and say, they just didn't have the rent money. But that was the gist.
Now I understand. When they called me with lame excuses, I would make unhelpful suggestions. "Couldn't your kids just use an old pencil or buy one pencil for a quarter from the school's librarian?" I really thought I was being helpful. After all, if they could get this little dilemma resolved, I would have my rent money and all of us would be happy.
If I searched the Internet, I would probably find somewhere a handy guide on how to dodge the landlord when the rent is due. Perhaps there is even a blog such as this one, covering this particular topic.
However, assuming that all of the tenants of the world in Fergie's situation world aren't in cahoots, I think there is a certain amount of predictable human behavior that goes along with being in a situation where you can't pay your rent. Tenants who are short tend to over promise and under deliver. Once they have used that ploy up (because if they follow through, they can use it again), they start avoiding the landlord. I believe the thinking goes like this, if I don't answer the door/phone/telepathic signals, the landlord will just forget all about me. It isn't a character flaw. These tenants just don't feel they have any other recourse.
Most of the ones who struggle are just trying to work their way out of the hole they have dug. Generally they are optimistic--and borderline unrealistic--about their chances. Instead of just cutting their losses, they stay. It is easier to stay and work something out with the landlord than to uproot their family and scrape together new rental and utility deposits.
These particular folks aren't deadbeats in my book until they stop trying and start living in my home for free. The transition happens once the mindset becomes "landlord must be rich and I am going to stay here until the sheriff comes and kicks me out" game. Those folks are the deadbeats.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
The Fergie Basics
Fergie was my second bad tenant. The first only lasted two months and I don't remember her being annoying. Even as green as Marty and I were, neither of us expected our first tenant to last. Fortunately, she didn't.
Fergie, however, was a trip. As it was inconceivable to me how someone could put school supplies over a place for their children, I just did not get her. Now of course, I understand better. What she was really saying was she put all her other bills and expenses--including pencils--in front of her ability to pay rent. Essentially, there was a lot of month left over after her pay check.
I am glad Fergie was an Arizona tenant, because I think I would have gone over the emotional edge if this were my first true experience with a bad tenant and I was remote. Bad tenants eat up more of my emotional energy. They require more handholding. More prodding. More phone calls. Essentially, bad tenants really suck. But because Fergie was local, it was easier to get in touch with her. The times I showed up on her doorstep were a shock. It isn't as easy to waltz over to Mr. Richard's house from here and bang on his door.
I learned a lot from Fergie. I learned never to allow a tenant access to my bank account. For example, because Fergie lived about 30 miles away, I thought it would be easier if Fergie could directly deposit her rent money into my bank account once a month than me wait for her to mail the check. We banked at the same place, how much of a pain could this be? Fergie, who understood the system better than I, realized if she put in a portion of her rent payment into my bank account, that was the same as me accepting a partial rent payment.
A quick word to the wise: according to Legal Eagle and the Arizona Landlord Tenant Act, if a landlord deposits a partial payment from a tenant, it is the landlord agreeing to a reduced rent. Essentially, all bets are off. The tenant gets to stay another month.
So, if Fergie was short, she would put in half the rent money into my bank account and then call me at some obscure hour when she knew she would get my voice mail to tell me the rest was coming in two weeks. If it didn't come, there wasn't much I could do about it. In truth, it always came. Fortunately, Fergie was good about that. But, her methods had me over a barrel. Obviously in hind-sight I should have closed the account and stopped this.
I also learned a lot about tenant law. At one point, Fergie left me a voice mail (at the aforementioned obscure hour), telling me she was giving me 30 days notice she was leaving. She informed me she was expecting her deposits back.
After frantically looking up landlord-tenant law, I was able to explain to Fergie that she was in a lease. Therefore, she was obligated to fulfill the terms of the lease and would owe me the rent money if she moved out. She also would not get her deposits back if she broke the lease. Fergie called back at a reasonable hour and threatened to sue me if I didn't let her out of her lease. Of course her lawsuit had no grounds.
Let's have a moment down memory lane, shall we? Awe... Fergie was my first tenant who threatened to sue me. In case it matters, Ms. Betty, upset about her rent check not being cashed as soon as she would like, is the latest person to threaten to sue me. At any rate, I learned a valuable lesson about crazy deadbeat tenants. They threaten to sue. A lot. However, crazy tenants are generally in the wrong and have no money. Fergie was the only tenant I ever took this seriously from. And then only for about an hour.
I learned sometimes it is better just to let go. I eventually did let Fergie out of her lease. I had had enough. The games were getting old. And, I knew the house was worth a lot more than I paid for it. I wanted to sell.
Fergie ended up moving down the street. The landlord called to check out Fergie. I breathed a sigh of releif when the only thing the guy asked was did she leave the house clean. Yes! Yes she did. Three weeks later the new landlord called back to ask if Fergie was a flake. Yes. Yes she is. I remember him saying, "I guess I should have asked that before." Yes! Yes he should have.
Fergie, however, was a trip. As it was inconceivable to me how someone could put school supplies over a place for their children, I just did not get her. Now of course, I understand better. What she was really saying was she put all her other bills and expenses--including pencils--in front of her ability to pay rent. Essentially, there was a lot of month left over after her pay check.
I am glad Fergie was an Arizona tenant, because I think I would have gone over the emotional edge if this were my first true experience with a bad tenant and I was remote. Bad tenants eat up more of my emotional energy. They require more handholding. More prodding. More phone calls. Essentially, bad tenants really suck. But because Fergie was local, it was easier to get in touch with her. The times I showed up on her doorstep were a shock. It isn't as easy to waltz over to Mr. Richard's house from here and bang on his door.
I learned a lot from Fergie. I learned never to allow a tenant access to my bank account. For example, because Fergie lived about 30 miles away, I thought it would be easier if Fergie could directly deposit her rent money into my bank account once a month than me wait for her to mail the check. We banked at the same place, how much of a pain could this be? Fergie, who understood the system better than I, realized if she put in a portion of her rent payment into my bank account, that was the same as me accepting a partial rent payment.
A quick word to the wise: according to Legal Eagle and the Arizona Landlord Tenant Act, if a landlord deposits a partial payment from a tenant, it is the landlord agreeing to a reduced rent. Essentially, all bets are off. The tenant gets to stay another month.
So, if Fergie was short, she would put in half the rent money into my bank account and then call me at some obscure hour when she knew she would get my voice mail to tell me the rest was coming in two weeks. If it didn't come, there wasn't much I could do about it. In truth, it always came. Fortunately, Fergie was good about that. But, her methods had me over a barrel. Obviously in hind-sight I should have closed the account and stopped this.
I also learned a lot about tenant law. At one point, Fergie left me a voice mail (at the aforementioned obscure hour), telling me she was giving me 30 days notice she was leaving. She informed me she was expecting her deposits back.
After frantically looking up landlord-tenant law, I was able to explain to Fergie that she was in a lease. Therefore, she was obligated to fulfill the terms of the lease and would owe me the rent money if she moved out. She also would not get her deposits back if she broke the lease. Fergie called back at a reasonable hour and threatened to sue me if I didn't let her out of her lease. Of course her lawsuit had no grounds.
Let's have a moment down memory lane, shall we? Awe... Fergie was my first tenant who threatened to sue me. In case it matters, Ms. Betty, upset about her rent check not being cashed as soon as she would like, is the latest person to threaten to sue me. At any rate, I learned a valuable lesson about crazy deadbeat tenants. They threaten to sue. A lot. However, crazy tenants are generally in the wrong and have no money. Fergie was the only tenant I ever took this seriously from. And then only for about an hour.
I learned sometimes it is better just to let go. I eventually did let Fergie out of her lease. I had had enough. The games were getting old. And, I knew the house was worth a lot more than I paid for it. I wanted to sell.
Fergie ended up moving down the street. The landlord called to check out Fergie. I breathed a sigh of releif when the only thing the guy asked was did she leave the house clean. Yes! Yes she did. Three weeks later the new landlord called back to ask if Fergie was a flake. Yes. Yes she is. I remember him saying, "I guess I should have asked that before." Yes! Yes he should have.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Fergie
Fergie was actually one of my early tenants, brought to me through a friend of a friend of my tenant in my first rental home. This was the first home we bought with Vance. Her home, a newish four bedroom stuccoed drab beige home with a pink roof, was in a-then up and coming section of Phoenix, where she wanted to live to be near family and friends.
At the time I hooked up with Fergie, I didn't recognize the signs of a bad renter. I can honestly say, if Fergie and I crossed paths today, I wouldn't need her application to know she would be trouble. Now, I realize warning signs were bright enough to land a 747 on a foggy night.
Fergie was a single mother who wanted the best for her and her children. An opportunity came along for her to live in a home that was in her means--if she budgeted accordingly--and she took it.
I should say, Fergie really tried. That is, tried to keep the roof over her head and more to the point, tried my patience. The real issue was Fergie's lifestyle were much higher than her monthly income. I suspect there are many people I run across who fall into this category. I can spot them better now than I could then.
From about month three, Fergie would call every month some new crisis that would make the rent late. It was always something that, if she had put a roof for her children first in her priorities, would have kept her as a thorn in my side much longer.
My favorite excuse for why her rent was going to be late was when she called me to tell me she was short because she had to buy school supplies for her kids. “What school supplies do you need?” I had asked. Pencils. She replied. A pack of pencils didn’t cost a month’s rent, I pointed out.
Eventually, I let Fergie out of her lease. It saved me a lot of grief later on. And, it probably saved her a lot of heartache too. One of the really great things about her was she left me a clean house. And, it was the one Vance and I turned around with a great profit. That profit gave me other homes in Alabama. So, not only did I learn a considerable amount about property management from Fergie, I also was able to expand my business.
At the time I hooked up with Fergie, I didn't recognize the signs of a bad renter. I can honestly say, if Fergie and I crossed paths today, I wouldn't need her application to know she would be trouble. Now, I realize warning signs were bright enough to land a 747 on a foggy night.
Fergie was a single mother who wanted the best for her and her children. An opportunity came along for her to live in a home that was in her means--if she budgeted accordingly--and she took it.
I should say, Fergie really tried. That is, tried to keep the roof over her head and more to the point, tried my patience. The real issue was Fergie's lifestyle were much higher than her monthly income. I suspect there are many people I run across who fall into this category. I can spot them better now than I could then.
From about month three, Fergie would call every month some new crisis that would make the rent late. It was always something that, if she had put a roof for her children first in her priorities, would have kept her as a thorn in my side much longer.
My favorite excuse for why her rent was going to be late was when she called me to tell me she was short because she had to buy school supplies for her kids. “What school supplies do you need?” I had asked. Pencils. She replied. A pack of pencils didn’t cost a month’s rent, I pointed out.
Eventually, I let Fergie out of her lease. It saved me a lot of grief later on. And, it probably saved her a lot of heartache too. One of the really great things about her was she left me a clean house. And, it was the one Vance and I turned around with a great profit. That profit gave me other homes in Alabama. So, not only did I learn a considerable amount about property management from Fergie, I also was able to expand my business.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Just for the Record
I had never been to Birmingham Alabama until after I purchased several rental homes there. (Someone recently asked).
Saturday, February 28, 2009
A Happy Buckaroo
You might remember the story of my Buckaroo using his birthday money to make a bear for the orphaned child in Mrs. 508's custody?
Well, Mrs. 508 sent a card to my Buckaroo thanking him for the bear. Much to Buckaroo's delight, the card plays the Hamster Dance. Over. And Over.
And, as expected, Buckaroo happens to LOVE this card. He brings it with him everywhere. Although we have drawn the line at being forced to listen to it while trapped in the car.
Yesterday, I called Mrs. 508 and left a message thanking her for the card and the pictures of this cute little boy (yes, she sent pictures). I then played the card for her to share the love. I let her know if I found a drum set, I would be inclined to send it her way.
Well, Mrs. 508 sent a card to my Buckaroo thanking him for the bear. Much to Buckaroo's delight, the card plays the Hamster Dance. Over. And Over.
And, as expected, Buckaroo happens to LOVE this card. He brings it with him everywhere. Although we have drawn the line at being forced to listen to it while trapped in the car.
Yesterday, I called Mrs. 508 and left a message thanking her for the card and the pictures of this cute little boy (yes, she sent pictures). I then played the card for her to share the love. I let her know if I found a drum set, I would be inclined to send it her way.
Friday, February 27, 2009
A Minor "Misunderstanding"
I seriously don't know which one of my tenants is the most maddening right now. Although Ms. Betty seems to have calmed down, she has left a lasting impression. Every call this week has given me reason to cringe (and I have talked to her twice since Monday. This woman so needs a life).
There is Mrs. Martin. Yes, that one. But she is for another day. I am just not in the mood today.
Then there is Mr. Richards. If he didn't amuse me so much I probably would be screaming at him right about now. You see, it was a psychic premonition that got Mr. Richards to call Wednesday. At the time of his voice mail, he hadn't heard from Red. Apparently Mr. Richards just had an urge to call. I guess he just figured it was high time he got back in touch with me.
I know this timeline to be correct because Red called me Thursday morning to tell me when Mr. Richards was served. Late Wednesday night. But, back to Mr. Richards.
As you may recall, Mr. Richards offered me a super deal that went like this, "I will gladly pay you on March 20th for a place to live today." My voice mail response was something akin to I am not stupid enough to fall for this. Yes, I used the word stupid.
Mr. Richards has since left two voice mails, telling me I "misunderstood" his message. He tells me he didn't say March 20. He said March 6. Silly me.
Just so you know, I kept the voice mail. I replayed it just to make sure I wasn't crazy. March 20 sounds nothing like March 6--even with his thick Southern drawl.
He also repeatedly told me he didn't think I was stupid enough to wait for March 20 for rent. Gee, it is all a misunderstanding, and if I would pretty please call him back he would like to make this right. He also gave me a long-winded action plan. I am getting he really doesn't want to move.
I haven't called him back just yet. I will. But let him stew a bit longer.
There is Mrs. Martin. Yes, that one. But she is for another day. I am just not in the mood today.
Then there is Mr. Richards. If he didn't amuse me so much I probably would be screaming at him right about now. You see, it was a psychic premonition that got Mr. Richards to call Wednesday. At the time of his voice mail, he hadn't heard from Red. Apparently Mr. Richards just had an urge to call. I guess he just figured it was high time he got back in touch with me.
I know this timeline to be correct because Red called me Thursday morning to tell me when Mr. Richards was served. Late Wednesday night. But, back to Mr. Richards.
As you may recall, Mr. Richards offered me a super deal that went like this, "I will gladly pay you on March 20th for a place to live today." My voice mail response was something akin to I am not stupid enough to fall for this. Yes, I used the word stupid.
Mr. Richards has since left two voice mails, telling me I "misunderstood" his message. He tells me he didn't say March 20. He said March 6. Silly me.
Just so you know, I kept the voice mail. I replayed it just to make sure I wasn't crazy. March 20 sounds nothing like March 6--even with his thick Southern drawl.
He also repeatedly told me he didn't think I was stupid enough to wait for March 20 for rent. Gee, it is all a misunderstanding, and if I would pretty please call him back he would like to make this right. He also gave me a long-winded action plan. I am getting he really doesn't want to move.
I haven't called him back just yet. I will. But let him stew a bit longer.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Clueless Mr. Richards
During lunch yesterday, I gave Mr. Partner a quick update on Mr. Richards. Essentially, I told Mr. Partner I would rather he limped along than pay Legal Eagle's son his next semester at Harvard (the boy is 7--but by the time we are done paying he won't be).
Anyway, Mr. Partner agreed. Let him limp if he is truly committed to staying, but at the first sign of trouble feel free to kick him out. Essentially, it is my call.
As a side note I have to tell you, this is a far cry from the alpha-landlord slap fights of the past. I am sorry I didn't get this particular directive in writing from Mr. Partner. But, no matter.
At the same time we were discussing him, Mr. Richards must have sensed something because he managed to leave a message to me right as I was digging into my pizza. I guess that means Red found him.
In his message, Mr. Richards asked me if I would "work with" him. And, if so, would I be willing to wait until March 20 for his rent. Um... No.
I would be happy to work with Mr. Richards. But, I am not willing to be stupid about it. And, I believe I used those exact words when I called him back. Mr. Partner got a kick out of Mr. Richard's message too, knowing full well, Mr. Richards had just crossed the line from reasonable to trouble.
What I did tell Mr. Richards when I called back and got his voice mail was that if he sent me a payment in the next few days I would call off the eviction. I didn't tell him what would happen if he didn't sent me a payment in the next 10 days, but I am guessing he isn't that clueless.
Anyway, Mr. Partner agreed. Let him limp if he is truly committed to staying, but at the first sign of trouble feel free to kick him out. Essentially, it is my call.
As a side note I have to tell you, this is a far cry from the alpha-landlord slap fights of the past. I am sorry I didn't get this particular directive in writing from Mr. Partner. But, no matter.
At the same time we were discussing him, Mr. Richards must have sensed something because he managed to leave a message to me right as I was digging into my pizza. I guess that means Red found him.
In his message, Mr. Richards asked me if I would "work with" him. And, if so, would I be willing to wait until March 20 for his rent. Um... No.
I would be happy to work with Mr. Richards. But, I am not willing to be stupid about it. And, I believe I used those exact words when I called him back. Mr. Partner got a kick out of Mr. Richard's message too, knowing full well, Mr. Richards had just crossed the line from reasonable to trouble.
What I did tell Mr. Richards when I called back and got his voice mail was that if he sent me a payment in the next few days I would call off the eviction. I didn't tell him what would happen if he didn't sent me a payment in the next 10 days, but I am guessing he isn't that clueless.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The Southern Serving Process
I have four process servers. I bet none of my readers have ANY process servers in their life (with maybe the exception of Legal Eagle--who really isn't a reader except when I tell her I wrote about her or need her legal advice about a posting).
There was a time when I would have laughed at the person who, thinking them somewhat pretentious, had four process server phone numbers stored in their address book. Not any more. Now I would probably just greet that person with an all encompassed nod and sympathetic pat on the shoulder, fully understanding the gravity of their situation.
Oh wait? You wonder exactly what a process server does? Well, they are the guys you see on TV who hand an envelope (the summons is always an envelope on TV) to some drug thug or soon to be divorced dad with a snide comment saying, "see you in court."
Of course, in real life it is not that way. Generally it just someone paid to hand the summons to the deadbeat tenant. If necessary, that person must be willing to get dressed up and go to court saying, "yes, I gave him that piece of paper" or "yes, I left that piece of paper on her door and here is the photo of it, Your Honor."
In Alabama, all you need to serve someone is to actually identify the person and drop the note at their feet. Or, if they won't come to the door (because, in my case, they are hiding from me and other potential bill collectors), they can post the notice on the door of the deadbeat and take a photo of the notice. A process server's word goes pretty far with a judge over a deadbeat's word.
One of the reasons I have so many process servers is because all of them are located in the South. Things don't happen according to the Roman calendar in the South. So, I need to plan my process serving missions strategically.
Process Server 1: Mr. H. Doesn't own a calendar. Technology challenged (even more than yours truly. Hey! At least I know how to blog). Doesn't own a fax machine or a printer. In order to get him a termination notice, I have to send it by Fed Ex or the US Mail. So, if I want to evict someone on Tuesday, I better send him what he needs the previous Thursday and hope he is in town on Tuesday.
Process Server 2: Red. Doesn't own a calendar. According to Red, he was in a motorcycle accident six weeks ago where he hit a deer on the interstate. He is now limping around on crutches. Hopefully by Thursday he tells me he should be in a walking cast.
And, poor Red isn't driving much lately either. Last week I sent him a notice for Mr. Richards. It is now Wednesday and I am still waiting. Part of this reason I am still waiting is because Red was readmitted into the hospital this past weekend with a punctured lung (another byproduct of his poor motorcycle demise). He was sweet enough to joke that he was sorry he wasn't admitted to the hospital Mr. Richards worked at. Personally, I thought it would have been efficient.
Process Server 3: Carolsue. Yes, Carolsue, the Jill of all trades isn't afraid to slap a summons on some deadbeat's door and tell them to get their stuff and move the hell off my property. She might say it exactly like that, only adding "bless your heart" at the end. I know she owns a calendar. I gave her one when I was in Alabama last November.
Last week Carolsue moved across the street (I mean this literally) from Mr. Richards. It would have been perfect for her to serve him. However, she had no phone or e-mail. My smoke signal device wasn't working either. So, I called Red. Who still hasn't done it. However, I have another one for her to take care of, but that is for another post (stay tuned).
Process Server 4: I keep this one in my back pocket--Baseball Guy. Though I have a phone number and an e-mail address for him, the easiest way to get in touch with him is through Carolsue (which is the same way I get in touch with Andy, my convicted murderer lawn guy). So, if she isn't available, she can subcontract to him.
At any rate, my deadbeats get served. But only in due time.
There was a time when I would have laughed at the person who, thinking them somewhat pretentious, had four process server phone numbers stored in their address book. Not any more. Now I would probably just greet that person with an all encompassed nod and sympathetic pat on the shoulder, fully understanding the gravity of their situation.
Oh wait? You wonder exactly what a process server does? Well, they are the guys you see on TV who hand an envelope (the summons is always an envelope on TV) to some drug thug or soon to be divorced dad with a snide comment saying, "see you in court."
Of course, in real life it is not that way. Generally it just someone paid to hand the summons to the deadbeat tenant. If necessary, that person must be willing to get dressed up and go to court saying, "yes, I gave him that piece of paper" or "yes, I left that piece of paper on her door and here is the photo of it, Your Honor."
In Alabama, all you need to serve someone is to actually identify the person and drop the note at their feet. Or, if they won't come to the door (because, in my case, they are hiding from me and other potential bill collectors), they can post the notice on the door of the deadbeat and take a photo of the notice. A process server's word goes pretty far with a judge over a deadbeat's word.
One of the reasons I have so many process servers is because all of them are located in the South. Things don't happen according to the Roman calendar in the South. So, I need to plan my process serving missions strategically.
Process Server 1: Mr. H. Doesn't own a calendar. Technology challenged (even more than yours truly. Hey! At least I know how to blog). Doesn't own a fax machine or a printer. In order to get him a termination notice, I have to send it by Fed Ex or the US Mail. So, if I want to evict someone on Tuesday, I better send him what he needs the previous Thursday and hope he is in town on Tuesday.
Process Server 2: Red. Doesn't own a calendar. According to Red, he was in a motorcycle accident six weeks ago where he hit a deer on the interstate. He is now limping around on crutches. Hopefully by Thursday he tells me he should be in a walking cast.
And, poor Red isn't driving much lately either. Last week I sent him a notice for Mr. Richards. It is now Wednesday and I am still waiting. Part of this reason I am still waiting is because Red was readmitted into the hospital this past weekend with a punctured lung (another byproduct of his poor motorcycle demise). He was sweet enough to joke that he was sorry he wasn't admitted to the hospital Mr. Richards worked at. Personally, I thought it would have been efficient.
Process Server 3: Carolsue. Yes, Carolsue, the Jill of all trades isn't afraid to slap a summons on some deadbeat's door and tell them to get their stuff and move the hell off my property. She might say it exactly like that, only adding "bless your heart" at the end. I know she owns a calendar. I gave her one when I was in Alabama last November.
Last week Carolsue moved across the street (I mean this literally) from Mr. Richards. It would have been perfect for her to serve him. However, she had no phone or e-mail. My smoke signal device wasn't working either. So, I called Red. Who still hasn't done it. However, I have another one for her to take care of, but that is for another post (stay tuned).
Process Server 4: I keep this one in my back pocket--Baseball Guy. Though I have a phone number and an e-mail address for him, the easiest way to get in touch with him is through Carolsue (which is the same way I get in touch with Andy, my convicted murderer lawn guy). So, if she isn't available, she can subcontract to him.
At any rate, my deadbeats get served. But only in due time.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A Proud, Card-Carrying Member of Techo Dorks Anonymous
Marty Sunshine tells me he is an enterprise-level applications developer. Whatever that means. Just in case you know someone who is hiring for this kind of thing, he's available. To me, he is my lovable computer geek.
It is a good thing I have him, because I can't even install a simple print driver. And, I am not sure what that means either.
My incompetence in all things electronic seems to have few limits. The cell phone I got in December is way too complicated for me. It has a camera (phones have cameras!?) and now I have pictures on there I can't seem to transmit to the computer. I think I need to download a magic wand to activate it.
I only bring this up because it would be darn useful to be able to fax things to Bliz. Or, it would even be more useful if I could scan bills and send them to her. Sadly, something that sounds so simple to you, the casual reader, isn't so for me. I can manually hunt down tenants forever, just don't ask me to tell you about any electronic gadget that has the word "wireless" in it.
It isn't that I am afraid of technology. I just don't understand it. Nor do I really wish to invest six months of my life reading gobbledy gook that essentially boils down to one quick statement: "Marty, why is that thingy over there blinking?"
It is a good thing I have him, because I can't even install a simple print driver. And, I am not sure what that means either.
My incompetence in all things electronic seems to have few limits. The cell phone I got in December is way too complicated for me. It has a camera (phones have cameras!?) and now I have pictures on there I can't seem to transmit to the computer. I think I need to download a magic wand to activate it.
I only bring this up because it would be darn useful to be able to fax things to Bliz. Or, it would even be more useful if I could scan bills and send them to her. Sadly, something that sounds so simple to you, the casual reader, isn't so for me. I can manually hunt down tenants forever, just don't ask me to tell you about any electronic gadget that has the word "wireless" in it.
It isn't that I am afraid of technology. I just don't understand it. Nor do I really wish to invest six months of my life reading gobbledy gook that essentially boils down to one quick statement: "Marty, why is that thingy over there blinking?"
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Broken Panic Button
This past week, Mr. Partner finally realized the things I have been panicking about for months are legitimate. In a way, it was a relief that he was oblivious to the Summer 2008 Alabama Business Meltdown. It made last summer more bearable knowing I didn't have to have alpha-landlord slap fights with Mr. Partner. However, it would have been nice if he had been slightly cognizant to the after-effects--like our serious depletion of capital.
It isn't that I haven't been jumping up and down suggesting that we have some changes to make. Because, let me assure you, I have. And, it hasn't been just me preaching this. I distinctly remember Marty Sunshine sitting down with Mr. Partner last October and telling him: we needed a Plan B if the economy continued heading where it was heading.
Lo and behold! The economy is on that downhill run Marty predicted. Of course, there is the added bonus that Marty also lost his job, making us even more vulnerable.
Sitting tight and waiting it out is an option in times like this. However, before we sit back and reap the benefits (or spoils) of our labor, we really need to get everyone on board with the right assessment of what to do. NOW is the time for the Alpha-Landlord slap fight. And, I am ok if I sit on the sidelines for this one. Let someone else figure this out.
On Thursday, Mr. Partner sent me some information on what the pundents are predicting will be the short and long term affects of our economy and the stimulus plan. Mr. Partner (all 6' 5" of him) even told me he is "scared."
That's all well and good, but "scared" was months ago. Now it is time for action. We have some big-time decisions to make. Our success depends upon it.
It isn't that I haven't been jumping up and down suggesting that we have some changes to make. Because, let me assure you, I have. And, it hasn't been just me preaching this. I distinctly remember Marty Sunshine sitting down with Mr. Partner last October and telling him: we needed a Plan B if the economy continued heading where it was heading.
Lo and behold! The economy is on that downhill run Marty predicted. Of course, there is the added bonus that Marty also lost his job, making us even more vulnerable.
Sitting tight and waiting it out is an option in times like this. However, before we sit back and reap the benefits (or spoils) of our labor, we really need to get everyone on board with the right assessment of what to do. NOW is the time for the Alpha-Landlord slap fight. And, I am ok if I sit on the sidelines for this one. Let someone else figure this out.
On Thursday, Mr. Partner sent me some information on what the pundents are predicting will be the short and long term affects of our economy and the stimulus plan. Mr. Partner (all 6' 5" of him) even told me he is "scared."
That's all well and good, but "scared" was months ago. Now it is time for action. We have some big-time decisions to make. Our success depends upon it.
Friday, February 20, 2009
A Few Morsels
Easy as Pie
A while back, Mrs. Sherwood told me she needed an oven. I have since put her on a quest to find a range, report back to me the cost and I will cut her a check. Essentially, I the landlord, will pay for it. Just don't make me find it.
Mrs. Sherwood called today. I asked her about her oven search. She laughed and told me she was quite happy. Because of the lack of oven, she didn't have to host Thanksgiving and Christmas this past year. She isn't having to host Easter either. In fact, her husband has taken over the cooking. And, as far as she is concerned this is the best thing that has ever happened.
Sweet as Honey
One of my better tenants (whom I have never personally met) gave me a three month notice today. He needs to move when his lease is up. He asked if I had any homes available near where he wants to live because I "rock as a landlord." Sadly, I can't help him.
The Icing on the Cake
Ms. Batty, er... oops! that would be Ms. Betty, sent me an ultra-polite e-mail today announcing she and Mr. Betty wanted to buy my home. How much did I want for it? Though I am very happy to make an exception here, I usually insist on making my tenants rent to me for at least a year before I will sell to them. However I must tell you, if there was a way to get her out of my life, I would be happy to have them buy from me now. Unfortunately, last I checked (which was in late October 2008) these folks weren't going to be buying qualifying for a mortgage for a VERY long time.
Sigh... That's the way the cookie crumbles.
A while back, Mrs. Sherwood told me she needed an oven. I have since put her on a quest to find a range, report back to me the cost and I will cut her a check. Essentially, I the landlord, will pay for it. Just don't make me find it.
Mrs. Sherwood called today. I asked her about her oven search. She laughed and told me she was quite happy. Because of the lack of oven, she didn't have to host Thanksgiving and Christmas this past year. She isn't having to host Easter either. In fact, her husband has taken over the cooking. And, as far as she is concerned this is the best thing that has ever happened.
Sweet as Honey
One of my better tenants (whom I have never personally met) gave me a three month notice today. He needs to move when his lease is up. He asked if I had any homes available near where he wants to live because I "rock as a landlord." Sadly, I can't help him.
The Icing on the Cake
Ms. Batty, er... oops! that would be Ms. Betty, sent me an ultra-polite e-mail today announcing she and Mr. Betty wanted to buy my home. How much did I want for it? Though I am very happy to make an exception here, I usually insist on making my tenants rent to me for at least a year before I will sell to them. However I must tell you, if there was a way to get her out of my life, I would be happy to have them buy from me now. Unfortunately, last I checked (which was in late October 2008) these folks weren't going to be buying qualifying for a mortgage for a VERY long time.
Sigh... That's the way the cookie crumbles.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Insomnia
Last night I woke up thinking about our future to-do plans. The down housing market and state of the economy has significantly affected our little Alabama business. For a while, I was happy to remind myself of what was working. Now I need to start fixing those things that seriously need attention.
It is like having a car that needs tires, air conditioning and a radio antennae. For a while I was just happy to have any old transportation. Now I am looking at the tire tread and thinking, you know, this really needs a look-see.
Yesterday, I put a call into Mr. Partner to see if he was up for lunch. I really want to pick his brain about the future. I need to surround myself with people smarter than me to figure out how to fix some of our upcoming challenges. Mr. Partner may have fresh ideas. My ideas are stale.
Additionally, I have started doing a lot of reading. I am reminded of a Friends episode where the character Joey is reading "Little Woman" and comes to the part where Beth is ill and he is afraid Jo can't help her. The character Rachel offers to put the book in the freezer, as a way to abate Joey's fears and rid him from the scary plot line. Earlier this week, Bliz sent me the financials. If I could have crammed my computer into my freezer, I would have done so. I did not want to face the inevitable. I still don't. But it is part of being accountable.
It isn't only financial statement reading I am doing. I am fascinated by the current economic indicators, the housing market and how our future is going to gel with all that is going on in the world. What, if any, opportunities are available to us? If there aren't opportunities, then what? Nah... there are always opportunities.
I read this great line yesterday, "conformity strangles creativity." This is true in so many facets of life. Right now, I am applying it to our fledgling Alabama business. It will be creative solutions to get us through this. Because what has worked in the past isn't going to do us any good in the future.
It is like having a car that needs tires, air conditioning and a radio antennae. For a while I was just happy to have any old transportation. Now I am looking at the tire tread and thinking, you know, this really needs a look-see.
Yesterday, I put a call into Mr. Partner to see if he was up for lunch. I really want to pick his brain about the future. I need to surround myself with people smarter than me to figure out how to fix some of our upcoming challenges. Mr. Partner may have fresh ideas. My ideas are stale.
Additionally, I have started doing a lot of reading. I am reminded of a Friends episode where the character Joey is reading "Little Woman" and comes to the part where Beth is ill and he is afraid Jo can't help her. The character Rachel offers to put the book in the freezer, as a way to abate Joey's fears and rid him from the scary plot line. Earlier this week, Bliz sent me the financials. If I could have crammed my computer into my freezer, I would have done so. I did not want to face the inevitable. I still don't. But it is part of being accountable.
It isn't only financial statement reading I am doing. I am fascinated by the current economic indicators, the housing market and how our future is going to gel with all that is going on in the world. What, if any, opportunities are available to us? If there aren't opportunities, then what? Nah... there are always opportunities.
I read this great line yesterday, "conformity strangles creativity." This is true in so many facets of life. Right now, I am applying it to our fledgling Alabama business. It will be creative solutions to get us through this. Because what has worked in the past isn't going to do us any good in the future.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Adios
I haven't been sleeping well. Two nights ago I was having anxiety dreams about Mr. Richards. That prompted a call to my friendly process server to give Mr. Richards yet another love letter. My rule is when my anxiety manifests itself in a dream, it is time to move on.
And, more importantly, it is time for Mr. Richards to move on. He is the worst tenant I have right now. I don't care if he is a flake. He can be someone else's flake for a while. It has gotten to the point where I feel like I am begging for the rent. That is when I know the end is near. And, he hasn't returned my phone calls from last week. Usually he is really good about that. In the past when he tells me he is sending money, he does it. This time he sent in part of the money, but not all.
Good bye Mr. Richards.
And, more importantly, it is time for Mr. Richards to move on. He is the worst tenant I have right now. I don't care if he is a flake. He can be someone else's flake for a while. It has gotten to the point where I feel like I am begging for the rent. That is when I know the end is near. And, he hasn't returned my phone calls from last week. Usually he is really good about that. In the past when he tells me he is sending money, he does it. This time he sent in part of the money, but not all.
Good bye Mr. Richards.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
The Medication is Kicking In
I have a family member who bites the heads off of people when she doesn't get her way. A few weeks ago she asked if we could pick her up at the airport. Her flight would be getting in at midnight. Given her circumstances, I suggested she change her flight. That's when she went ballistic. Because of her behavior, she had to find a different ride.
Ms. Betty is similar to this. This past week, I have been bombarded with unusual e-mails from her with varying levels of caustic. The ones with lye are easier to read than the ones peppered with sulfuric acid. None are acceptable.
Her latest e-mail to me was coated with sugar. She is back to not calling me by my first name, but politely referring to me as Ms. Landlord. She mentioned she was sorry to cause me worry (whatever that means). The way I have been handling her is just to stick with the facts and answer her questions. when was her check cashed? What bank cashed it?
I am not conversing with her or getting sucked into her weirdness. I have successfully suppressed the overwhelming urge to tell her to jump in the lake. My e-mails are brief and factual. I am putting all of the drama in here for you to hear about.
Ms. Betty is similar to this. This past week, I have been bombarded with unusual e-mails from her with varying levels of caustic. The ones with lye are easier to read than the ones peppered with sulfuric acid. None are acceptable.
Her latest e-mail to me was coated with sugar. She is back to not calling me by my first name, but politely referring to me as Ms. Landlord. She mentioned she was sorry to cause me worry (whatever that means). The way I have been handling her is just to stick with the facts and answer her questions. when was her check cashed? What bank cashed it?
I am not conversing with her or getting sucked into her weirdness. I have successfully suppressed the overwhelming urge to tell her to jump in the lake. My e-mails are brief and factual. I am putting all of the drama in here for you to hear about.
Salt in the Wound
Ms. Betty is at it again. I am starting to even think the people in Leeds don't deserve to have someone like her living on their street. And they are a rough bunch.
Note to Ms. Betty: the first chance I get to kick you out, all bets are off.
Note to Ms. Betty: the first chance I get to kick you out, all bets are off.
Monday, February 16, 2009
I Hate It When That Happens
My CPA, who moved to nowhere Oregon last year, is in town for tax season. This is wonderful for me, as sending several sets of documents via carrier pigeon to the outskirts of the Pacific Northwest wasn't very appealing. And more importantly, I happen to really like the guy.
I had breakfast with my CPA last Friday. We discussed the state of the economy and our predictions for the future. He told me about how his grandfathers both worked on the Hoover Dam in 1931. We talked about his summers while in high school living in Tuba City Arizona, instead of working at the Tropicana in Las Vegas--where he wanted to be as a 16 year old lad in the 1950s (he grew up in Vegas). We updated each other on our spouses. I gave him a brief rundown on the kids, Marty's job situation and my opinion of the Phoenix real estate market. I even shared stories with him about the year I spent in Burlington Vermont as a teenager.
Oops! We never got around to discussing my taxes.
I had breakfast with my CPA last Friday. We discussed the state of the economy and our predictions for the future. He told me about how his grandfathers both worked on the Hoover Dam in 1931. We talked about his summers while in high school living in Tuba City Arizona, instead of working at the Tropicana in Las Vegas--where he wanted to be as a 16 year old lad in the 1950s (he grew up in Vegas). We updated each other on our spouses. I gave him a brief rundown on the kids, Marty's job situation and my opinion of the Phoenix real estate market. I even shared stories with him about the year I spent in Burlington Vermont as a teenager.
Oops! We never got around to discussing my taxes.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Suturing the Claw Marks
Ms. Betty has officially transformed from sweet Southern woman to vapid raging bitch.
This week I got a letter from her saying something to the affect that I wasn't cashing her rent checks fast enough. I don't know what "fast enough" really means. So, I did the only thing I could think of when faced with an insane statement. I ignored her, naively chalking her terse letter to a lack of polished writing skills.
The other day, she followed up with an snippy e-mail, telling me I was "messing with her checkbook" by not cashing her checks the day I receive them.
Ms. Betty doesn't know which day her rent is delivered to my PO Box. And, if I don't go to the PO Box for a week, the check just sits there anyway. But, somehow I am responsible for her finances being in disarray. It gives me cause to wonder if the water, gas and electric companies have also been privy to such treatment.
I am not sure what I am personally supposed to do. If she doesn't know how to use a checkbook register or more importantly, manage her finances, there is little guidance I can provide at this point.
This time, I responded to her e-mail with what I thought to be a friendly suggestion that she might want to send a cashier's check in the future if it was too much of an issue to wait for her check to be cashed. I personally thought it was a grand idea. From her inexcusably snotty response, apparently I inadvertently touched another nerve.
The way I figure it, the underlying subtext of Ms. Betty's e-mail was was that her money situation is too chaotic for me to let any check from her sit around for a day or two. Good to know! I will get to the bank right away.
Just a quick tip: Ms. Betty's bizarrely snide notes to me pretty much lost her any future favors. I don't mind a cordial relationship. I draw the line at downright rude and nasty. The adage is correct: you can catch a lot my flies with honey.
Marty Sunshine, the eternal optimist, pointed out Ms. Betty is probably frustrated about something else and it is landing as a money issue with me as the bad guy. And, my untimely bank run this week is a minor frustration manifesting itself as a big-ass problem in her life.
My thought is that she is pregnant and the hormones have taken over.
Neither of which excuses her behavior.
This week I got a letter from her saying something to the affect that I wasn't cashing her rent checks fast enough. I don't know what "fast enough" really means. So, I did the only thing I could think of when faced with an insane statement. I ignored her, naively chalking her terse letter to a lack of polished writing skills.
The other day, she followed up with an snippy e-mail, telling me I was "messing with her checkbook" by not cashing her checks the day I receive them.
Ms. Betty doesn't know which day her rent is delivered to my PO Box. And, if I don't go to the PO Box for a week, the check just sits there anyway. But, somehow I am responsible for her finances being in disarray. It gives me cause to wonder if the water, gas and electric companies have also been privy to such treatment.
I am not sure what I am personally supposed to do. If she doesn't know how to use a checkbook register or more importantly, manage her finances, there is little guidance I can provide at this point.
This time, I responded to her e-mail with what I thought to be a friendly suggestion that she might want to send a cashier's check in the future if it was too much of an issue to wait for her check to be cashed. I personally thought it was a grand idea. From her inexcusably snotty response, apparently I inadvertently touched another nerve.
The way I figure it, the underlying subtext of Ms. Betty's e-mail was was that her money situation is too chaotic for me to let any check from her sit around for a day or two. Good to know! I will get to the bank right away.
Just a quick tip: Ms. Betty's bizarrely snide notes to me pretty much lost her any future favors. I don't mind a cordial relationship. I draw the line at downright rude and nasty. The adage is correct: you can catch a lot my flies with honey.
Marty Sunshine, the eternal optimist, pointed out Ms. Betty is probably frustrated about something else and it is landing as a money issue with me as the bad guy. And, my untimely bank run this week is a minor frustration manifesting itself as a big-ass problem in her life.
My thought is that she is pregnant and the hormones have taken over.
Neither of which excuses her behavior.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Howdy Partners
Because I am financially obligated to my partners, last week, we immediately disclosed Marty’s job situation to Mr. Partner and Jack. Our personal goal is to make sure our financial crisis doesn't become our partners' financial crisis. So far neither seem too concerned. They understand the risks and rewards we all take. They are true investors.
Marty Sunshine and I have grown as investors and have honed our skills and our expectations. Just like my tolerance for crummy tenants has plummeted, so has my tolerance for so-called investors who have read half of the first a chapter of the latest make-money in real estate book. I will never again invest with someone who just approaches me just for my expertise. It isn’t that I mind sharing what I know. I just don’t want to be involved with someone who can’t stomach a broken hot water heater.
A major reaction from people who hear about what we do is simply to tell me about all the bad stuff they think I experience. They never say, “Wow! That’s great. You must like what you do.” Instead, I get well-meaning cliche's like, “I would not want to deal with an overflowing toilet at 2 a.m.”
Neither would I. I have never gotten a call at 2 a.m. from a tenant. In fact, at 2 a.m. a tenant would get my voice mail.
Overflowing toilets are a minor an issue. Broken air conditioners don’t scare me. Frustrated tenants don’t bother me. Hell, deadbeats don’t phase me any more. It isn’t that I enjoy these dramas, it is just that the great majority of the time I don’t encounter these issues. For the most part, I have excellent tenants. My homes are in good condition. I don’t like junky homes and expect my properties to be in good working order. I expect this of my own home too.
Marty and I are looking at expanding what we are doing. I don’t know exactly what this will look like just yet. But, my expectation is anyone who comes with me better have the right stuff.
My ideal partners must be able to read and understand financial statements. I don’t want to explain for the twelfth time why net income is different than revenue.
My ideal partners must understand things break. It isn't the end of the world when something doesn't work right. A home is a tangible asset, not a stock certificate. Homes aren't perfect. Pipes leak, rats happen. Having someone (a tenant) guard your property also causes unknowns. I have had great tenants leave. They didn't have an obligation to me. Their lease was up. They moved on. It wasn't personal. That doesn't change anything. Properties are sometimes vacant.
My ideal partners must be willing to give input but step back when necessary. You can have the vision. If you share it with me, we will both win. However, you cannot have a say in the plumber or the lawyer. I have developed a relationship with good quality vendors. They stay.
My ideal partners must look at a house like a piece of meat. They are not treasured homes to be decorated. That is your own property.
My ideal partners will understand the ups and downs of real estate investing. They will keep their drama in check. I have plenty without them.
My ideal partners will have patience for their money. Real estate is a long-term investment vehicle. These folks will understand this is a means to an end, because they too are true investors.
Marty Sunshine and I have grown as investors and have honed our skills and our expectations. Just like my tolerance for crummy tenants has plummeted, so has my tolerance for so-called investors who have read half of the first a chapter of the latest make-money in real estate book. I will never again invest with someone who just approaches me just for my expertise. It isn’t that I mind sharing what I know. I just don’t want to be involved with someone who can’t stomach a broken hot water heater.
A major reaction from people who hear about what we do is simply to tell me about all the bad stuff they think I experience. They never say, “Wow! That’s great. You must like what you do.” Instead, I get well-meaning cliche's like, “I would not want to deal with an overflowing toilet at 2 a.m.”
Neither would I. I have never gotten a call at 2 a.m. from a tenant. In fact, at 2 a.m. a tenant would get my voice mail.
Overflowing toilets are a minor an issue. Broken air conditioners don’t scare me. Frustrated tenants don’t bother me. Hell, deadbeats don’t phase me any more. It isn’t that I enjoy these dramas, it is just that the great majority of the time I don’t encounter these issues. For the most part, I have excellent tenants. My homes are in good condition. I don’t like junky homes and expect my properties to be in good working order. I expect this of my own home too.
Marty and I are looking at expanding what we are doing. I don’t know exactly what this will look like just yet. But, my expectation is anyone who comes with me better have the right stuff.
My ideal partners must be able to read and understand financial statements. I don’t want to explain for the twelfth time why net income is different than revenue.
My ideal partners must understand things break. It isn't the end of the world when something doesn't work right. A home is a tangible asset, not a stock certificate. Homes aren't perfect. Pipes leak, rats happen. Having someone (a tenant) guard your property also causes unknowns. I have had great tenants leave. They didn't have an obligation to me. Their lease was up. They moved on. It wasn't personal. That doesn't change anything. Properties are sometimes vacant.
My ideal partners must be willing to give input but step back when necessary. You can have the vision. If you share it with me, we will both win. However, you cannot have a say in the plumber or the lawyer. I have developed a relationship with good quality vendors. They stay.
My ideal partners must look at a house like a piece of meat. They are not treasured homes to be decorated. That is your own property.
My ideal partners will understand the ups and downs of real estate investing. They will keep their drama in check. I have plenty without them.
My ideal partners will have patience for their money. Real estate is a long-term investment vehicle. These folks will understand this is a means to an end, because they too are true investors.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Jack
In 2007, Jack, my real estate agent approached us about partnering. This time we knew better.
Before we went any further, Jack and I discussed capital. We talked extensively about expectations. We talked about the kind of business model we wished to use—which is significantly different than what we were doing currently. We gave him our credentials. We got a list of his credentials. He knows my experience. I know his experience. Neither of us are green to the landlord game. Neither of us are green to the business of being in business. This time we knew what we were doing. We drew up some documents and voila! a partnership was formed.
Jack is an exceptional partner. I wish I had more Jacks in my life. So far, we have bought one home. Although this isn’t ideal, this is the best we can do right now. I am certain there will be other homes in our future. Although with Marty’s employment future uncertain, I don’t know when we can change this. Perhaps another home will be in the works once Marty finds a job.
Although I am not crazy about the one home game, this one is ok. First, I have someone locally to manage it if necessary. Second, we bought it for the right price. The property is turning a very slight profit. But, we are ok with that. We all know what we were getting into.
Before we went any further, Jack and I discussed capital. We talked extensively about expectations. We talked about the kind of business model we wished to use—which is significantly different than what we were doing currently. We gave him our credentials. We got a list of his credentials. He knows my experience. I know his experience. Neither of us are green to the landlord game. Neither of us are green to the business of being in business. This time we knew what we were doing. We drew up some documents and voila! a partnership was formed.
Jack is an exceptional partner. I wish I had more Jacks in my life. So far, we have bought one home. Although this isn’t ideal, this is the best we can do right now. I am certain there will be other homes in our future. Although with Marty’s employment future uncertain, I don’t know when we can change this. Perhaps another home will be in the works once Marty finds a job.
Although I am not crazy about the one home game, this one is ok. First, I have someone locally to manage it if necessary. Second, we bought it for the right price. The property is turning a very slight profit. But, we are ok with that. We all know what we were getting into.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Mr. Partner
Mr. Partner has owned rental properties for twenty years. In fact, as his real estate agent, I have helped him buy and sell several of his homes. Though his enthusiasm is a bit overwhelming, the main thing that has really been a saving grace is Mr. Partner has always looked at what we are doing as a business—not an investment, or worse, a hobby.
For the first few years, Mr. Partner and I clashed. Two alpha landlords with quick tempers is not a good way to run any business. And, given that I am the managing partner—something written in our contract from the beginning, I was pretty sure this was my turf.
Mr. Partner has never really fully comprehended this. At least now we do have some sort unspoken agreement. And our truce slightly stronger than anything the Middle East may produce.
During one of the more maddening occasions with Mr. Partner, Marty Sunshine and I went out and bought some properties without him. Mr. Partner’s antics at the time were too annoying to deal with. Once Mr. Partner realized we still didn't need him, he became much more cooperative.
It isn’t that Mr. Partner doesn’t deserve to know what is going on. In fact, I feel very strongly in keeping Mr. Partner appraised at all times. It is that I don’t really have the time or energy to run to him every time we need a plumber/exterminator/convicted murderer lawn guy. He hears about repairs in a timely fashion. If something will cost an extraordinary amount of money, he hears about it sooner than later. He's good with that as well. Keeping him posted ensures I have more credibility. After all, it is his money too.
Once Mr. Partner got the bug invest, we began expanding very quickly. Mr. Partner has a maniacal streak. Our credit is exceptional. Money was cheap. Loans were easy to get. So we bought and bought. We grew fast, not smart.
The good news about this business model is when we do have a vacant home, we aren’t panicking. The bad news is when we have a situation like last June where we had three vacancies, two evictions and one bankruptcy in the same month, it can be harrowing. However, three vacancies, two evictions and one bankruptcy all at once doesn’t usually happen. And, if you are taking notes, it shouldn’t happen to you. It would be akin to lightening striking the same place six times in a row.
to be continued
For the first few years, Mr. Partner and I clashed. Two alpha landlords with quick tempers is not a good way to run any business. And, given that I am the managing partner—something written in our contract from the beginning, I was pretty sure this was my turf.
Mr. Partner has never really fully comprehended this. At least now we do have some sort unspoken agreement. And our truce slightly stronger than anything the Middle East may produce.
During one of the more maddening occasions with Mr. Partner, Marty Sunshine and I went out and bought some properties without him. Mr. Partner’s antics at the time were too annoying to deal with. Once Mr. Partner realized we still didn't need him, he became much more cooperative.
It isn’t that Mr. Partner doesn’t deserve to know what is going on. In fact, I feel very strongly in keeping Mr. Partner appraised at all times. It is that I don’t really have the time or energy to run to him every time we need a plumber/exterminator/convicted murderer lawn guy. He hears about repairs in a timely fashion. If something will cost an extraordinary amount of money, he hears about it sooner than later. He's good with that as well. Keeping him posted ensures I have more credibility. After all, it is his money too.
Once Mr. Partner got the bug invest, we began expanding very quickly. Mr. Partner has a maniacal streak. Our credit is exceptional. Money was cheap. Loans were easy to get. So we bought and bought. We grew fast, not smart.
The good news about this business model is when we do have a vacant home, we aren’t panicking. The bad news is when we have a situation like last June where we had three vacancies, two evictions and one bankruptcy in the same month, it can be harrowing. However, three vacancies, two evictions and one bankruptcy all at once doesn’t usually happen. And, if you are taking notes, it shouldn’t happen to you. It would be akin to lightening striking the same place six times in a row.
to be continued
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Vance
Vance, a man who invests primarily in stocks and does a considerable amount of day trading, was looking for a quarterly profit. We had enough homes that this was working out ok. If there was $100 dollars profit sitting out there, he wanted his share.
The issue this caused was it did not leave us money for emergencies. If something broke, I had to call him and ask for money. “Don’t we have the money to fix it?” he would ask. I would then explain for the zillionth time, no. Because he wanted all the profits divvyed out last quarter our bank account was low.
Vance wasn’t afraid of risk the way Jim was. But, he wanted everything he invested back out as soon as possible. That is why day trading is so appealing to him.
One of the properties we owned, we had purchased before the Phoenix real estate boom. Because the tenant moved out a year later—in the middle of the real estate boom—we sold it for a mind-blowing profit. Vance thought I was a genius. When the next property became vacant in a similar fashion but the timing wasn’t as great, Vance changed his opinion. Mind you, Vance made a profit on this property too. It was just not the mind-blowing anomaly we had seen the year before.
In 2007 when the Good Pastor was booted out, it was too much of a strain on Vance’s good humor. It cut into our profits. The frustration of uncertainty got to be too much for his reserved nature. He had never dealt with a deadbeat before (neither had I—and all Vance got was updates from me).
All of the landlord horror stories Vance had heard danced in his head. This was no longer the investment tool for him. He panicked. He questioned everything: “Why haven’t they paid? Why did you pick those people? Why did you select this house? Why? Why? Why?” It was very difficult not to take Vance’s questioning personally. In fact, I took it very personally.
It is my opinion—I have nothing to base this on other than a few comments Vance shared with me that I have strung together as well as his uncharacteristic actions and erratic behavior—that Vance got himself into some sort of serious financial hardship. I truly believe this played a major role in Vance’s behavior.
The homes are still there. There are new renters. They are cash flowing. But one bad situation and Vance was through.
Mr. Partner bought out Vance’s interests last year.
to be continued
The issue this caused was it did not leave us money for emergencies. If something broke, I had to call him and ask for money. “Don’t we have the money to fix it?” he would ask. I would then explain for the zillionth time, no. Because he wanted all the profits divvyed out last quarter our bank account was low.
Vance wasn’t afraid of risk the way Jim was. But, he wanted everything he invested back out as soon as possible. That is why day trading is so appealing to him.
One of the properties we owned, we had purchased before the Phoenix real estate boom. Because the tenant moved out a year later—in the middle of the real estate boom—we sold it for a mind-blowing profit. Vance thought I was a genius. When the next property became vacant in a similar fashion but the timing wasn’t as great, Vance changed his opinion. Mind you, Vance made a profit on this property too. It was just not the mind-blowing anomaly we had seen the year before.
In 2007 when the Good Pastor was booted out, it was too much of a strain on Vance’s good humor. It cut into our profits. The frustration of uncertainty got to be too much for his reserved nature. He had never dealt with a deadbeat before (neither had I—and all Vance got was updates from me).
All of the landlord horror stories Vance had heard danced in his head. This was no longer the investment tool for him. He panicked. He questioned everything: “Why haven’t they paid? Why did you pick those people? Why did you select this house? Why? Why? Why?” It was very difficult not to take Vance’s questioning personally. In fact, I took it very personally.
It is my opinion—I have nothing to base this on other than a few comments Vance shared with me that I have strung together as well as his uncharacteristic actions and erratic behavior—that Vance got himself into some sort of serious financial hardship. I truly believe this played a major role in Vance’s behavior.
The homes are still there. There are new renters. They are cash flowing. But one bad situation and Vance was through.
Mr. Partner bought out Vance’s interests last year.
to be continued
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Jim
The three LLCs were very different. Jim turned out to be seriously risk averse. And, he was only willing to purchase one home. This was naivety on our part. Given we had two partners who wanted multiple homes, we just assumed any new partners wanted multiple homes. At the time Jim approached us, we did not know he had no intentions of expanding past one property. And, in all fairness, he may not have known either.
One rental property does not work well. With several rentals, if one property needs a stove, or the tenant doesn't make a payment, the other properties can carry the load. Additionally, if one has a solitary rental property, and there is a mortgage on it, there won’t be much profit after a year. The property may turn a small profit and it provides a nice tax shelter, but generally one property isn’t a make or break investment vehicle. One property means waiting for the home to appreciate in value, selling it, taking the capital gains hit or converting it into a 1031 tax deferred exchange and doing it again.
Additionally, Jim was surprised when I started managing the partnership. This of course, was written into the contract from the beginning. And, he had no experience or time to do so anyway. I called the shots. I picked the bookkeeper (the same one managing my other LLCs), I picked the tenant. If something broke, I got it fixed and wrote the check on the LLCs behalf. Until this happened, Jim really didn't know this would bother him. In fact, I don't think Jim knew what to expect when we signed up to work together. But, for him this was too little control. In short, our goals and expectations were very different.
Mr. Partner bought out Jim’s interest a year later.
to be continued
One rental property does not work well. With several rentals, if one property needs a stove, or the tenant doesn't make a payment, the other properties can carry the load. Additionally, if one has a solitary rental property, and there is a mortgage on it, there won’t be much profit after a year. The property may turn a small profit and it provides a nice tax shelter, but generally one property isn’t a make or break investment vehicle. One property means waiting for the home to appreciate in value, selling it, taking the capital gains hit or converting it into a 1031 tax deferred exchange and doing it again.
Additionally, Jim was surprised when I started managing the partnership. This of course, was written into the contract from the beginning. And, he had no experience or time to do so anyway. I called the shots. I picked the bookkeeper (the same one managing my other LLCs), I picked the tenant. If something broke, I got it fixed and wrote the check on the LLCs behalf. Until this happened, Jim really didn't know this would bother him. In fact, I don't think Jim knew what to expect when we signed up to work together. But, for him this was too little control. In short, our goals and expectations were very different.
Mr. Partner bought out Jim’s interest a year later.
to be continued
Monday, February 09, 2009
The Partner Dance
Back in the day, we took any business partner who came along. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. After all, without them, I wouldn't have this many homes in Alabama and I wouldn't have so much to write about.
Originally Mr. Partner approached Marty about real estate investing. Just like us, Mr. Partner owned properties in the Phoenix metro area. We had no conceivable idea what this really meant. A partnership sounded good to us. Half the risk sounded good to us. Some documents were drawn up, and voila! a partnership was formed.
Around the exact same time, Vance, a quiet reserved man, approached my husband about perhaps investing together. Vance primarily invested in the stock market. He wasn't a real estate investor and wanted to capitalize on our limited experience (two rentals in the Phoenix area). We drew up some documents and voila! a partnership was formed.
Here's where it got interesting. Mr. Partner, Vance and Marty all work at the same place (or at least Marty works there for a few more weeks). Mr. Partner, excited about this new venture, told anyone in a half mile radius about how great this was he and Marty were going to be real estate partners. Mr. Partner is one of those doesn't-have-much-private-in-his-private-life kinds of folks. Vance never told a soul--and we appreciate his discretion. In fact, Mr. Partner didn't know we were also partnering with Vance.
Although Mr. Partner was excited about this great union, every property we approached him about was turned down. This house was too new... This house was too old... This house wasn't waterproof and that could cause potential issues when the next ice age came along...
This went on for more than a year.
This was a stark contrast to Vance. I would approach him about a home. Give him the numbers (which I also did with Mr. Partner) and he would say in his reverent manner, "Yes, that looks very good." And, we would end up with a home.
Along came our transition to Alabama. Given that we had three homes with Vance and Mr. Partner really wanted to buy something, we went to Mr. Partner first. We gave him the numbers and said, "What do you think? Do you want to invest in Alabama?". Nope. The home was too far away. Too much risk.
We then approached Vance. He said, "Yes, this looks very good."
By this time, I had given up on Mr. Partner. We had a good thing going with Vance. Two more homes in Alabama and Mr. Partner got a clue. We didn't need him. Mr. Partner had figured this out and was none-too-happy. He wanted investment properties. We were no longer investing in Phoenix (the real estate market got too high). After a moment of clarity Mr. Partner realized if he wanted to invest with us, he would have to look to the South. So, he jumped on the Bama bandwagon.
As soon as he decided Alabama was the greatest place to buy rental homes--ever, Mr. Partner began telling his co-workers about what a great concept it was to invest out of state. Given he hadn't actually purchased anything with us, I appreciated his vote of confidence.
About six months into our Alabama adventure, another of Marty Sunshine's coworkers approached us about what we were doing. Jim had heard about our greatly exaggerated success of owning two properties (neither with Mr. Partner--his source) in Alabama. This time, we had financial statements. So, we showed Jim our overall vision. He had never invested in real estate and this looked good to him. A week later, we drew up some documents and voila! a partnership was formed.
to be continued
Originally Mr. Partner approached Marty about real estate investing. Just like us, Mr. Partner owned properties in the Phoenix metro area. We had no conceivable idea what this really meant. A partnership sounded good to us. Half the risk sounded good to us. Some documents were drawn up, and voila! a partnership was formed.
Around the exact same time, Vance, a quiet reserved man, approached my husband about perhaps investing together. Vance primarily invested in the stock market. He wasn't a real estate investor and wanted to capitalize on our limited experience (two rentals in the Phoenix area). We drew up some documents and voila! a partnership was formed.
Here's where it got interesting. Mr. Partner, Vance and Marty all work at the same place (or at least Marty works there for a few more weeks). Mr. Partner, excited about this new venture, told anyone in a half mile radius about how great this was he and Marty were going to be real estate partners. Mr. Partner is one of those doesn't-have-much-private-in-his-private-life kinds of folks. Vance never told a soul--and we appreciate his discretion. In fact, Mr. Partner didn't know we were also partnering with Vance.
Although Mr. Partner was excited about this great union, every property we approached him about was turned down. This house was too new... This house was too old... This house wasn't waterproof and that could cause potential issues when the next ice age came along...
This went on for more than a year.
This was a stark contrast to Vance. I would approach him about a home. Give him the numbers (which I also did with Mr. Partner) and he would say in his reverent manner, "Yes, that looks very good." And, we would end up with a home.
Along came our transition to Alabama. Given that we had three homes with Vance and Mr. Partner really wanted to buy something, we went to Mr. Partner first. We gave him the numbers and said, "What do you think? Do you want to invest in Alabama?". Nope. The home was too far away. Too much risk.
We then approached Vance. He said, "Yes, this looks very good."
By this time, I had given up on Mr. Partner. We had a good thing going with Vance. Two more homes in Alabama and Mr. Partner got a clue. We didn't need him. Mr. Partner had figured this out and was none-too-happy. He wanted investment properties. We were no longer investing in Phoenix (the real estate market got too high). After a moment of clarity Mr. Partner realized if he wanted to invest with us, he would have to look to the South. So, he jumped on the Bama bandwagon.
As soon as he decided Alabama was the greatest place to buy rental homes--ever, Mr. Partner began telling his co-workers about what a great concept it was to invest out of state. Given he hadn't actually purchased anything with us, I appreciated his vote of confidence.
About six months into our Alabama adventure, another of Marty Sunshine's coworkers approached us about what we were doing. Jim had heard about our greatly exaggerated success of owning two properties (neither with Mr. Partner--his source) in Alabama. This time, we had financial statements. So, we showed Jim our overall vision. He had never invested in real estate and this looked good to him. A week later, we drew up some documents and voila! a partnership was formed.
to be continued
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Once Upon a Time...
A bit of background. Marty Sunshine and I married in 1998 after four years of dating. So, I knew him well enough to know what I was getting into. Same for him.
Marty is extraordinarily ambitious. He is brilliant, disciplined and driven. He is the visionary. I am the worker bee.
We both came from very meager means growing up. Neither of our families knew how know to manage money. Hence, when we got married, we didn't know how to manage money either.
Right after my daughter was born, I cut back on my client list (I was doing free lance writing and public relations) but we still needed money. At one point, we bartered some of our wedding present for babysitting so I could work. There were days we scraped together enough money for diapers. It was lean times. We didn't know what we were doing right or wrong. We just were focused on surviving.
Marty, who did not want to live like this, started reading about wealth building. He was trying to get me interested in the same. I had no interest. I was overwhelmed with an infant, sleep deprived and juggling my freelance and public relations clients.
Marty Sunshine's desire for investing caused a bone of contention between us. He wanted to move our lives past just surviving. I couldn't see past my fantasy of one good night's sleep.
In a memorable argument, he asked what it would take to get me on the path to wealth building. I flippantly said, “real estate.” I figured it would never happen.
Marty is extraordinarily ambitious. He is brilliant, disciplined and driven. He is the visionary. I am the worker bee.
We both came from very meager means growing up. Neither of our families knew how know to manage money. Hence, when we got married, we didn't know how to manage money either.
Right after my daughter was born, I cut back on my client list (I was doing free lance writing and public relations) but we still needed money. At one point, we bartered some of our wedding present for babysitting so I could work. There were days we scraped together enough money for diapers. It was lean times. We didn't know what we were doing right or wrong. We just were focused on surviving.
Marty, who did not want to live like this, started reading about wealth building. He was trying to get me interested in the same. I had no interest. I was overwhelmed with an infant, sleep deprived and juggling my freelance and public relations clients.
Marty Sunshine's desire for investing caused a bone of contention between us. He wanted to move our lives past just surviving. I couldn't see past my fantasy of one good night's sleep.
In a memorable argument, he asked what it would take to get me on the path to wealth building. I flippantly said, “real estate.” I figured it would never happen.
Friday, February 06, 2009
She Likes Me, She Really Likes Me
Dear, sweet Ms. Betty isn't disappointing. Today she sent me an e-mail asking for my address. Getting an e-mail from her was a first. I guess the whole calling long distance got a bit tedious. I was getting concerned. I hadn't heard from in about 10 days.
As it has only been one week since the last piece of mail from her, I was kind of surprised she needed my address again. But, if it gets me the rent (as well as a few more pictures of her family), that's great too.
In my reply e-mail, I pointed out my address is on the lease. Page one.
As it has only been one week since the last piece of mail from her, I was kind of surprised she needed my address again. But, if it gets me the rent (as well as a few more pictures of her family), that's great too.
In my reply e-mail, I pointed out my address is on the lease. Page one.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Bliz
What would I do without my bookkeeper Bliz? Lately she has been doling out the love. For that, I am grateful.
For example on Sunday when she knew I had given up hope, she Twittered me saying: "Turn on the game." It was the fourth quarter. The Cardinals had come from behind.
Tuesday I lamented that I did NOT, under any circumstances, want to live with my mother-in-law when Marty lost his job (she offered). Bliz jumped right in and said, "You wont. You can come live with me." I don't know if this meant just me or my entire family. And, because she didn't exactly check with Mr. Bliz and we aren't homeless yet, it really isn't an issue. But, the sentiment made me teary anyway.
Yesterday, I mentioned I was avoiding taxes by taking the kids to the park. Hey! It was too a nice day to spend crunching numbers and doing data entry. Bliz knew better. I got a message from her telling me to get back to the taxes. As always, she had my best interests at heart.
I really don't know what I would do without Bliz. At this moment, I am not doing the taxes even with her. But, I appreciate her nonetheless.
For example on Sunday when she knew I had given up hope, she Twittered me saying: "Turn on the game." It was the fourth quarter. The Cardinals had come from behind.
Tuesday I lamented that I did NOT, under any circumstances, want to live with my mother-in-law when Marty lost his job (she offered). Bliz jumped right in and said, "You wont. You can come live with me." I don't know if this meant just me or my entire family. And, because she didn't exactly check with Mr. Bliz and we aren't homeless yet, it really isn't an issue. But, the sentiment made me teary anyway.
Yesterday, I mentioned I was avoiding taxes by taking the kids to the park. Hey! It was too a nice day to spend crunching numbers and doing data entry. Bliz knew better. I got a message from her telling me to get back to the taxes. As always, she had my best interests at heart.
I really don't know what I would do without Bliz. At this moment, I am not doing the taxes even with her. But, I appreciate her nonetheless.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
An Observation
Mrs. Martin is leaving. She expects to be out by next week. In her e-mails to me, she kept saying how sorry she is for disappointing me. I thought that was interesting.
I happen to think Mrs. Martin is a good, hardworking, ethical person who is doing the best with what she has been handed. When she moved in, there was a Mr. Martin. He has since voluntarily left the picture. She isn't a victim. She fully admits to her choices. And, instead of asking for help, she is just dealing with it. She flat out told me once, she is setting an example to her daughters of what not to do. She tells them often, "Don't make these kinds of mistakes. Don't do this to your children."
It floored me to think that perhaps Mrs. Martin felt she needed to break her back not to disappoint me--a perfect stranger. Maybe I am reading more into this than is really there. But, she has brought up the not wanting to disappoint me thing about six times. I think she means it.
I am not disappointed. I am pleased she won't be working extra hard for to keep afloat any more. I am pleased she won't be a slave to her home anymore. She won't be struggling to raise for children while working overtime and handling all the responsibilities for two parents and life in general throw at her.
Yes, I want her to succeed. But I want her to succeed in her life, not in where she lives. I can get new tenants. Her kids can't get a new mother. They need her more than I need an unreliable, stressed out tenant.
I happen to think Mrs. Martin is a good, hardworking, ethical person who is doing the best with what she has been handed. When she moved in, there was a Mr. Martin. He has since voluntarily left the picture. She isn't a victim. She fully admits to her choices. And, instead of asking for help, she is just dealing with it. She flat out told me once, she is setting an example to her daughters of what not to do. She tells them often, "Don't make these kinds of mistakes. Don't do this to your children."
It floored me to think that perhaps Mrs. Martin felt she needed to break her back not to disappoint me--a perfect stranger. Maybe I am reading more into this than is really there. But, she has brought up the not wanting to disappoint me thing about six times. I think she means it.
I am not disappointed. I am pleased she won't be working extra hard for to keep afloat any more. I am pleased she won't be a slave to her home anymore. She won't be struggling to raise for children while working overtime and handling all the responsibilities for two parents and life in general throw at her.
Yes, I want her to succeed. But I want her to succeed in her life, not in where she lives. I can get new tenants. Her kids can't get a new mother. They need her more than I need an unreliable, stressed out tenant.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
The Rainbow Maker
Have I mentioned my guy Marty Sunshine? He is the love of my life, the father of my children and my best friend. What more could a girl ask for?
This past week, Marty's company announced layoffs and Marty ended up as the receipent of a pretty pink piece of paper. He has been given a few weeks to find a job within his company before all bets are off.
In his usual Marty Sunshine way, he is handling this as an opportunity. So what if there are rain clouds? That will just make a stunning rainbow when the storm passes! Yep, that's my guy.
One might argue this isn't really a posting about a day in the life of an accidental business. However, when you are self employed, own a gazillion rental properties and are slightly under-capitalized this post could very well fit the bill for my theme. I promise.
As for me, I am frantically searching the sky for the storm clouds to pass.
This past week, Marty's company announced layoffs and Marty ended up as the receipent of a pretty pink piece of paper. He has been given a few weeks to find a job within his company before all bets are off.
In his usual Marty Sunshine way, he is handling this as an opportunity. So what if there are rain clouds? That will just make a stunning rainbow when the storm passes! Yep, that's my guy.
One might argue this isn't really a posting about a day in the life of an accidental business. However, when you are self employed, own a gazillion rental properties and are slightly under-capitalized this post could very well fit the bill for my theme. I promise.
As for me, I am frantically searching the sky for the storm clouds to pass.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Just for the Record
I should tell you, I really like what I do. I say this, because two of my six readers this past week told me that what I write convinces them NEVER to own rental properties.
It isn't so bad. Except when there is a lot of bad stuff going on. The bad stuff really stinks. Like this past summer. Just for the record, that REALLY sucked.
Most of the time, it is pretty easy, with an occasional frantic phone call about a gas leak (last week). And, as my tolerance for crummy tenants has reached a new low, I have to say, most of my tenants behave themselves. Thank goodness for that. Thank goodness for Carolsue too.
Most of the time, I just revel in the weirdness and the cultural aspects that come from growing up in a mega-metropolis and working with people from the South. The people and culture is still somewhat of a mystery to me. But, I am not the least bit sorry I have started my accidental company.
It isn't so bad. Except when there is a lot of bad stuff going on. The bad stuff really stinks. Like this past summer. Just for the record, that REALLY sucked.
Most of the time, it is pretty easy, with an occasional frantic phone call about a gas leak (last week). And, as my tolerance for crummy tenants has reached a new low, I have to say, most of my tenants behave themselves. Thank goodness for that. Thank goodness for Carolsue too.
Most of the time, I just revel in the weirdness and the cultural aspects that come from growing up in a mega-metropolis and working with people from the South. The people and culture is still somewhat of a mystery to me. But, I am not the least bit sorry I have started my accidental company.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Seriously, It is Only 100 Feet
One of the things I happen to like about Mrs. 508 is her resolve. Never have I met someone who has had every conceivable bad thing happen to them in such a short amount of time and see them bounce back. I swear to you, this woman has been jinxed six ways from Sunday.
The fact she hasn't been struck by lightening is a minor miracle. Now, let's take a moment to pause while we all knock on wood, say a novena or whatever other good luck you wish to bestow on Mrs. 508 so she isn't struck by lightening. I'm going to feel really bad if I get a call tomorrow telling me she was outside on a golf course during a thunder storm. I'm just saying...
Though I happen to like Mrs. 508 (even though her karma appears to really stink), I am not pleased with the way she has been keeping her home. No, MY home. And, with a small child living there, this is even more unnerving. This past week, I found out Mrs. 508 has been stacking tons of trash bags around her home. When I say tons, I am not being melodramatic. I saw pictures. There were a minimum of 50 bags.
What puzzled me the most, is why Mrs. 508 couldn't walk the extra 100 feet to the curb and dispose of this trash the way all Birmingham residents do. After all, rats don't only live in Leeds. By leaving it on the curb, the sanitation engineers will cheerfully come by once or twice a week and pick it up, thus leaving Mrs. 508 garbage bagless. I find this to be a novel concept. One apparently Mrs. 508 just didn't completely embrace.
I called Mrs. 508 a few times. And, I e-mailed her, telling her she was in violation of her lease and would she kindly remove her trash. All she had to do was pick up the trash bags and move them off the property. How hard is that? However, Mrs. 508 picked this week to not answer her phones or her e-mail.
Finally, I resorted to good old fashioned threats. My tenant shenanigan threshold has plummeted significantly in the past year. With the exception of Mr. Richard's signature required rent game (I swear that man is a flake), I don't tolerate much any more. This past week, I sent Mrs. 508 a letter, explaining there would be an inspection of the property later this month.
I knew this letter would promote action. I have a good relationship with Mrs. 508 and this would get her to call. She did call. But, she hasn't gotten the letter just yet. She finally got my e-mails. Yes, she knows about the garbage bags. Some of it is just donation fodder that needs to be given to the charity of her choice. Some of it needs to be walked to the curb (why is it still there?). Mrs. 508 assures me this will be done this weekend. She also assured me the non-working cars in her yard (not driveway) will also be removed. She further assured me this would not be an ongoing thing.
I explained to Mrs. 508 that I do not have ghetto homes. I do not rent to ghetto folks and I don't want anyone mistaking them for a ghetto family. Now Mrs. 508, act the part so you have a place to live.
I have not cancelled her inspection just yet. If she can send me photos of her new and improved yard with all the trash bags gone, I probably will. I don't wish to make enemies with a tenant--especially one who is paying. But, the first step is for her to take out the trash.
The fact she hasn't been struck by lightening is a minor miracle. Now, let's take a moment to pause while we all knock on wood, say a novena or whatever other good luck you wish to bestow on Mrs. 508 so she isn't struck by lightening. I'm going to feel really bad if I get a call tomorrow telling me she was outside on a golf course during a thunder storm. I'm just saying...
Though I happen to like Mrs. 508 (even though her karma appears to really stink), I am not pleased with the way she has been keeping her home. No, MY home. And, with a small child living there, this is even more unnerving. This past week, I found out Mrs. 508 has been stacking tons of trash bags around her home. When I say tons, I am not being melodramatic. I saw pictures. There were a minimum of 50 bags.
What puzzled me the most, is why Mrs. 508 couldn't walk the extra 100 feet to the curb and dispose of this trash the way all Birmingham residents do. After all, rats don't only live in Leeds. By leaving it on the curb, the sanitation engineers will cheerfully come by once or twice a week and pick it up, thus leaving Mrs. 508 garbage bagless. I find this to be a novel concept. One apparently Mrs. 508 just didn't completely embrace.
I called Mrs. 508 a few times. And, I e-mailed her, telling her she was in violation of her lease and would she kindly remove her trash. All she had to do was pick up the trash bags and move them off the property. How hard is that? However, Mrs. 508 picked this week to not answer her phones or her e-mail.
Finally, I resorted to good old fashioned threats. My tenant shenanigan threshold has plummeted significantly in the past year. With the exception of Mr. Richard's signature required rent game (I swear that man is a flake), I don't tolerate much any more. This past week, I sent Mrs. 508 a letter, explaining there would be an inspection of the property later this month.
I knew this letter would promote action. I have a good relationship with Mrs. 508 and this would get her to call. She did call. But, she hasn't gotten the letter just yet. She finally got my e-mails. Yes, she knows about the garbage bags. Some of it is just donation fodder that needs to be given to the charity of her choice. Some of it needs to be walked to the curb (why is it still there?). Mrs. 508 assures me this will be done this weekend. She also assured me the non-working cars in her yard (not driveway) will also be removed. She further assured me this would not be an ongoing thing.
I explained to Mrs. 508 that I do not have ghetto homes. I do not rent to ghetto folks and I don't want anyone mistaking them for a ghetto family. Now Mrs. 508, act the part so you have a place to live.
I have not cancelled her inspection just yet. If she can send me photos of her new and improved yard with all the trash bags gone, I probably will. I don't wish to make enemies with a tenant--especially one who is paying. But, the first step is for her to take out the trash.
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