...Match

I couldn't pay someone to make this stuff up? Isn't Caustic priceless?

What can you say to such nonsense? Sniping back in forth in a very public forum would never make poor Caustic consider anyone other than, well---Caustic.

I took it upon my self to continue to maintain decorum and attempt to have as clean of a disagreement as possible

It was best to attempt to end it with this:

My condo association? Passive-aggressive? Threatened? Caustic, I'm flattered. As you stated, problem solved. Now let's move on.

Oh no, she could not be one upped and let me have the last word. Even though that last word was sent to her and not to the beleaguered group at large.

She so considerately took my private post and e-mailed it to the board.

Big whoop.

I usually assume that most of what I write in e-mail is going to be sent to someone else or that someone other than it's addressee will see it at some point. That little stunt didn't both me in the least.

In fact I wrote and told Caustic as much:

By all means, send the e-mail to whomever you'd like. I stand behind my words. If you'd like to make our conversation public, be my guest.

All I can do is shake my head.

I'll post another follow up to Caustic's blog fodder tomorrow. I mean, cripes---I haven't even told you about my weekend yet.

Soap opera indeed.

Game, Set...

After the public & private e-mails landed in Caustic's court with a resounding "thud," I received this volley from the baseline:

I am having a wonderful morning, don't act like i'm stupid and quit playing that oh, i didn't know i was being passive aggressive crap with me. You know exactly what you're doing and I do too. I found your email to be wholly inappropriate and shouldn't have to 'answer for the record' to you, which is why i replied to ALL.

For the record, to ALL: Housekeepers cleaned my home and left the bags, XXXX was supposed to take them to the dumpster, obviously WE forgot. And i claim full responsibility for the mistake. I don't need to be threatened by a fine, if it is appropriate, I'm ok with that. Shit happens it was a mistake and will be taken care of today. Had SOMEONE who complained asked or informed me directly I would've been able to take care of it sooner and no one would've had to look at my trash, i honestly was completely unaware it was still out there. I would not of been angry, i would of been thankful that someone was being HELPFUL and alerted me, rather than undermining and conniving which that email and your 'investigation' were.

If you were really trying to be helpful XXXX, you would of knocked during your 'investigation' and asked if I was aware, left a note, or called my cellular to inquire which you do about everything else when you are genuinely trying to accomplish something and that is OK and always has been, and yes I want ALL to hear that. That's what neighbors do. Just like i'd call XXXX if i noticed her bike cover flew off, or I'd call XXXX if i saw someone prowling around his car. We are neighbors, not the policy police and you might keep that in mind the next time you investigate.

Board. If a fine is in line. Save your paper and your time and i will add it to my next payment. Problem solved, an error occurred, my trash is on my porch, i should not receive special treatment, but what i don't need is an email from a board member on behalf of a neighbor asking me something 'for the record'.

I also was not aware that i lived in the XXXX Condominium Association and could be threatened with a fine from her directly, any responses from the board?
So, since I was being 'disrespectful' to XXXX, go ahead board, FINE ME...that is what you said...right?

"Based on your response below, respect seems to be in short supply. Should we assume that an additional $25.00 for the trash fine will be included on your next assessment payment?"

How about this, why don't you fine me an additional $25.00 because you're certainly not going to like this reply either.

XXXX, I am very happy with the work you have done for the building and association but their is a certain line that you have crossed before and you have crossed with me...again and i am finally letting you know i don't appreciate it and am not afraid of you and will stand up for myself. I would appreciate it not occurring again.

And XXXX I have nothing personal or private to discuss with you. This is a non-issue. If you have serious business, fine, include EVERYONE on it. But don't bother me with this type of BS again.

Ever.

Public and Private

Whooo doggies!

My trash query sure raised Caustic's hackles.

Naturally I replied---one went to the association board that had been cc'd on the response. The other went to Caustic directly:

The Public E-mail:

XXXX,

It seems like you have had a rough start to your morning. To spare everyone else my reply to your comments and concerns below, I will e-mail you about this privately.

I could be wrong but I thought I e-mailed you---and only you---about this Saturday. I chose not to inform or include everyone else as I believed you at least deserved the respect to answer a question about a rule violation without the whole association being copied in.

Then of course I'm not at home and don't have my original e-mail in front on me so if I didn't give you that common courtesy, I apologize.

Based on your response below, respect seems to be in short supply.

Should we assume that an additional $25.00 for the trash fine will be included on your next assessment payment?


The Private E-mail:

Your response is consistent with the level of disregard and selfishness that permeates your behavior towards your neighbors.

I shouldn't be surprised by this latest in a long line of childish outbursts, caustic behavior and fit throwing. You look and sound ridiculous. Is it a wonder that the "neighbor in question" wouldn't want to ask you about your trash? I can only assume that they would not want to be the target of your ire.

I personally don't care as I could give a flying fig about your tantrums whether they're in person, at a monthly meeting or via e-mail.

Everyone else gets called on their infractions, so join the club. The fact that you made a private query a public issue continues to speak volumes about your "me first" attitude. The only person you succeed in making look foolish was yourself. The fact that you did it in print (again) only bolsters your already stellar reputation.

Personally speaking, you need to reside in a single family home. You are obviously not cut out for association living. It is my fervent wish that you are successful in selling your unit so you can finally move on and continue with your life. That way you can make only your (future) spouse and immediate neighbor's lives more difficult instead of my own.

I find it ironic that the person who wouldn't even say something to her own neighbor's about the volume of their children playing in the back courtyard now wants to stand on protocol about neighbor's confronting each other.

My suggestion is this: Shut up & pay up.

...If you'll excuse my French.

Iverson

In the previous entry I posted a question I posed to Caustic about the trash that was sitting on her back porch.

Boy oh boy did I receive an answer:

OK. Ms. Trash police.

1. I don't appreciate the tone of this email.

I had cleaning people at my house, XXXX was supposed to take the trash to the dumpster. I haven't been on my back porch and had no idea the bags were there, shit happens.

I do "abide" by the rules, as you can see from my reply it was a mistake and will be taken care of immediately.

So for the record---why do I have trash outside my door on the back
porch after the posting of the signs about not leaving it in common
areas?

Because I was on an absolute mission to piss off all the other residents of the XXXX condominium and make it a point to blow off rules and regulations on a regular basis in order to inconvenience and annoy my neighbors.

And to whomever brought this to your attention. Thank you. But they can leave the 'cattiness' out next time. I don't need this. We are all adults and should be able to act accoringly.

You all know that i had hip surgery and 1...can barely get up and down steps on my own pain free and can't cart my trash down the steps and am reliant on others for assistance.

So little miss or mr. bitchy needs to get off my back. All someone had to do when you were doing your 'investigating' is knocked and asked.

So. I am SOOOOO sorry for making a mistake...if any of you know what that is. Or are you XXX, and the unnamed neighbor too perfect to have those occur in your life.

Get off my ass. I don't need this shit, especially not now. Excuse my french and leave me the hell alone.

I Asked A Simple Question...

I really try not to antagonize my neighbors.

It's a no win situation when you piss off the people that live around you. Obviously it's inevitable that there will be a conflict but for the most part friendship---or at the very least tolerance and common courtesy usually rule the day.

Yet Caustic pushes me to the very limits of the manners that my mother worked so hard to instill in my some times hard head.

Ladies and Gentlemen I asked a simple question via e-mail. The text of that e-mail is below:

It was brought to my attention that you have trash on your porch.
When I went to investigate, you had two bags outside your door at
approximately 8:30 AM this morning (Friday) and it was still there at
9:30 PM.

The individual who brought this to my attention made a point of asking
why should the rest of the association abide by a well publicized rule
when a board member isn't. I couldn't give them an answer.
So for the record---why do you have trash outside your door on the back
porch after the posting of the signs about not leaving it in common
areas?

Futility

Hope springs anew for us suckers...er, ah, I mean Cubs fans. Happy Opening Day everybody!

Activity

Some wise old person used to say, "A hard head makes a soft ass."

Their obvious meaning was that stubbornness and stupidity will continue to bring trouble your way; hence a "soft ass" from it getting kicked so many times.

Apparently one of the mortgage company owners doesn’t believe that we mean what we say.

They'll be believers when they receive notice of the lien our lawyer is placing on their property.

Then of course they're shooting themselves in the foot by not paying in a timely fashion. Not only are they getting socked with late, legal and filing fees but they contribute to the assessment delinquency rate.

Any knowledgeable potential buyer will be asking about the assessment delinquency rate as well as other business based "hard questions."

We tried being cordial yet firm. Now the time for talking is done.

Breaking The Fast

I received a phone call from my Alderman's Chief of Staff asking if I am free on Saturday to have breakfast with the Mayor.

It will be a small thing with about 25 people in attendance so it ought to be interesting.

Apparently the mayor wants to know what's going on the in the city and has a sit down in each of Chicago's 50 wards about once or twice a year with us "normal" folk.

I guess my alderman thought of me as I talk to her staff as much as I talk to my sister.

Note: I talk to my sister at least four to five times a day. Seriously.

I joked to my Alderman's Chief of Staff that I was going to walk in late adorned in a pink and teal suit with a monster easter hat and a toothpick hanging out of my mouth slap the Mayor on the back and say, "How you Doing?"

I should think bigger and bolder.

Perhaps I should start cracking Nasty Canasta jokes to see how down the Mayor is with his classic cartoons.

Better yet, I'm gonna Paul Wall up the joint.

While the possibilities to make an ass out of myself are endless, perhaps I should stick with the under the radar route.

I don't think anyone wants the Mayor to remember them in a bad way.

Brightest Bulb

After the little storm trooper incident of a few Fridays ago, the renter in the unit moved out the next day.

Why would I expect her to be responsible enough to leave the lock box on the door instead of packing it away with her belongings?

For those of you who don’t know, a lockbox is kind of a large lock that has a compartment inside to hold keys. It’s used by the realtors to allow showings of properties at any time without the listing agent being present---it allows more flexibility in the coordination of schedules.

When I called the tenant yesterday to inquire whether she had fully moved out and the whereabouts of the lockbox and the key, she told me that the lockbox got thrown in a box in the flurry of moving.

She now has to go to storage and dig through her boxes to unearth it and return it to her former residence.

I would imagine that we’d be charged for the loss of the box if it were not returned. Moreover, who wants to be responsible for the key until another lockbox can be placed on the door?

Don’t we all have enough to deal with right now?

Frankly as an association we’ve been very accommodating trying to assist this young woman with this whole process.

After all it’s not her fault she had a shitty landlord.

At some point though, you have to show some forethought and responsibility.

We did extend ourselves to find out the combination and pass it along to her. Giving the lame excuse that you can’t find the lockbox because you packed it away ain’t feeding the bulldog.

Find it.

I sensed her reluctance against digging through all of her stored away boxes when she asked how much a lockbox costs. I guestimated at least a couple of hundred dollars---maybe even more.

The hemming and hawing ensued.

I told her that I would call her on Friday to check her progress. We need everything back by Sunday.

See what happens when you try to be a decent human being and try to help someone.

I’m getting cynical in my old age.

Pay What You Owe

Through the course of this blog I’ve documented my feelings about non-resident owners.

In the scant time I’ve lived in this association we’ve gone through foreclosures, deadbeats and a variety or renters.

Even though I can’t get into specific details, let’s suffice it to say that matters are being handled and old business is being taken care of.

But that leaves us with the current crop of newly minted pain in the ass owners who purchased the foreclosures.

They’re otherwise known as mortgage companies. Their local minions are known as property managers.

So now we’re doing the “pay your assessment” dance with the property managers.

Dig this---we’ve now got one of the mortgage company owned units that now owes over $2,200 in back assessments and late fees.

Trust me, my jaw was on the ground when this little bombshell was dropped.

Seeing that I thought we had a strict 45 day delinquency policy regarding assessments I wasn’t quite sure how the total got to be so sizeable.

The ball got completely dropped on this one.

Naturally, I informed the property manager about this arrearage and forwarded them an e-mail detailing the breakdown. When I called to follow up on when we would be receiving payment, I received a non-committal “I don’t know.”

I wanted to make sure that the person I was talking to and her boss understood that if a check for the full amount isn’t received by April 5th that a lien would be placed on the property.

Not only did she tell me that she understood but proceeded to tell me that “usually these things” get settled at the closing table.

I explained to her that our bills aren’t on Litton’s (the mortgage company owner of the unit) time table. They are quite real and have to be paid in a timely manner by or before their due date.

The only response I received was, “We can only pay what the client authorizes us to pay.”

Whatever, sister.

I promise you good folks this, if our association treasurer doesn’t see a check for the full amount on or before April 5th, this matter will be referred out to our attorney.

Once it’s referred out---it’s a done deal. You’re getting a lien slapped on your place.

And that bad boy ain’t coming off until someone coughs up some cash.

Sheesh...

The clocks sprang forward an hour, a pounding cold rain is ushering in the work week and the White Sox did a little World Series chest pounding yesterday at their home opener.

God, could this day get any more annoying?

Opening Day is 7 Days Away

Hey Roger's Park Reviewers,

Are you in for Bernie's or what? The Cubs home opener is a mere 7 days away. Can't you feel the promise of another baseball season in the air?

Throw me an e-mail.

Mind In The Gutter

I am haunted by the specter of gutters.

Five days a week I think of nothing but gutters. When will they be done? Will they be able to handle the water runoff?

I am sick of gutters.

Unfortunately the situation is ongoing---the latest wrinkle is that the extra slow gutter guys put one of the gutters on incorrectly. It now has to be taken down, correctly installed and the downspout must be placed into the existing drainage hole.

As it stands, the extra slow gutter guys have the downspout draining next to our foundation and into the alley.

We all know what comes next when water drains to close to a foundation that doesn’t have a downward slope.

Can you say wet basement?

Or in our case wetter basement---we need more water down there like a fat kid needs cake.

My apologies to 50 Cent for borrowing his lyric.

The alley isn’t built to handle water runoff and doesn’t have any open drains where the water could flow away from the building. Additionally the alley would literally turn into an ice rink during the winter.

Mmm…water freezing and melting---cement expanding and contracting. It’s just enough to make you anticipate those costly masonry bills.

The thought just makes my eyes cross.

So now we are faced with two choices: Leave the gutter and downspout the way it is or cough up another $600 bucks to get it done the right way.

I may be sitting in a bus shelter drinking tumblers full of vodka before this is all over.

For Whom The Bell Tolls

Apparently the gravy train for my winged friends may be over.

Storm Troopers

Doors were being kicked in last Friday afternoon.

One of the tenants of one of our last foreclosures had yet to move and the new mortgage company owner was not happy with the situation.

We all had an idea that the eviction process was grinding its way through the Cook County Sheriff’s Office.

From the stories that I heard, she had been receiving phone calls from the mortgage company or it’s legal representative since early January.

Unfortunately she is in the Section 8/CHAC program which has procedures for receiving a voucher to move to another apartment.

Did I mention that moving or finding a decent place to live without a Section 8/CHAC voucher is difficult enough? I can only imagine how difficult it would be with a voucher.

An open secret in these parts is that if a potential renter has a Section 8/CHAC voucher and mentions it to a potential landlord; the renter’s subsequent calls and queries will go unanswered. If they choose to, the potential landlord will never be heard from again.

Fair housing law my ass.

Nonetheless, from what I understood, the renter in our association was making provisions to move and was days away from receiving her moving papers.

Despite all of the mortgage company’s blustering, everyone was fairly confident that the Sheriff’s eviction crew would not be able to enter the premises.

Our primary entrances are controlled by a buzzer system. There are three ways to get in---you have the key, are buzzed in or know the code.

Since most people work during the day we thought---no problem.

Boy, were we wrong.

One of my neighbors said she was tricked and let the Sheriffs in. She stated that they claimed to be checking the status of the unit one floor above the targeted unit.

Why she fell for this I’ll never know.

That unit had been vacated before the end of 2005 and had been on the market.

Nonetheless, she buzzed the goon squad in and they proceeded to kick in the doors of the third and second floor units of the address in question. Moreover, the eviction crew doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what they damage. As a result we have doors with sizeable dents and damage from the padlocks that were placed on the door.

Oh no---it’s not enough to kick in the door but these motherfuckers have to do it on the cheap and add padlocks instead of changing out the locks.

Unbelievable.

Naturally, I received a frantic phone call from my neighbor who let the eviction crew on our property. Obviously there was little to be done since they had already gained entry.

A full Sheriff’s crew was ready to take all of the renter’s belongings and place them on the street but a twist of fate intervened.

The name on the eviction order and the name on the mailbox didn’t match.

The eviction had to be aborted due to a misspelled name on a mailbox. Frankly, the renter caught such a big break I don’t think she understood the full implication.

The crew did on the other hand, padlock the unit and put a lockbox on the doorknob.

A few phone calls later (by yours truly of course), the code was discovered and contact was made with the property managers of the new mortgage company owners.

I’m so sick of this foreclosure shit, I could just scream.

The Donnybrook, Part II

With the amount of pissing and moaning everyone did, you would of thought that my neighbor was asking for a pound of flesh instead of what the procedure was for filing an insurance claim.

Those in attendance should have known that this was going to happen as a result of the recent early spring rains.

Because of the deluge, a few of our owners had water damage in their homes.

Far as I was concerned, rightly or wrongly, the water damage had happened as a direct oversight of the board.

It didn’t matter that the sealing of the roofs and the re-attachment of the gutters was caught and scheduled to be rectified immediately. The water had already been streaming through people’s back windows.

You can’t un-ring the bell.

Of course Caustic alluded to the meeting where she wasn’t allowed to file a claim with the association insurance for water and moisture problems in the basement.

Other unit owners cited that that they didn’t file an insurance claim as they had water damage which came through the roof, dripping on top of their refrigerator.

I reminded Caustic that the potential new claim in question was a direct result of the board’s oversight and that it directly affected the habitability of this owner’s home.

We weren’t talking about a damp basement not being the reason why your unit couldn’t sell.

In the case of the damp basement and the leak over the refrigerator, those were developer issues that should have been taken up with and followed through with him. Unfortunately we inherited a great deal when he turned over the board and discouraged unit owner participation.

Perhaps any existing latent problem should now be called a Knight legacy in honor of our esteemed developer Carlton Knight.

Nonetheless, his legacies have left us at odds with one another when we really should continue to focus on how to best recover the money we spent on the porches.

As far as I’m concerned Mr. Knight owes us $81,000 and some change.

As the volume on voices continued rising and the game of ‘I had to deal with it, so should you” continued to be played, my ire was rising ten fold.

Now you don’t have to agree with me, hell you don’t even have to like me.

But you will not sit up in the home where I pay the mortgage and the utilities and have the stones to raise your voice to me.

That is simply asking for me to give you a fucking beat down.

You will respect me inside of my home on the property where I pay crazy property taxes. If not, get the fuck out.

I calmly reminded everyone to lower their voices in my home and to try and speak with a civil tongue.

That last for all about two minutes with yours truly firmly in the fray.

I was appalled by my neighbor’s lack of empathy or willingness about trying to find a solution. It was very “my way or the highway” that night.

I know that a claim has the potential to raise our rates but holy crap, why should the unit owner who asked this question be frozen out because of issues in the past?

I didn’t think it was fair. Moreover, voices again were raised.

I was so pissed that I said “GD.”

I rarely take the Lord’s name in vain so when I do, you know I’m hot.

Since people couldn’t keep a civil tongue, I told everyone to get to steppin’.

Bird Brained

I’m now all about the Monk Parakeet.

While looking online for information, I happened to find a great resource right in my midst---my boss.

My Boy Scout leading, nature loving, math tutoring boss has an intimate knowledge of a wide range of subjects. When I brought up my discovery of the parakeets he told me that those are the same kind of birds that were sold at Woolworths and Kmart during the late 60’s and early 70’s.

Upon recollection, they did resemble the same birds but I mentioned that the ones sold through retailers were much smaller.

He stated that the retail bird’s size was restricted due to their environment---i.e. their cage. The ones in the wild can grow to their maximum size.

I was flooded with Monk Parakeet knowledge and it felt good

I imagine a kid was at Kmart getting slushies and submarine sandwiches and that their puppy dog eyes finally worked on the parents. Netting him or her the cute little birds they wanted so badly.

A week later amid juvenile carelessness those gifts had flown the coop.

Let’s recap---A non native species that hasn’t caused any discernable harm to it’s new ecosystem, shares it’s nest with other native species (squirrels) and has managed to thrive in an environment much harsher than it’s own.

Did I happen to mention how brightly colored and attractive they are?

With my apologies to Destiny’s Child, now that’s what I call a survivor.

Sundays In The Park

Sundays are the only day of the week that I don’t work at some job.

It’s rare “me time.”

I do pretty much anything that strikes my fancy, which can range from actual chores to meandering over the Sunday Trib.

All and all I get to rejuvenate my weary work ridden soul.

Last week I told you of the sights seen as I took the CTA to pick up a few groceries.

This week’s Sunday adventure took me through Woodlawn, north to Hyde Park then west to Washington Park.

I have the luck to live in-between two of Chicago largest parks---Jackson Park on the east and Washington Park on the west.

I can see Jackson Park and golf course from my balcony. Washington Park is a jewel that I don’t get to visit too often.

Since I had plans on visiting friends that lived on the northeastern edge of Washington Park, I decided to take a rare walk instead of taking the bus.

Ever so often you need to take a two and half mile stroll to get the juices pumping.

So off I went and in about a half an hour I was crossing 60th and Cottage Grove about to enter into Washington Park.

It’s easy to forget what a wonderful city I live in but also what jaw dropping, interesting cultural and civic jewels that are within walking distance.

This is what I saw yesterday:

The amazing “Fountains of Time” sculpture whose reflecting pool is finally being renovated

A statute of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing by the Dusable Museum

A community of the chatty and brightly colored Monk Parakeets at the corner of 54th and Cottage Grove

I stood there and watched our feathered South American imports talk amongst themselves and fly between their huge duplexed nests.

I hate to sound like a dork but it was so cool.

Think about it---birds that lived in South America got out in Chicago almost 40 years ago are somehow able to survive and breed in a completely hostile climate.

From what I could tell they have communities within the Monk Parakeet community.

There were groups of nests at 54th & Cottage, then another group at 52nd and Payne.

They are relatively easy to spot with the leaves not on the trees. Look for huge nests---you can’t miss them.

Another interesting fact in that the parakeets can mostly be found in Chicago at Washington and Jackson Parks. They don’t seem to want to branch out en mass too far from the south side.

Perhaps the realtors selling condos should adopt a new slogan: The south side, it’s for the birds.

You can’t fool Mother Nature.

The Donnybrook

Ever so often we have a good old fashioned, finger pointing, sista girl neck swerving shouting match at our monthly association meetings.

Getting a bunch of women of color together with strong and varying opinions is at best a risky proposition.

This meeting proved to be no exception.

I usually can hold the bile down when I have to be in the same room as Caustic. I mean, Christ if we only had to deal with people that we liked, we’d never go to work. I’m an adult; I can deal with a few hours of self absorbed bullshit.

Things went generally well until two topics came up: Raising assessments and the filing a claim with our insurance company.

Personally speaking I can’t even begin to financially absorb a hike in the assessments during this calendar year. It’s difficult enough for me to pay my monthly assessment as well as the special assessment for the back porches. A significant increase---even $50 dollars is significant---would not be welcome.

And I made my feelings known to the assembly.

Our treasurer made a valid point about a budget shortfall that the previous board (of which I was a member) overlooked. While the important issue was that we be able to continue to aggressively pay down our porch loan, we do have to address this shortfall.

The most obvious way is to raise assessments but I countered we shouldn’t be having that much of a shortfall as we now should have every unit in the association paying their monthly assessments.

Then our treasurer dropped the bomb----three of our four foreclosed upon units hadn’t been paying for quite a few months.

With the subtle finger pointing at the old board for the shortfall and just now finding out about the foreclosed upon units not paying; I started to get pissed off.

I could feel my temper starting to get the better of me.

Being on a condo association board is a great deal of work. Those of you who have been reading this blog from the beginning know how much time I put into the management of our home.

And I’m just a member---I don’t have any “official” duties.

Nonetheless if you take on the responsibility of a board member position then get ready to live it until you either resign or your term is up.

It’s a business, shit can’t wait until you’re ready to crack open the work and get to it---things must be taken care of in a timely manner.

That kind of inattentiveness is what got us in our screwed up situation in the first place.

I happen to do a majority of my work Monday through Friday, during normal business hours. Since that’s when most of the world works, that’s when I stand my best chance of reaching people and getting things done.

If I have to sacrifice a lunch hour, then so be it.

There was no excuse that we as an association was just now finding out those units weren’t paying their assessments.

You could have poached an egg of my forehead I was so pissed.

Yelling and carrying on about the timeliness of this announcement wasn’t going to solve the problem so I calmed myself down and went over what needed to be done to bring those outstanding monies into our coffers.

All was well until another one of my neighbors asked about filing a claim with our insurance company.

Then the room went up for grabs.

Erin Go Black

I don’t know if it was because of the St. Patrick’s Day spirit or the fact that I hadn’t consumed any spirits.

I don’t know if I had just reached my saturation point with the litter.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m premenstrual.

I do know that I simply couldn’t take one more day of looking at a still life of pre-urban renewal so I grabbed a bag and began picking up trash.

How could I not? You all saw the pictures of the "Pretty" post.

Folks, picking up empty bottles is one thing. I live in a neighborhood that is renewing itself after decades of decay and neglect. Trust me, I ain’t living la vida loca in some posh neighborhood. I knew when I moved down here what I’d be in for.

As long as I could walk to public transportation unmolested and no one broke into the crib, the rest of the stylish neighborhood accessories like stores, laundromats, and dry cleaners would eventually follow.

Sidebar: You may consider stores, laudromats and dry cleaners as staples but trust me, down where I live they’re accessories. I don’t live within a mile of any of the above businesses.

Nonetheless, I try to do my part for civic pride and the overall aesthetic of the ‘hood by picking up when the trash gets ridiculous. The following is a partial list of what I picked up this last time:

Glass bottles (beer, liquor)
Political signs
Assorted paper
Motor oil containers
Women’s underwear
Fast Food Bags
A woman’s ruffled skirt
Aluminum cans
Hair extensions
Braiding hair

I filled up 4 ½ 30 gallon bags in a little less than an hour and a half. Frankly I consider my impromptu clean and green a success as I didn’t pick up and crack pipes or used condoms.

Trust me, I wish I was making that up.

Apparently that crowd is starting to get the message that those activities aren’t welcome in this little piece of Woodlawn anymore.

Anyone with cash can move into Lincoln Park, The Gold Coast or the new Trump Tower---there’s no trick to that. If you gentle readers don’t mind me saying so, it takes vision and commitment to move to Woodlawn.

I tend not to follow trends---I’d rather set them.

Decadence

The pleasure of Oliver Martinez’s company for a weekend
Several Magnums of Veuve Clicquot
The Mandarin Oriental Hotel in New York City
A good pedicure

And my new favorite…

Reese Peanut Butter Cups with Caramel

Is it legal to make something this good?

Gutter Ball

I never knew it took so long to seal roofs and re-attach gutters.

These guys have been at it since last Thursday and the only progress I can see is the roof line has been trimmed back on all three buildings and the board has been attached right under the roof line on one building.

Perhaps because we're so eager to be 95% done with the project (we still have a lighting system to reattach) that it seems that progress is crawling at a snail's pace.

I just hope that all of this work can be done prior to the next deluge from the heavens.

Sights Seen

Sunday when I was out getting a few groceries I a few things that caught my eye:

Two guys decked out in the latest urban gear replete with wool stocking caps and menacing looks, in a low rider car bumping tunes with a baby seat in the back and a gay pride rainbow flag on the bumper.

Now that’s diversity.

A young man on the bus wiping his red swollen face---I later found out that he had just been maced by a family friend seemingly for no reason.

He said he was going to cut her head off. Personally I don’t think he literally meant it. If I were her, I’d watch my step.

Young, tall, freshly scrubbed, milk fed Mormons giving witness about their faith.

Now either we’ve come up as a neighborhood to have Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses come through or we’ve fallen as I only thought Mormons spent their mission year in ravaged third world hell holes.

Either way you can’t beat a pair of stary-eyed optimists walking the streets of the south side talking about God.

The irony is that there is a seemingly a church on every corner so apparently there isn’t a lack of faith in these parts.

I wonder if the Jehovah’s Witnesses will be pissed off that the Mormons are edging in on their turf.

Jets and Sharks indeed.

Pretty

This is what I have to look at across the street until the sidewalks and sod get replaced.

...He Did It Again

The fact that Saphire (sic) Place is about to get permanently stuck with my developer’s fines from the city must be a mere oversight.

Frankly since they are doing business at Three CD Mngmnt it very well may be his own company.

In my association's situation, the story is quite different.

When both my developer and I were in the Department of Consumer Service's hearing a few months ago, he blamed an errant employee for the fact that he never knew about the registered mail that was being sent to his address.

Or was it that he had a family emergency?

Oh yeah, it was both.

You see his business address was also our "official address" with the State of Illinois and Cook County as my developer was our registered agent. When mail was being sent to our association it went to our developer first.

Frankly, I don’t care what the situation was that prevented him from addressing his responsibilities; I’m just concerned that we as an association have to bear the brunt of his irresponsible business practices.

Did I happen to mention that the only way we found out about this issue is that I happened to enter our name into the Clerk of the Circuit Court of Cook County's website and there we were.

Nice, huh?

The important issue is that a behavior pattern is emerging.

He’s either so busy, has the worst employees or never reads his mail as he doesn’t know when he has an administrative hearing with the city.

Moreover, the crux of the issue is that buildings that his property management company oversees aren’t being properly maintained. There are people living in dangerous and substandard conditions with little immediate recourse to change their situation.

And the cherry on this sundae of a story is that others have to clean up the mess that my thoughtful gem of a developer made.

He’s known about this issue with our association since last fall and has made feeble attempts at best to remedy the situation.

When he was in the administrative hearing, he stated that his relationship with the condo board had become adversarial.

If by adversarial he meant that we as an association didn’t take any of his utterances at face value and that we decided to stand up for ourselves, then yeah---for him I guess it did become adversarial.

Self empowerment is a motherfucker.

Nonetheless, I’m sure these two situations are completely isolated and a definite misunderstanding. My developer will pay his fines to the city or cut a check on behalf of the third party defendants to clear those debts just like that *snapping fingers*.

Perhaps he’s already cleared a majority of his debts with the city as he alluded to in the administrative hearing.

Then of course, I am talking about a man who stopped payment on escrow funds that rightfully belonged to the association and made a very nice woman go through some very complicated processes.

Is it possible that the city is going to give (or has given) someone like that a developer’s license?

Ooops...

It looks like the Saphire (sic) Place Development LLC---doing business as Three CD Mngmnt---will be the latest recipient to bear the brunt of my developer not settling his judgments with the city.

A Department of Administrative Hearings violation dated 3/16/04 found my developer liable for 1 count of violating a smoke detector municipal code and 2 counts of not providing adequate heat in a dwelling unit(s) from September 15th to June 1st.

The fine levied was $1,025.00

My developer is listed as the registered agent for Saphire.

Per the paperwork, I it seems that the City of Chicago thinks that registered agent equals = employee.

Who knows, he very well may be.

Nonetheless, what the court documents show is that Saphire Place Development will soon be legally saddled with the debt of my developer.

Just like we are.

As of last week, I couldn't find any supporting evidence that this issue has been cleared up. As a matter of fact, there was a filing as recent as 9/22/05 for an affidavit for wage deduction order issued to Saphire Place.

If they don't respond in a certain amount of time, they are toast.

By the way, the initial $1,025.00 debt has now increased to $1,367.56 (as of 9/22/05)

It's all a matter of public record---take a look.

You'll only get an online snapshot. If you want to see all of the paperwork, go downtown to the Cook County Clerk of the Circuit Court's office in the Daley Building and pull it like I did.

A very compelling story, indeed.

Deluge

Who knew not having gutters would be such a pain in the ass?

With our recent spate of snow melts and early spring rains, our gutterless association is taking a drubbing.

While some of us aren’t affected by the recent soggy weather, some of my other neighbors are being soaked to the bone.

Why? Since there are no gutters to catch the run off, water is streaming down the building and in some cases through my neighbor’s back windows and into their units.

Obviously we need to seal the roof from where the porch roof was taken away and reattach the gutters. All of the remedies have been set in motion to make this happen as quickly as possible.

The other important point that this brings to the forefront is the poor quality of workmanship performed on our building during the “rehabilitation.”

There should be no reason for water to come pouring into and around a window frame if the façade of the building and the window was installed properly. Perhaps it may also be a tuck pointing issue.

All I know is that you should not be greeted with buckets of water pouring into your home at 1:00 in the morning.

My Alderman Can Kick Your Alderman's Ass

This is why my alder(wo)man kicks so much ass.

Click on this link and enter in the name Leslie Hairston. Then click on the "Luring Retailers" story

Perhaps in a few years I'll be able to do most of my shopping within a two mile radius of my home

Dare to dream.

Finished

Finally.

The first sale of our foreclosed upon units finally closed on Friday. Thank God!

One down, three more to go.

Who's In?

Well I’ve apparently made some new blogging friends up on the north side.

Their super awesome blog seems to be the definitive source for all things Roger’s Park. It seems to be a good mix of commentary, information, activism and good old fashion ass kicking.

Don’t be put off friends; it’s what you have to do in Chicago. This city ain’t for bitches. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Nonetheless, a few friendly comments back and forth brings us on the verge of producing a north side/south side social.

Hell I’ll even give ‘em the benefit of the doubt and kick the party off near their digs.

While we’re at it, let’s incorporate baseball.

Now mark this down on your calendars and make sure you either take the day off of work or lay the groundwork so you can call in sick.

Friday, April 7th. Opening day for the Cubs. Bernie’s back bar.

I don’t have a ticket to the game so we’ll be able to wait until most of the boozers go over to the stadium so we can belly up.

Who’s in?

Rounding Third

We’re $3,300 to the good.

At least $3,300 to the good as far as the porches are concerned.

The third porch is up and relatively speaking only nominal work needs to be completed. But if you’re an avid reader of this blog, you realize that not only is it all in the details but those details, or rather the lack of management of those details have come back to bite us in the ass in the past.

While this time was shaping up to mimic the our recently history, we finally broke with tradition.

As the final preparations were being made for cutting the final check to the Porch People for constructing our porches, a thought popped into my little head---review the contract. Make sure we’re getting what we’re paying for.

Sure enough, there was a big inconsistency.

Per the contract we’re being charged a set amount for twenty-two footings of a certain construction. I only counted that sixteen of those footings were constructed per the contract.

Six of the footings were not constructed per the contract and thus I didn’t understand why we were being charged the full amount.

I made sure that our project manager knew about my concerns.

Less than three hours later, we had a $3,300 credit.

Of course I was reassured that despite the six footings not being per the contract, they were still code compliant and structurally sound.

You know I’m going to try and get that in writing don’t you?

Protest

I wonder if the geese will be amongst the estimated 25,000 marchers for the protest against H.R. 4437 this afternoon?

Federal plaza is gonna be a mess. I have to find another way home from work this evening.

Still Looking For Those Righteous

Well I found the evil.

Every time I think we have it tough, I find someone who has it worse.

I've previously stated that I wouldn't wish this on anyone but it's somewhat comforting to know we're not alone in the crappy developer department.

Click on the link below to be redirected to the story.

Granville Condo Nightmare Not Over

Factoid #1

Did you know that in the Illinois Secretary of State Corporation & LLC database, you cannot cross reference the filings by agent name? Only by registered name, key word and file number?

"So what?" You ask.

Well my friends if someone wanted to start more than one corporation or LLC in the State of Illinois, they could do so and no one would be the wiser.

"And?" You sigh.

Patience, people---patience. All will be revealed in short order.

A Few Righteous Amid the Evil

I'm sure by now everyone knows about the highjinx my developer has pulled.

I've even heard from a few of you about your own developer stories.

Nonetheless, the larger question remains---are there any good reputable condominium developers in the Chicagoland area?

I'm not talking about you shooting a company down because you got bisque paint instead of sand or the end caps weren't put on your marble countertops.

I'm talking about a developer who has always been a joy to deal with from day one until (most) everything was finished.

I know I may be asking for a tall order but I refuse to believe that EVERY condo or real estate developer is a number one asshole.

There must be a good developer that I don't know about. If so, I'd like to know who this person or company may be and then confirm their existence.

Drop me a line at the e-mail address under the "About Me" section on the left hand side of the page.

Good developers are like unicorns; you always hear about them but somehow just seem to miss seeing them to actually believe that they walk the earth.

If this company or person exists and I can fully vet them, I may add a link for a limited time to any current offerings they may have.

After all if you want to avoid my own private Idaho, you'd do best to stick with a reputable developer when purchasing your home.

So send 'em if you got 'em!

Foreclosure Follies

When it rains it pours.

Recently, I wrote that we as an association are out of the foreclosure business. While that statement on its face is true, that still doesn’t mean that we’re still not dealing with the aftermath of the foreclosures.

It’s a complex soup my friends, one that I hope none of you have to go through---ever.

So here’s the latest.

A tenant who resides in one of the foreclosed upon units is being harassed by the new owners to move immediately.

Quite frankly I think they’re acting like supreme assholes.

Another new owner hasn’t received all of the paperwork concerning the property so they’re dragging their feet on securing the unit and paying assessments.

Here’s my favorite quote, “Send us the paperwork for the assessments and we’ll make sure it gets routed to the correct department.”

That really means, screw you---throw a lien on us if you want to see any money.

Oh, and by the way, all of the new owners of the foreclosed upon units are the very mortgage companies that the deadbeats stopped paying.

So we have the privileged as an association to be dealing with four separate financial institutions and their bureaucracies.

Did I mention that I have two jobs? Well this is my third.

And I hope you’re not under the impression that the mortgage companies are paying us because they’re such stand up, civic minded individuals.

They’re paying us because they’re legally bound to and more importantly because I personally tracked each foreclosure and located the contact person or property manager for each mortgage company.

Friends, that is no small feat.

This will be the first year that as an association all 18 units will be paying their assessments.

It’s a proud but poignant milestone.

Almost four friggin years of missed assessments from the deadbeat owners? I can’t believe we didn’t become insolvent.

Frankly it has to be through the grace of God. You know he protects babies and fools as the old folks say.

Oh yeah---we also have a pending closing on one of the foreclosed units. Our first of what I’d like to term as the “fire sale.”

It’s not only important for us to collect assessments from the current owners of the foreclosed units but it’s so important for our property value to get these units sold so our values will continue to rise.

I know property value is a dirty word. No one likes to make it about money but less face facts, at the end of the day the average Joe’s most valuable asset is his home.

We’re no exception.

When you live an emerging neighborhood that has a pattern of mortgage fraud AND four foreclosures, you’re thrilled when you get nibble on the real estate tip.

It appears that it’s (almost) one down and three to go.

Let’s hope that the other three fly off the market this spring/summer.

I’ve already pleaded for you all to be my new neighbor. I don’t know what more you want me to say?

We’re getting new sidewalks and a parkway across the street. It’s gonna make the neighborhood look even prettier---honest to Pete.

As long as you promise to be a resident owner, have basic social skills, a job and pay your bills I wouldn’t care if you had a third eye in the middle of your head.

Hell, Republicans are even welcome.

But let’s keep the wild parties to nil, okay?

Them Jenkins Boys

I have several names for rock heads that generally---well, act like rock heads.

My nickname for them is “the Jenkins boys” or “your cousins”.

It’s about the safest way to refer to a complete dumb ass around other people without tipping your hand to the true identity of who you’re talking about.

In the event you do actually have someone with the surname of Jenkins within earshot you can easily switch over to “your cousins.”

Plus I think they are delicious metaphors.

For example: "The Jenkins Boys acted like asses again and got tossed out of the bar." Or “Didn’t I see your cousins' selling laptops in the parking lot of Home Depot?”

As I’m sure you can imagine there are many Jenkins and sets of cousins roaming in and out of my life.

God knows there are always fuck ups everywhere you go.

I think the great thing about this metaphor is that Jenkins/cousin’s behavior can pretty much fit everyone. History has proven no one nationality, race, gender or social class has a lock on being a complete idiot.

Some are in business suits, some are related to you, some you go to school with and in my particular case some of these fuck ups throw trash out of their car onto the parkway.

Then of course when I first moved to the neighborhood, I used to pick of things a bit more disturbing than empty beer and liquor bottles. So at this point the bottles are an improvement.

Apparently It's Not That Hard

You have to realize how great of a country we live in when the Three 6 Mafia can win an Oscar for best original song.

While they were singing---excuse me---rapping on how "It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp" apparently the game has changed. Perhaps it's not so hard once you've won an Academy Award.

Go figure.

Quotable

"How do you know where the line is if you don't cross it?"

--Dave Chappelle on Inside the Actors Studio

Done and Done, London Edition

My friend Abby and her boyfriend Pete were just the perfect hosts.

They gave suggestions without being tour Nazi’s and allowed “me time” while they ground out a living during working hours.

Maps and specific directions were left, day passes bought.

Abigail---that’s the name everyone other than me refers to her by---was even kind enough to prepare a fabulous basket for my room chock full of goodies. Let me tell you that the bottled water came in particularly handy when I had a bad case of dry mouth one night.

All in all a collective hoot and a holler.

But I can’t end my tales of London without giving a snippet of Abby’s beloved, Peter.

I had the pleasure to meet Peter about two years ago when he first came over with Abby. He’s quite everything you’d imagine a Brit to be except taller and more striking. I have to admit, the Brits I’d seen in person up to that point weren’t very physically impressive.

Wan and slightly malnourished may have been the look those kids were going for.

Then of course “heroin chic” might have been all the rage at that time.

Personally, I wanted to feed those bastards a meal and give them a blood transfusion.

Thank god Peter put all of those misconceptions to rest.

During my visit to London, Peter and I had a give and take about current goings on, American foreign policy and how to drink proper ale.

He is the one who branded me a heathen for liking all of my beer cold.

While I’m sure it’s easy to bait most people in a heated discussion, Peter simply didn’t know me well enough to get me on my soap box.

The ensuing conversations were nothing but agreement after agreement. Lots and lots of head nodding in the affirmative.

When we did disagree about something i.e. banning organized religion how to drink a beer and de-clawing cats I just looked at him and gave him my opinion.

There was no backing down on either side but then of course there wasn’t a knock down drag out either.

I’m so used to having people in my life whose opinions and choices I don’t agree with, it doesn’t even faze me anymore.

Unfortunately respecting the right to dissent in these trouble times usually reads as disloyal.

Whether your dissent is in the political, religious or our constitutional spectrum if you don’t tow the party line then you’re not a true believer.

I mean I’m not going to go up and nail 95 issues on the church door but I think we can all show basic respect when opinion collides.

Peter was no different. Plus Abby wouldn’t let us “discuss” anything controversial at length.

That Abby, always trying to put out a fire before it starts.

Then of course I never argue with people when I know I’m right. It simply leads to wrinkles.

I will say this about Mr. Pete---I suspect that there’s a bit of a temper under there. I just haven’t seen it off the leash yet.

As I stated previously he’s a thinking Brit through and through. Tall, tweedy and terrific.

Anyone who breaks out Port after a night of drinking truly has much more to offer than they’re letting on.

Nonetheless I feel that kid would throw some R’s and L’s on you if you pissed him off.

The barely perceptible ghetto side of his personality may come out if you fall on the wrong side of his temper.

Due to this (and plus it just sounds so fly), I’ve re-christened him Petey Pablo.

Plus the initial irony is just too delicious.

A Brit and a southern rapper? Honestly who could (or would) put it together?

Both Abby and Peter are a hoot. I can’t wait til they come back my way.

Across The Street

I received this e-mail today regarding the plans for the parkway across the street:

Dear Woody,

Just got some more information regarding the project on the south end of our
campus near your condo complex. Here's the latest:

1. When/if it snows the sidewalk (1500 block of East XXXX Street) will be
cleaned off by XXXX staff.

2. During the warmer months, the grass will be mowed and kept clean by our lawn
service.

3. XXXX got a bid from our cement contractor on replacing the sidewalk
on the 1500 block of XXXX Street and 1400 block of East XXXX Street.

4. XXXX summitted a grant proposal to the Southeast Chicago Commission
during the week of Feb. 21, 2006. This money will be used to offset the cost of
landscaping and new sidewalks.

XXXX has contacted ALderman Hairston's office to see if we can take
advantage of the 50/50 Sidewalk Program. Two letters and two phone calls have
gone unanswered thus far.

We are excited about the possibilities of further enhancing our campus and
helping the neighborhood to improve as well. We certainly understand and
appreciate your concerns and we hope we can work together to keep XXXX Street
looking beautiful. We need your help. We will do our best to mow, plow, and
clean up trash, but we also hope you can help us keep the area clean. If we
work together in this project we will all enjoy the benefits.

Thanks for your on going support and help. We have been a part of this
neighborhood for over 106 years, and we hope to continue a good relationship
with our neighbors. Taking pride and advancing the Woodlawn neighborhood is
important to us all.

Now if that isn't love, I don't know what is.

The Loo

As you kind folks may be able to tell, I’m enthralled with most things having to do with London.

Save for one---their toilets.

It seems that the handle to flush is on the other side of the tank. Now that wouldn’t usually be a problem but when you’re in a public bathroom performing a modified iron cross so your ass doesn’t touch the seat and you’re trying to flush, I can tell you from experience that you may fail miserably.

It’s kind of like a person who puts their toilet paper on under the roll and has suddenly takes up residence with someone who put their tp on over the roll.

The classic under roller vs. over roller conflict.

It’s the same level of dismay when you discover that the handle is on the “wrong side” of the tank.

Ditto that for the “courtesy flush.”

I’m not quite sure how the Brits pull it off but I just gave up and began traveling with a pack of matches.

It’s not worth dislocating my shoulder to spare me a few moments of embarrassment. After all I did say that my shit does stink.

Fowl Ball

There are so many Canadian geese on the playing fields across the street from my home I feel like I'm in a remake of The Birds.

When I left to go to work this morning there had to be at least 300 fowl in the outfield of the baseball diamond.

Then of course, some of these geese and their descendants have been living on the south side longer than I have.

One of the great things about where I live is it’s proximity to Lake Michigan and the inlets and lagoons abutting the Museum of Science and Industry.

Wetlands=water fowl. And as luck would have it, water fowl equal coyotes.

Because of the influx of coyotes from the Cook County forest preserves, the geese, rat and general small animal population has been held down the past few years.

While the coyotes haven’t approached any full grown humans yet, they will take small pets (how do the stray cats thrive around the ‘hood?) and young children.

Despite that fact, I wouldn’t want to be boozed up walking home from the bus stop while being trailed by a pack of those bad boys.

So my web footed, loud honking friends have figured out an almost foolproof way to graze and nest safely during their molting season; they simply make their homes within the confines of a gated area.

If I were a goose, the large gated playing and practicing fields of the school across the street must look like heaven.

The fence line is kept up so it’s highly unlikely that there are any holes where a coyote could sneak onto the fields. The school also went ahead and completed the fence line on the western edge of their property parallel to the train tracks so that everything is gated.

As a result it’s geese as far as the eye can see for two blocks.

In a way it’s kind of intimidating, so many of one type of species suspiciously eying you as you walk down the street.

I had the privilege to see a Canadian goose up close and personal as he (or she) decided to camp out on my front patio table one Saturday morning.

While he (or she) was huge and seemed to very much enjoy the confines of my patio, since I wasn’t getting any rent money, he (or she) had to “get to stepping.”

My winged neighbors should be considered Chicago’s latest immigrant group---after all they are Canadian.

Perhaps I should alert the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services Department.

The P-Word

I just wasn’t searching for Slick Rick during my scant time in London town.

I also learned some of the local customs.

For example, pants aren’t pants---pants are underwear. Trousers are pants. When I kept on referring to what the British know as trousers as my pants, boy were people ever confused.

The looks were priceless.

By the way, I’m a heathen because I like my beer cold.

Cold---not cool. Ale, lager, bitters---it makes me no never mind. Just chill that bad boy down and put it in a frosted mug if you please.

Pissed does not equal mad but drunk.

Giving a backwards “peace” sign is the British equivalent of flipping the bird. Apparently popular American rappers would not do well in this culture.

But the most important thing I learned is what not to call someone of Pakistani descent. For the love of all that’s holy do not ever in your life refer to a Pakistani as a “Paki.”

Holy shit, you would of thought I had just shot the Queen.

As we sat and drank champagne, Abby and I were having our one and only serious discussion about life and things. Naturally the conversation rolled around to the multi cultural institutions that are now so ingrained in British life.

I told her that someone mentioned to me that I would start to wonder where all the white people had gone.

As she giggled, I stated in a low voice that there sure are a lot of Paki’s in London.

That sure killed the conversation---especially when we were literally surrounded by many people of Pakistani origin.

Well apparently my voice wasn’t too low and the P-word is not something that is said to a person of Pakistani background.

As I got the hairy eyeball, Abby explained that the P-word is the equivalent to the N-word.

I was appalled.

I mean who wants to go over to another country and give offense to fellow people of color? Not me, that’s for sure.

It seems that the large group of Pakistani Brits heard Abby’s explanation, sized me up as a clueless American and went back to their respective conversations.

Don’t we have enough people who don’t like Americans already? I’m sure I don’t need to create yet another international incident.

Feather

I received a phone call from a representative of the school across the street while I was away on my trip.

I'm sure you good folks remember my recent musing on how tall fences don't necessarily make good neighbors.

When I returned his call earlier today he told me that the funding and the plans for replacing the sidewalks had all but been finalized.

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

It looks like the hoody hoo will be getting (I think) two new city blocks of sidewalks and landscaping.

Maybe if we’re really good and don’t cheat during lent, they’ll lay actual sod.

So far---so good.

The school is stepping up to the plate after over a year’s worth of raising questions.

I would even go as far to applaud them but this is what they were supposed to be doing all along---taking care of the parkway. In light of that I’ll just give them a polite golf clap.

Naturally, the real test will be getting the Jenkins Boys and their cousins to stop throwing crap on the parkway. The amount of trash on the north side of the street is unbelievable.

It looks like Ol’ Woody will be schlepping down the street with a bag in her hand cleaning up random trash after the work has been done. I figure if a few people supplement the weekly maintenance provided by the school across the street, the trash problem shouldn’t get anything like it is now.

Here’s to hoping.

In Search of Slick Rick

Only I would fly across an ocean to look for a man who immigrated to the United States 27 years ago.

Well I didn’t specifically go there to look for the infamous rapper Slick Rick but it couldn’t hurt to poke my nose around while I was there.

Note: When in the ‘hoods of Richmond and Sheen you will get a lot of funny looks when to ask if anyone knows the whereabouts of Rick.

Imagine my surprise when no one knew who he was. Not so much on rap tip, those saucy southwesterners.

Nonetheless here a partial list of places I asked about Rick when I was on the town:

The American Bar at The Savoy
Portobello Road
Oxo Tower Bar
The Lobby Bar at The One Aldwych Hotel
The Hare and Hounds

No dice, nothing, nadda, nope. No sightings---No Rick.

When I did a little research and found out he actually lives in the Bronx, I pondered all of this over pasta and wine at the Harrod’s Terrace Bar.

Who knew?

I Believe It’s Time For Me To Fly

So off I went to Merry Old England for a few days of well deserved fun and frolic.

Aside from seeing Jodeci on the theatre marquee, one of the first things I noticed when the tube came to the surface was the scruffy neighborhood we were passing through.

I whispered to Abby to ask her if we were in the middle of the projects.

She replied, “There not called projects here but council houses.”

I couldn’t help but thinking that the ‘hood is the ‘hood no matter what the country or the language.

Everything was practically the same, the Jenkins Boys was hanging out on the corner---you know; Rayshawn, Pookie and them---the Jenkins’. Even if you don’t have someone name Jenkins in your neighborhood you still have a Jenkinsesq crew somewhere in the immediate area.

Don’t pretend like you don’t.

Hell, I’ve seen Jenkins’ in Lake Forest. They just happen to be holding lacrosse sticks and wear L.L. Bean.

I know those Jenkins boys when I see them.

Nonetheless, the Jenkins’ were hanging out like wet clothes, graffiti and trash were quite abundant.

The train scooted through a few more neighborhoods with similar characteristics. The only differences were the complexion of the people.

Imagine if you will putting a neighborhood of Boston Southies next to some peeps from the Ida B’s?

Quite frankly I would imagine all hell would break out but there everything seemed normal. Honestly, I wasn't there long enough to find out and quite frankly wouldn’t have wondered through with my bright pink and green luggage to find out the answer.

Now that would have been interesting.

Eventually, the tube took Abby and I to our connecting station (my Jodeci spotting not withstanding) where we caught the bus and eventually arrived at our destination.

The Trifecta

It appears that major construction on all three porches has been completed. Now for those small things like the roofs being sealed and the gutters...

Jodeci

I knew that London was going to be far more interesting than I first thought when I saw Jodeci’s name on a theatre marquee.

Americans go to London to reinvent themselves and return to the states even stronger. Jody Watley and Tina Turner both had major career resurgences that started in Britain so I thought I’d jump on the trend.

I’ve been struggling with my role as owner and board member in our association lately.

Caustic being a pain in the ass as well as a new emerging system of communication between board members has given me pause about my contributions to the association.

For example, at our board only meeting we all agreed that the association would get a post office box for all of our mailings. Since everyone is short on time and I had a day off prior to my trip, I went ahead and rented a mailbox on the association's behalf.

When I sent an e-mail to the rest of the board informing them of my actions, I was told that two of our members had discussed the abandonment of the mailbox idea.

It would have been nice if the issue had been discussed with the rest of the board.

It especially would have been nice so I wouldn’t have spent the money for six months rental on a post office box.

I mean this is such a little thing---you pick your battles right? But the foreshadowing is enormous. I already know what’s coming down the road.

So it was with a weary but optimistic spirit I boarded a plane to see Abby and Peter in London.

Where The Bottles Go To Die

Litter just pisses me off.

You may not live in the hot ‘hood of the moment but you can keep where you live relatively clean.

I know I live in a city and all but holy smokes; does my little block have to look like the place where the cheap malt liquor bottles go to die?

I’m sorry---my frustration is showing and I’m getting ahead of myself.

I live across the street from a large all boys’ Catholic high school and their campus encompasses most of block. Frankly the word pastoral comes to mind when I look over my balcony across the street.

Slightly rolling hills, lush grass, birds and geese strolling inside the school’s fenced in boarders---you would almost think you’re in the suburbs.

Except for one little thing---the mounds of trash that rest on the parkway on the south end of the campus.

The school has every intention of being good neighbors.

They’ve been responsive to my inquiries about the closing of a local street so that they could enlarge their campus.

They’ve responded to my inquiry about the height of the grass & weeds on the parkway this summer.

After all when the weeds are up to my hips and I’m 5’10---that’s a tad ridiculous.

Nonetheless, despite assurances that the parkway will be at a minimum tended to when the weather warms up, that ain’t feeding the bulldog.

The amount of trash on the parkway of the school across the street is unbelievable. So much so, that I personally went out and took pictures this afternoon.

In the City of Chicago the parkway is the responsibility of the owner of the property. Since the school across the street is the owner of several lots, they should be taking care of the parkway.

Not just what resides inside of their fence line.

Trust me, I’m not happy.

It’s bad enough I live around people who don’t either think enough of their neighborhood or are visited by people who don’t think enough of my block that they leave their litter all over the place.

Now I have to contend with well meaning but a slow moving neighbor across the street.

If their esteemed alumni had to look at shit like that at the entrance of the school, there would be an uproar.

But on the other side of the fence line on the south end of the campus, we’re treated as an afterthought.

I just have to look at this ghetto shit and be reminded of how tall fences don’t necessarily make good neighbors.

Communication

While you may not know it by this blog, I tend to procrastinate.

A great deal quite frankly.

One of my pet projects that was pushed to the back of the closet was the virtual bulletin board/chat room I've been working on for the association.

Weighing the fact that we had bigger fish to fry last year, it seemed like a small sacrifice.

Nonetheless, as an association we need a better way to communicate with each other and to turn our piles of paper into a manageable paperless system.

I feel like Dr. Frankenstein waiting to breathe life into his creation. I really hope it not only works but manages to make everyone's life easier.

In the 21st century it's all about accessibility.

Not only would it serve as a repository for important documents such as monthly meeting minutes, financials and the like but it could also serve as a virtual meeting room. Imagine having a monthly meeting with all of your neighbors in the comfort of your jammies.

Hopefully the online chat feature will be our new best friend.

Plus every time someone wanted to see minutes from the last three meetings or the financials from last June, we can simply point them to the group and let them get nuts.

Then of course, a computer and internet access would also be helpful. Most people seem to have some type of internet access either at home or at work so that shouldn't be a problem.

Now while it's all about accessibility---it's about selective accessibility. After all we don't want everyone to see our business. I believe I've got everything on lock but want to test this out five ways to Sunday before an announcement is made that the association is on the information superhighway.

1,000

I need to give a big "super awesome" to a kind reader in Phenix City, Alabama for giving me the 1,000 hit on this blog.

I'm now clocking four digits on the hit counter. I appreciate the interest.

The Business

I feel like friggin Al Pacino in the Godfather, Part III.

Whenever I feel like we are home free from a situation, something (or someone) pulls us back in.

Like these flippin foreclosures.

It’s not bad enough that we had to deal with the deadbeats. It’s not bad enough that we have to diligently deal with property managers and mortgage companies. But now the latest outrage is that a young woman is being threatened with eviction by the new owners of her unit.

Happy new year and hit the bricks.

From what I understand, the young mother received a call last week from a representative of the new owner all but telling her that she must vacate the property in six days.

Now I wasn’t on the phone with her nor did I hear the conversation. In all honesty I got this third hand from another board member after the young woman told him about the call.

I know this sounds a touch Pollyannaish but, Jesus Christ, where has the freaking civility gone in this world?

A young mother now has to find a decent place to live toots sweet because her former landlord didn’t think it was important to pay his mortgage on time.

Like that’s her fault.

This situation also begs the following questions:
Did her former landlord inform her of his foreclosure?
Will she ever receive her security deposit back?
There aren’t a lot of vacancies in Chicago in February much less CHAC vacancies. How will she find a secure, clean and decent place to move in such a short period of time?
If she moves out of her children’s school district, will the children have to change schools mid year?

This is just about the worst news that anyone could receive at this time of the year. That poor woman is just getting the business handed to her---straight, no chaser.

If anyone who’s reading this is an investment property owner, keep this situation in mind the next time you want to play Russian roulette with your mortgage bills.

Photos

Well snapfish can't link a photo album to a blog so if you want to see Phase I of the porches, you'll have to click on the "View My Complete Profile" link to get to my contact information so you can e-mail me.

Once you send me your e-mail address, I'll be able to send you an invitation to view the photos Please note that snapfish registration may be required to view the complete album. Don't shoot the messenger; these are their rules---not mine.

Frankly I think the progress that our porch crew has made has been nothing short of amazing.

Home Stretch

The third porch was lying in a pile of broken wood by the end of last Friday.

It continued to lie on the ground until yesterday.

I guess seeing our porch crew work on a few Saturdays made me think that that they would be working every Saturday. Apparently that is not the case.

Then of course the recent cold snap of weather may have played a part in the rubble not being removed until yesterday.

So at this point we have two quasi-completed porches (about 90%) and a clean slate on the last building.

Due to the temperatures, it’s more than likely concrete will not be able to be poured until it warms up a bit. Hopefully everything will be completed---lock, stock and barrel some time before St. Patrick’s Day.

I’m working on a porch photo album on snapfish. I’ll post when it’s completed and instructions on how to view the contents.

99 Problems

As if I don't have enough to deal with day to day I now found out that my cat Jack has lymphosarcoma.

Apparently I'm getting some major karma for some shit I pulled in the past.

Rolling Out

I saw my developer cruising down the street past our home last night.

Strike that---I saw one of my developer’s vehicles cruising down the street last night. There’s no mistaking that three-digit plate number on his black Range Rover.

He may or may not have been driving.

I’m sure that passing by our homes might have been the quickest way to get to his destination. Or perhaps he was performing property management duties somewhere near---who’s to say?
I just found the whole thing interesting.

Caustic’s Folly

As if acting like a shrill toddler at the community meeting weren’t enough, Caustic pulled out a whopper at one of our monthly association meetings.

In the first two years of the association the general association meetings were few and far in between. Communication between the board and the general membership was virtually non-existent.

Last year in 2005 the new board decided that since we had so much facing the association it would be in our best interest to have a general meeting every month. In both theory and practice it was a great idea so we could get together and brain storm as well as be informed about the multitude of issues facing the association.

While I’ve been giving you kind people the blow by blow about the porches, it isn’t the only maintenance/capital improvement issue facing our association. Quite frankly it was simply the one that needed the greatest attention at the time.

Anyone who lives in a vintage building will tell you that these old girls require a great deal of time and commitment to keep them looking their best.

The buildings that comprise our association are no different.

Being solidly middle class wage earners, the totality of saying to your general membership that a huge special assessment needed to be levied didn’t leave anyone jumping for joy.

After all, we belong to the association and pay assessments as well.

The special assessment we levied for the porches was bad enough. I can’t even begin to imagine if we totaled up all of the work that needed to be done and levied a special assessment based on that.

They would be coming for us with pitchforks and knives.

Caustic’s issue happened to coincide with the old homestead hitting the market.

At one of our monthly meetings, Caustic had the gall to suggest that the association file a claim with our insurance company to fix a plumbing problem in the basement.

Now I’m sure Caustic meant to have that money cover all of the plumbing issues in all of the basements, not just the one that affected Caustic’s potential home sale---but who knows a person’s true intent?

I was dumbfounded. I lost the power of speech.

At the time we just---and I mean just---renegotiated a significant reduction in our insurance rates.

Why in God’s name would we want to file a claim to have them skyrocket up again? And all for a cost that more than likely could be covered out of our (meager) reserve fund.

Let me not mince words here, it was the way it was demanded and the tone it was demanded in that struck me dumb.

Mind you the board wasn’t asked how this latest wrinkle could fit into the budget or Caustic take the onus to find estimates and work up a presentation at a future meeting.

It was just the attitude of “I’ve graced you dumbasses with my presence. Note that my concerns are far more important than the overall good of the association.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Could Caustic’s sudden concern for the building’s plumbing problems and the home sale be any more transparent? Not to me it wasn’t.

I love the type of people who don’t give a flying fuck about something until it affects them directly.

Blinded by the tunnel vision of the goal, Caustic continued to rant about filing an insurance claim until someone, I can’t remember who, thankfully put the kibosh on that crazy talk.

I’m not against self interest but not at the expense of fiscal fitness of the association.

Counting The Ways

As I stated in the Corrosive post, Caustic is a royal pain in the ass.

How, you ask?

Let me give you one of two examples of this person’s typical behavior.

Our association is located across the street from a prominent all boys Catholic high school. Around two years ago, this institution started work on what is now their brand spanking new field house. Unbeknownst to us, the school had petitioned the Department of Streets and Sanitation to officially take possession of the street.

The school’s plan was to close the street, turn it into green area and fence it in with the rest of their campus.

Unfortunately for those of us who live on the south side of the school’s property line, that street was the most direct route to the Metra platform

By the time any of us found out what was going on---our official notices and letters were going to the wrong address---it was too late to do anything about the process.

Sidebar: This incident was the catalyst for me becoming much more active within my association and my neighborhood. When I started tracking down why official mail was going to the wrong address, I started unearthing that our condo association’s paperwork with the Secretary of State’s office was out of date and had lapsed. It’s somewhat ironic that the school across the street prompted me into greater building and civic awareness.

Nonetheless, I sprang into action informing my neighbors of what was about to happen and also contacted the principal. This street was important for our commute to the Metra station. Without it, anyone who lived south of the school would have to take one of two other paths that not only are out of the way but both are along busy streets.

One of the routes is on a street that has no sidewalk on one side and a broken and crumbling one on the other. Additionally, both paths can be extremely dark and desolate and night.

Not an attractive alternative.

The school was sympathetic to our plight and arranged a kind of Q & A with the Principal and his staff as well as our alderman.

While the meeting itself wasn’t too well attended by my neighbors, a few did show up and questions were posed and answered.

We all got a quick education in how the City of Chicago works, what an alderman can and cannot approve and that the Streets and San is pretty much autonomous. In short, the school and their construction company did everything by the book.

Trust me, I went back and checked when the community letters were sent.

They hired a top notch law firm who literally told me when and where the letters were sent simply by me mentioning the name of the construction project.

The Principal was committed to finding a workable solution, but insurance rates and having their property fenced in ultimately made the decision for him.

He and his staff promised to notify us of any type of community altering actions in the future.

Do you think that their carving out time for a meeting, stepping us through the process giving us the name of their law firm to check on the details would be enough?

No, not for my neighbor Caustic.

Caustic ranted and raved about how unfair it was while offering no viable solutions to the problem. As I found out later, this is something that would be a mainstay of Caustic’s negotiation process.

If you can call being a “my way or the highway” philosophy a negation process.

Honestly, much of what Caustic said is fuzzy as it didn’t make sense with the set of definitives that were being presented at the time.

Construction wasn’t going to stop at this stage of the game because our association didn’t handle its business. It was a hard lesson to learn.

Also a few less minutes of sleep in the morning because I have to get out the door earlier, but nonetheless good came out of the experience.

I (and the collective) learned that if you don’t handle your business in the City of Chicago, your business will handle you. End of story.

I was just so personally embarrassed by Caustic’s escalating tone and behavior I just wanted to die.

Once Caustic was finished, I gave my best “I’m sorry” look to the Principal and his staff.

Thank God our alderman stepped in and executed a Caustic block and somehow defused a potential shouting match.

I mean if the Principal wanted to spend his spare time being berated by an angry homeowner, he’d sit on the property tax appeal board.

Let's Play Two

Porch number two is all but complete.

Our crew started demolishing the third and last porch this morning and there should be a big empty space where it stood when I return home tonight.

A Thousand Words Again