One year ago today: February 21, 2015, another B-17 typo, sure.
Five years ago today: February 21, 2011, she’s 11 feet tall.
Nine years ago today: February 21, 2007, more musical games.
Random years ago today: February 21, 2010, get Cookienator. Now.
MORNING
I finally was in a Steak ‘n Shake. First time, but just you try to find a place open for breakfast in a small town on Sunday. This is why I normally visit countryside settlements only on weekdays. As an early riser, I took the truck keys and drove thirty miles up and down the roadways of Lakeland. It does not have a teeming, bustling downtown. But I found the north end WalMart and the Harbor Freight. Oh, and I confirm the rumors of Steak ‘n Shake’s legendary slow service, including standing at the till waiting to pay your bill.
Let’s get to the prize of this trip. We know we will be disillusioned by lying, thieving real estate agents. But we always stumble across items we never expected. Such was what I call the “tree house”. Advertised at around half-price in a quiet residential area, there are pictures showing it as quite a gem. Until you get there. I’m about to tell you about precisely the type of bastards you meet in the real estate business. They seem to feel they can omit material facts and it becomes your task to discover what is wrong with a property at your own expense. What a disgusting manner of thinking, indeed.
When you walk around to the west side of the house, there is major damage to the roof of the structure. JZ said it was fire damage, but I saw no evidence of fire. The place was uninhabited, indicating the former owners walked away from the place rather than repair that roof. Or maybe the place was condemned, or they were ousted, or some ordinance prevented the repair. Either way, of the 18 different real estate listing sites on-line, not one of them mentions this serious structural damage.
Nor did it appear to be lightning or hurricane damage, if only because there had been no hurricanes in the area in over ten years. I walked around the property in ever widening circles until I noticed in the neighbor’s yard a patch of disturbed soil that someone had tried to rake over. But it was some 25 feet away and that is when I noticed, looking from this angle, that monstrous oak tree behind the house.
I called JZ over, he’s the groundskeeper and he paced out there had been similar tree. And it had been in the path of the prevailing wind in this area. If you look close, it is the eaves that have been smashed off the building. The tree fell down—and nobody said a word. The only way to find this out was the way we did. Making a 530 mile round trip to see it for yourself. Something is seriously sick with the entire real estate industry. By law, they supposed to represent both parties. You don’t do so by hoping some sucker doesn’t spot unmentioned flaws.
Nonetheless, the damage is not that bad. So there has to be some other reason preventing a local contractor from buying it and doubling his money with a rafter repair. But nobody has even bothered to throw a hurricane tarp over the damage. I mentioned it is an excellent family neighborhood and it would seem such a simple repair would be leaped upon. But I stopped some kids walking past and asked them how long the place had been empty. They said around a year.
Trumpet valve.
NOON
Aha, it took all morning, but lookie what I found. Going back over former satellite photos, here is one that shows a tree that was not there when I stood on this ground 36 hours ago. The yellow arrow points to the tree nobody wants to talk about. Notice, the other tree to the right is so huge, you cannot even see the house. That was one huge tree, but it was not the guilty party. In fact, that tree probably adds $20 to that house.
Now, I don’t understand but that reads to me like the seller is not allowed to fix the property and sell it. Why that would be is beyond me and it all smells bad. Yet outfits like homesnap.com, ziprealty.com homes.com, realestatebook.com continue to list the place without any mention of the damage or fines, and even the normally reliable realtor.com continues to insist that “properties like this” sell for $109,000.
This is such a blatant rip-off that I’m tempted to publish a small separate blog of the properties I’ve looked at, detailing everything I found wrong. I understand that a low price already reflects something wrong. But that should entail selling to someone who can deal with the problem, not setting a trap for the unwary. In most other trades, knowingly selling a defective product at least eventually becomes a criminal activity.
Meanwhile, it is probably safe to assume that amongst the 1,900 people who have viewed this property on Trulia that would include all the local contractors and handymen of any ability to tackle such a job. What’s more, the city is being pretty mean about things and the property that the tree grew on (next door) was rapidly listed for sale itself. It just gets curiouser and curiouser.
I can just see the action. The first guy sues the other guy saying your tree fell on my house. The other guy says he didn’t plant the tree and it was an Act of God, etc. And neither had insurance for such a contingency.
NIGHT
Let’s make sure nobody concludes that these excursions are smoothly run operations that proceed according to plan. It is more like Mutt & Jeff getting lost the church picnic, you know, where the only directions anyone will give you is the one place you don't want to go just now. JZ and I are opposites on most counts, with often completely conflicting priorities. He considers me financially fearless but he has never seen me spend 3 hours per day researching properties for months on end. When I get on the computer, he gets over to the carnival across the way.
He’s caught on to my method of asking around the neighborhood, but then, few people won’t stop and top to a man wearing a tie and looking to buy. Everybody wants good neighbors who don’t negatively impact property values. I’ve decided to low-ball a couple of the places, with your full understanding that this manner of doing business means we meet mostly the slimy underworld of the real estate set. And that’s in a field of players that already know they are going to Hell.
Upon arriving home, I see people have been dropping by. And leaving me packages of goodies. Let’s see what is in package number one. An iHome player, which I don’t need, but okay. Ah, some kind of spiffy case for SD cards. Somebody’s been reading the blog. Two digital cameras, now they show up. Neat, a set of US army measuring spoons, WWII issue. Pardon me, two sets. Like used when I was in scout camp, making biscuits. And, very funny, a potato peeler, but folks, I use a knife. And the tie is a clip-on.
[Author's note: in the days when I was in scouts, all army recipes used four standard measuring spoons. Quarter, half, teaspoon, tablespoon. If those didn't work, don't cook it.]
Last Laugh
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