Courtesy of yours truly CHAC is now well informed about the glaring loopholes regarding foreclosures in their system.
I have talked with several high level people regarding why government money is being sent to people whose properties are either going into or are deep in the foreclosure process.
My remedies and suggestions are getting the once over by the top brass. Time will tell if I’ve made a difference on this one.
The wheels of justice grind slowly.
Courtesy of yours truly my developer now has a stop work order placed on the building he’s “developing” literally around the corner from me.
In fact, when the leaves are off the trees, I can look across the vacant fields and see where the work was happening.
That's was as in past tense.
That’s all been stopped now.
True to form, Mr. Knight was basically doing a gut rehab with no plans on file with the Department of Construction and Permits, commonly known as DCAP. He also did not apply for any permits until recently.
Not a one.
I can only imagine the next groups of buyer’s faces when they find out that their homes are not quite what they imagined them to be. Then of course both the Attorney General’s Office and the Consumer Affairs Department of the City of Chicago basically told me I don’t have a right to expect that my electricity be done correctly.
So what do I know?
Nonetheless a stop work order was issued May 10th.
Now hold on to your hats kids ‘cause this is where it gets tricky.
Per the Real Estate Registry ordinance that was created by the city every front page of an estimate, contract, subcontract and advertisements for residential real estate development must have the developer’s business license number.
More importantly every application for a building permit is supposed to carry that business license number as well.
Mr. Knight has no business license number that I can find registered with the city.
Now I’m sure my search hasn’t been as detailed as it should be. It’s kind of difficult to know the name of every business registered in the Illinois Secretary of State’s system. It would be nice to be able to pull up a list using a registered agent query but that animal doesn’t exist for that office yet.
I did have the city do a search on several known business names that Mr. Knight has used in the past or is the registered agent for according to the Secretary of State’s office and nothing turned up.
That’s not to say that he doesn’t have a business license, it just may be under a name of a company I have yet to discover.
If he wants to continue to develop residential property legally (note the key word legally), he’ll have to beat a path to the Department of Revenue’s door.
Now here’s the linchpin---the internet listings for Mr. Knight’s developments that are currently in circulation should, according to the registry, be taken down.
Nowhere in the internet listings did I see any business license number.
What happens if some person falls for that pre-construction pricing bit, and actually plunks down some hard earned case as earnest money on a development that has no architecture plans or legal permits?
Then they have to wait for a development that may or may not happen.
That individual then may or may not throw any plans about breaking leases and a moving date out the window.
Roof over your head? Highly overrated.
What happens if this person loses out on another potential unit because he or she put down a contract on a building that is for all intensive purposes sitting on the back burner?
Moreover the earnest money might give my developer capital to keep his ruse(s) going.
You see the Lord High Executioner has been very helpful with this whole Knight business.
When the report hit his desk about Mr. Knight’s development activities in my hoody ho, I could hear the amazement in his voice.
Lord High Executioner:
“He essentially did a gut rehab with no permits. He didn’t even file any type of plan with the city.”
Me:
“I told you so. This does not come as a surprise to me.”
Lord High Executioner:
“How can you just do that?”
Me:
“Because he can---trust me this is an established pattern.”
Lord High Executioner:
“Well it doesn’t matter as everything will have to be ripped out reinstalled and inspected properly.”
Me:
**grinning into the phone**
Wait till the Lord High Executioner gets a copy of the tape from the informal hearing with Consumer Affairs from last fall, he’s gonna plotz all over himself.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Teaser
Posts about conversations with various city officials, a stop work order, CHAC loopholes and a date with the Lord High Executioner are all in the works.
I've been a busy little bee the past few weeks.
Stay tuned.
I've been a busy little bee the past few weeks.
Stay tuned.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Signs
You know there’s something a bit disconcerting about seeing a couple of auctioneers duct tape a big yellow auction sign to your building.
Actually I should say a building in our association.
Apparently one of our mortgage company neighbors is tired of having their unit on the market.
A price reduction of close to $60,000 wasn’t working for them either.
They’ve reached their breaking point and are putting the unit on the auction block.
Did I mention that this unit is in the building that has the crumbling facade?
Oh yeah---that hasn’t been fixed yet either. But that’s another conversation for another post.
So my lovely sister and I are driving to Moo and Oink for some last minute barbeque fixins’ when I spy my neighbor and a nice couple chatting while a big yellow sign announcing an auction was being duct taped to the brick of the building.
Boy howdy---pull over sissy dear Woody has to investigate.
Now granted I looked like a bag of ass---my ever-present weekend headscarf, crappy tank top, jeans and my throw back sunglasses probably didn’t present the best picture to the couple from the auction house.
They seemed like a nice couple. I know they were only doing their job.
Nonetheless I explained that due to provisions in our declarations and bylaws, no sign---much less a big yellow one---could be posted in any unit window or on the outside of the building.
The gentleman said there was nowhere else to post it near the premises. He wanted to know where would I suggest that they place the sign.
No, I didn’t say what you think I might of said.
When dealing in condo business, it’s always best to keep it professional.
I suggested that they put it in the ground.
They said that after a few inches they simple hit concrete and the signposts wouldn’t go in any further.
They claimed that there was nowhere else to post the sign other than the building.
While I understood their predicament, that solution was simply unacceptable.
Plus how friggin’ ghetto would that shit look?
We have another unit in that particular building that’s for sale as well. How in Pete’s name is that one gonna get sold with a ghetto ass auction sign posted on the building?
Despite the fact they had a job to do that sign was going to come down immediately after they left.
The couple seemed resigned to that fact, took a few digital photographs and called it day.
My sister and I proceeded to Moo and Oink.
When I came back to take the sign down, it had already fallen.
Duct tape + humidity + brick = Sign on ground.
Actually I should say a building in our association.
Apparently one of our mortgage company neighbors is tired of having their unit on the market.
A price reduction of close to $60,000 wasn’t working for them either.
They’ve reached their breaking point and are putting the unit on the auction block.
Did I mention that this unit is in the building that has the crumbling facade?
Oh yeah---that hasn’t been fixed yet either. But that’s another conversation for another post.
So my lovely sister and I are driving to Moo and Oink for some last minute barbeque fixins’ when I spy my neighbor and a nice couple chatting while a big yellow sign announcing an auction was being duct taped to the brick of the building.
Boy howdy---pull over sissy dear Woody has to investigate.
Now granted I looked like a bag of ass---my ever-present weekend headscarf, crappy tank top, jeans and my throw back sunglasses probably didn’t present the best picture to the couple from the auction house.
They seemed like a nice couple. I know they were only doing their job.
Nonetheless I explained that due to provisions in our declarations and bylaws, no sign---much less a big yellow one---could be posted in any unit window or on the outside of the building.
The gentleman said there was nowhere else to post it near the premises. He wanted to know where would I suggest that they place the sign.
No, I didn’t say what you think I might of said.
When dealing in condo business, it’s always best to keep it professional.
I suggested that they put it in the ground.
They said that after a few inches they simple hit concrete and the signposts wouldn’t go in any further.
They claimed that there was nowhere else to post the sign other than the building.
While I understood their predicament, that solution was simply unacceptable.
Plus how friggin’ ghetto would that shit look?
We have another unit in that particular building that’s for sale as well. How in Pete’s name is that one gonna get sold with a ghetto ass auction sign posted on the building?
Despite the fact they had a job to do that sign was going to come down immediately after they left.
The couple seemed resigned to that fact, took a few digital photographs and called it day.
My sister and I proceeded to Moo and Oink.
When I came back to take the sign down, it had already fallen.
Duct tape + humidity + brick = Sign on ground.
Reflection
Yesterday I neglected to give a shout out to some very ordinary people who have (and had) done extra ordinary things, in some very uncomfortable places with some very unfriendly people.
Memorial Day just isn't the start of the summer and an excuse for me to work like one of Pharaoh’s slaves in the kitchen.
It's a time to truly reflect and thank those of you who have served and are serving so the rest of us have little to worry about except our bootleg developers.
I'm quite sure there are people on the face of this planet who wished they had my problems. Hell, I'd be willing to bet that some women can't even own property much less complain about it's condition.
This Brie eating and Chardonnay swilling southsider salutes you.
Memorial Day just isn't the start of the summer and an excuse for me to work like one of Pharaoh’s slaves in the kitchen.
It's a time to truly reflect and thank those of you who have served and are serving so the rest of us have little to worry about except our bootleg developers.
I'm quite sure there are people on the face of this planet who wished they had my problems. Hell, I'd be willing to bet that some women can't even own property much less complain about it's condition.
This Brie eating and Chardonnay swilling southsider salutes you.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
3%
Yet another letter that's worth sharing:
Hey, I just found your blog and love it.
I'm one of your white, VW-driving Woodlawn neighbors. It's great to see someone else talking about race in Chicago. I'm in the middle of "Making the Second Ghetto" which is all about the forces that formed the South Side, including the shady real estate deals and the unfair lending practices. It's pretty eye opening (and a bit heart-breaking)
I was just talking about the rent vs. own debate that residents in Woodlawn are wrestling with. By the way, I tried to leave a comment, but I'm not a blogger so I was blocked from doing so. Regardless, great blog.
Thanks,
XXXX
Is that not just a hoot? I wonder if my black chardonnay swilling, brie eating ass can hitch a ride in the Jetta to Trader Joes? That ladies and gentlemen would be true diversity in action.
Hey, I just found your blog and love it.
I'm one of your white, VW-driving Woodlawn neighbors. It's great to see someone else talking about race in Chicago. I'm in the middle of "Making the Second Ghetto" which is all about the forces that formed the South Side, including the shady real estate deals and the unfair lending practices. It's pretty eye opening (and a bit heart-breaking)
I was just talking about the rent vs. own debate that residents in Woodlawn are wrestling with. By the way, I tried to leave a comment, but I'm not a blogger so I was blocked from doing so. Regardless, great blog.
Thanks,
XXXX
Is that not just a hoot? I wonder if my black chardonnay swilling, brie eating ass can hitch a ride in the Jetta to Trader Joes? That ladies and gentlemen would be true diversity in action.
A Trashy Follow Up
The humidity is doing quite a number on my hair today.
Ladies and gentlemen I literally have an afro. A friggin' Angela Davis afro is sitting on my head as you read these soothing words.
All I need is a black power pick, large hoop earning and a darshiki to complete the look
Note: This is NOT a good look for me (or anyone).
But the humidity and the rain does encourage all things green to grown and flourish. For those of us who like that type of thing, this is great.
You know what else is great?
The fact that the school across the street is not only picking up the trash on the parkway every week but their lawn crew also mows down the grass/weeds on a weekly basis as well.
Who says a little effort won't go a long way? The block looks super.
Ladies and gentlemen I literally have an afro. A friggin' Angela Davis afro is sitting on my head as you read these soothing words.
All I need is a black power pick, large hoop earning and a darshiki to complete the look
Note: This is NOT a good look for me (or anyone).
But the humidity and the rain does encourage all things green to grown and flourish. For those of us who like that type of thing, this is great.
You know what else is great?
The fact that the school across the street is not only picking up the trash on the parkway every week but their lawn crew also mows down the grass/weeds on a weekly basis as well.
Who says a little effort won't go a long way? The block looks super.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
The Facade
We barely avoided our porches crashing to the ground so I guess it makes sense that something had to eventually catch us off guard, right?
It would seem that a part of our facade provided our little wake up call.
Almost two weeks ago a three foot section came crashing down from above the third floor balconies to the street below.
It was only through God’s grace that no one got hurt or property didn’t get damaged.
We have so many school aged children in the neighborhood---how could we even form the words to apologize to someone’s mother for such a mishap?
The thought alone makes tears well up in my eyes.
It’s not like we don’t have enough to consider---now this? While I’m sure you can understand my moment of self pity and passing comparison with Job, it does kind of make you wonder if the association is jinxed.
There’s just so much that has yet to be addressed and we (and I use that term loosely) are fighting so hard that you would think karma would cut us a little more room than usual.
Or at least stop kicking us in the ass.
I was on my way home from the train and saw our board President run out the gate and around the corner. When I followed, a pile of bricks and a cloud of dust greeted my gaze.
The bricks fell right in front of one of the three entrances to our association.
Had anyone been exiting or entering the building the precise time those bricks had fallen they would have been badly hurt.
From what I’ve been told, the building wasn’t tuck pointed upon it’s rehab and now normal wear and Chicago weather has loosened our facade.
As of this post, the resolution of this situation---at least to my knowledge---remains very much up in the air. I have not heard how much the repairs would be much less tuck pointing of the whole building.
I know another special assessment is coming.
Methinks it’s time to up the ante with Mr. Knight.
Either his ignorance or outright negligence is squarely to blame for our present circumstances. Hazardous back porches, sketchy wiring, a growing city fine and now a falling facade---someone owes us some money.
I think it’s time to collect what we’re due.
It would seem that a part of our facade provided our little wake up call.
Almost two weeks ago a three foot section came crashing down from above the third floor balconies to the street below.
It was only through God’s grace that no one got hurt or property didn’t get damaged.
We have so many school aged children in the neighborhood---how could we even form the words to apologize to someone’s mother for such a mishap?
The thought alone makes tears well up in my eyes.
It’s not like we don’t have enough to consider---now this? While I’m sure you can understand my moment of self pity and passing comparison with Job, it does kind of make you wonder if the association is jinxed.
There’s just so much that has yet to be addressed and we (and I use that term loosely) are fighting so hard that you would think karma would cut us a little more room than usual.
Or at least stop kicking us in the ass.
I was on my way home from the train and saw our board President run out the gate and around the corner. When I followed, a pile of bricks and a cloud of dust greeted my gaze.
The bricks fell right in front of one of the three entrances to our association.
Had anyone been exiting or entering the building the precise time those bricks had fallen they would have been badly hurt.
From what I’ve been told, the building wasn’t tuck pointed upon it’s rehab and now normal wear and Chicago weather has loosened our facade.
As of this post, the resolution of this situation---at least to my knowledge---remains very much up in the air. I have not heard how much the repairs would be much less tuck pointing of the whole building.
I know another special assessment is coming.
Methinks it’s time to up the ante with Mr. Knight.
Either his ignorance or outright negligence is squarely to blame for our present circumstances. Hazardous back porches, sketchy wiring, a growing city fine and now a falling facade---someone owes us some money.
I think it’s time to collect what we’re due.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Railing Against The Man
An Open Letter To The Pinheads at Cerberus Capital Management:
You suck.
Now I know that there are levels of business that are way above my fuzzy little head but the eventual gutting and closing of Cub Foods on 87th Street cannot be one of your company’s finest moments.
In fact, rumor has it that all of the Cub Foods in the Chicagoland area will be closed within a year. Would that have anything to do with Cerberus’ involvement in a group to purchase the Jewel supermarket chain? Or has that already happened?
Now forgive me if my conspiracy theory addled brain is working overtime but south siders have very few shopping options.
South siders without cars have even fewer.
Taking away a high quality affordable option for groceries while owning the high cost alternative is like putting the rat in charge of the cheese don’t you think?
Because I’m sure it never entered your mind that when taking away Cub Foods would drive most of your consumers south of Madison Street to Jewel.
It’s not like the prices at Jewel weren’t ridiculous to begin with. I’m sure this significant reduction in competition will lead to those going down---right?
If you jokers think that my brie eating, chardonnay swilling ass is going to knuckle under to this under performing store bullshit you’ve got another thing coming.
I pissed and moaned about going miles away from home to get decent food at a decent price and I put the jinx on all of us.
Jewel may be a place where I can get chittlins AND veggie burgers at the same store but you cats ain’t the only game down here.
While Save-A-Lot and Food 4 Less may not have the selection, they definitely have the deals. I also hear that Ultra Foods is the bomb diggity.
I’m going to go to Cubs for as long as I can or until their stock runs out but don’t think I won’t be shopping at these other places for the best deals until I find my new grocery shopping home.
Don’t also think that I won’t be activating that dormant account at Peapod. They come down to the ‘hood as well.
The most egregious part of this whole thing is that a quality shopping center which are few and far between on the south side is losing an anchor store with nothing slated to fill it’s spot in the near future.
Like we need another unlit boarded up place with an unpatrolled parking lot for the Jenkins Boys to hang.
Bravo, Cerberus---the neighborhood, the whole of the south side and a soon to be former customer thank you for attempting to take the area back economically twenty-five years.
I’ll soon be hitching rides to Trader Joes to buy my Brie and chardonnay there.
So nuts to you.
Warmest Regards,
The Woodlawn Wonder
You suck.
Now I know that there are levels of business that are way above my fuzzy little head but the eventual gutting and closing of Cub Foods on 87th Street cannot be one of your company’s finest moments.
In fact, rumor has it that all of the Cub Foods in the Chicagoland area will be closed within a year. Would that have anything to do with Cerberus’ involvement in a group to purchase the Jewel supermarket chain? Or has that already happened?
Now forgive me if my conspiracy theory addled brain is working overtime but south siders have very few shopping options.
South siders without cars have even fewer.
Taking away a high quality affordable option for groceries while owning the high cost alternative is like putting the rat in charge of the cheese don’t you think?
Because I’m sure it never entered your mind that when taking away Cub Foods would drive most of your consumers south of Madison Street to Jewel.
It’s not like the prices at Jewel weren’t ridiculous to begin with. I’m sure this significant reduction in competition will lead to those going down---right?
If you jokers think that my brie eating, chardonnay swilling ass is going to knuckle under to this under performing store bullshit you’ve got another thing coming.
I pissed and moaned about going miles away from home to get decent food at a decent price and I put the jinx on all of us.
Jewel may be a place where I can get chittlins AND veggie burgers at the same store but you cats ain’t the only game down here.
While Save-A-Lot and Food 4 Less may not have the selection, they definitely have the deals. I also hear that Ultra Foods is the bomb diggity.
I’m going to go to Cubs for as long as I can or until their stock runs out but don’t think I won’t be shopping at these other places for the best deals until I find my new grocery shopping home.
Don’t also think that I won’t be activating that dormant account at Peapod. They come down to the ‘hood as well.
The most egregious part of this whole thing is that a quality shopping center which are few and far between on the south side is losing an anchor store with nothing slated to fill it’s spot in the near future.
Like we need another unlit boarded up place with an unpatrolled parking lot for the Jenkins Boys to hang.
Bravo, Cerberus---the neighborhood, the whole of the south side and a soon to be former customer thank you for attempting to take the area back economically twenty-five years.
I’ll soon be hitching rides to Trader Joes to buy my Brie and chardonnay there.
So nuts to you.
Warmest Regards,
The Woodlawn Wonder
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Beating The Horse Further
Just so you don't think I'm blowing smoke up your ass about this race and neighborhood thing, a cat from Northwestern noticed it too.
Interesting reading.
Interesting reading.
Lattes and Liquor Bottles
To quote Bob Roberts, the times are a-changin’---back.
I mentioned in last Tuesday’s post a brief history of the decline of Woodlawn and how the demographics in my little hoody hoo are changing.
In short, the white people have called—apparently they want their neighborhoods back.
In my earlier post I alluded how class and race are often a potent mix in Chicago and the outlying suburbs. People don’t want to talk about the elephant in the room but it’s there and it isn’t going away.
The Chicago Sun Times did an excellent article on how race or the perception of the racial demographic of a neighborhood affects the value of a home. While the revelation wasn’t jaw dropping to me, other people were simply amazed.
To be frank, one of the reasons I moved to the south side from the north side because I was tired of being “the exception.”
No matter when or how it’s phrased it has been my experience that somewhere along the line you’ll be praised for how articulate you are and how you’re such as asset to the neighborhood.
That’s modern version of saying that you’re a credit to your race.
Like those individuals had never seen a black woman tend to a flower garden before.
Kids, that weighs on a sister after awhile.
I knew that there are other middle class blacks just like me---I wasn’t a once in a lifetime occurrence. I got tired of being damned with faint praise. I got tired of people raving aobut my facilitation of a near riotous C.A.P.S. meeting yet not recognizing me on the street in non business attire.
But most of all I got tired of some people assuming that the whole of the black race was no good.
Granted, the Jenkins’ Boys are in full effect but they, not the rest of us, are the exception and not the rule.
So I set off for parts unknown. I set off to live in a black neighborhood
Plus it would be easier to sneak into barbeques in the park as Uncle Roscoe’s and Aunt Wanda’s long lost niece.
It also didn’t hurt that the prices south of Madison Street are more affordable.
Well fast forward a couple of years and look what we got; Woodlawn edging toward the precipice of full blown gentrification.
Why am I bringing this up? Why am I flipping the elephant on its head?
The old condo rumor mill is all a twitter with the news that we might be getting our first white neighbor in the association.
Lord Jesus.
While it’s good to hear that one of the foreclosed upon units will be sold to an actual resident owner, I’m kinda torn on this one.
Not only did I want to live in a black neighborhood but I envisioned improving the neighborhood---reinventing it into an upwardly mobile hip happening place; just simply one that’s populated by black people.
Apparently there’s some type of negative stereotype that too many black people can decrease the appearance and property value of a neighborhood.
I don’t know how and why such bullshit got started but it could start to explain the disparity in the home values of Avalon Park and Portage Park.
But I think people are building a bridge and getting over themselves as the homes in Jackson Park Highlands are better than those crap McMansions in Lincoln Park.
The great thing about the Highlands is that it’s an all black neighborhood with historic mansions and rich people.
It’s my dream neighborhood.
I walked through there one day to take a look at my uber house with the wrap around porch and was greeted with looks that could freeze water.
With some of the Highlanders it’s not an issue of color but rather of familiarity. If they don’t know you and you’re not an invited guest, you’re gonna get the stink eye.
I can’t say I blame them as I look at people I don’t know meandering through my neighborhood the same way. If you don’t have a legitimate purpose or a destination---gets to steppin’
Naturally some will think that the positive changes that will start to be seen in the hood may be a direct effect of the changing demographic.
I welcome my new neighbors but it makes me wonder what our home values would have been with the improvements to the neighborhood with the current demographic?
When I bought my first place in Uptown the neighborhood was going through similar changes.
Now the old hood has blown up and home prices have skyrocketed.
Perhaps I’ve become a good indicator of if a neighborhood will increase in value. Perhaps from now on we’ll call it the Woody factor.
Who knew?
I mentioned in last Tuesday’s post a brief history of the decline of Woodlawn and how the demographics in my little hoody hoo are changing.
In short, the white people have called—apparently they want their neighborhoods back.
In my earlier post I alluded how class and race are often a potent mix in Chicago and the outlying suburbs. People don’t want to talk about the elephant in the room but it’s there and it isn’t going away.
The Chicago Sun Times did an excellent article on how race or the perception of the racial demographic of a neighborhood affects the value of a home. While the revelation wasn’t jaw dropping to me, other people were simply amazed.
To be frank, one of the reasons I moved to the south side from the north side because I was tired of being “the exception.”
No matter when or how it’s phrased it has been my experience that somewhere along the line you’ll be praised for how articulate you are and how you’re such as asset to the neighborhood.
That’s modern version of saying that you’re a credit to your race.
Like those individuals had never seen a black woman tend to a flower garden before.
Kids, that weighs on a sister after awhile.
I knew that there are other middle class blacks just like me---I wasn’t a once in a lifetime occurrence. I got tired of being damned with faint praise. I got tired of people raving aobut my facilitation of a near riotous C.A.P.S. meeting yet not recognizing me on the street in non business attire.
But most of all I got tired of some people assuming that the whole of the black race was no good.
Granted, the Jenkins’ Boys are in full effect but they, not the rest of us, are the exception and not the rule.
So I set off for parts unknown. I set off to live in a black neighborhood
Plus it would be easier to sneak into barbeques in the park as Uncle Roscoe’s and Aunt Wanda’s long lost niece.
It also didn’t hurt that the prices south of Madison Street are more affordable.
Well fast forward a couple of years and look what we got; Woodlawn edging toward the precipice of full blown gentrification.
Why am I bringing this up? Why am I flipping the elephant on its head?
The old condo rumor mill is all a twitter with the news that we might be getting our first white neighbor in the association.
Lord Jesus.
While it’s good to hear that one of the foreclosed upon units will be sold to an actual resident owner, I’m kinda torn on this one.
Not only did I want to live in a black neighborhood but I envisioned improving the neighborhood---reinventing it into an upwardly mobile hip happening place; just simply one that’s populated by black people.
Apparently there’s some type of negative stereotype that too many black people can decrease the appearance and property value of a neighborhood.
I don’t know how and why such bullshit got started but it could start to explain the disparity in the home values of Avalon Park and Portage Park.
But I think people are building a bridge and getting over themselves as the homes in Jackson Park Highlands are better than those crap McMansions in Lincoln Park.
The great thing about the Highlands is that it’s an all black neighborhood with historic mansions and rich people.
It’s my dream neighborhood.
I walked through there one day to take a look at my uber house with the wrap around porch and was greeted with looks that could freeze water.
With some of the Highlanders it’s not an issue of color but rather of familiarity. If they don’t know you and you’re not an invited guest, you’re gonna get the stink eye.
I can’t say I blame them as I look at people I don’t know meandering through my neighborhood the same way. If you don’t have a legitimate purpose or a destination---gets to steppin’
Naturally some will think that the positive changes that will start to be seen in the hood may be a direct effect of the changing demographic.
I welcome my new neighbors but it makes me wonder what our home values would have been with the improvements to the neighborhood with the current demographic?
When I bought my first place in Uptown the neighborhood was going through similar changes.
Now the old hood has blown up and home prices have skyrocketed.
Perhaps I’ve become a good indicator of if a neighborhood will increase in value. Perhaps from now on we’ll call it the Woody factor.
Who knew?
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Thumbs Up For Bloglet
Bloglet should be operational for those of you that have subscribed. Now your developer hatin' can continue uninterrupted.
Thanks for your patience.
Thanks for your patience.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Job
From our friends at Wikipedia.com:
"Job was a man of great probity, virtue, and religion, and he possessed much riches in cattle and slaves, which at that time constituted the principal wealth even of princes in Arabia and Edom. He had seven sons and three daughters and was in great repute among all people, on both sides of the Euphrates.
His sons made entertainments for each other; and when they had gone through the circle of their days of feasting, Job sent to them, purified them, and offered burn-offerings for each one in order that God might pardon any faults unintentionally committed against him during such festivities. He was wholly averse from injustice, idolatry, fraud, and adultery. He avoided evil thoughts, and dangerous looks, was compassionate to the poor, a father to the orphan, a protector to the widow, a guide to the blind, and a supporter to the lame.
God permitted Satan to put the virtue of Job to the test. At first by giving him power over his property, but forbidding him to touch his person. Satan began with taking away his oxen: a company of Sabeans slew his husbandmen and drove off all the beasts; one servant only escaping to bring the news. While he was reporting this misfortune, a second came, and informed Job that fire from heaven had consumed his sheep, and those who kept them; and that he alone had escaped. A third messenger arrived, who said "The Chaldeans have carried away the camels, have killed all your servants, and I only am escaped."He had scarcely concluded, when another came, and said, "While your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking in their eldest brother's house, an impetuous wind suddenly overthrew it, and they were all crushed to death under the ruins; I alone am escaped to bring you this news."
Job rented his clothes and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground saying, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb and naked shall I return there. The Lord gave and the Lord had taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."As Job endured these calamities without repining against Providence, satan solicited permission to afflict his person, and the Lord said, "Behold he is in your hand, but don’t touch his life." Satan, therefore, smote him with a dreadful disease, probably leprosy, and Job, seated in ashes, scraped off the corruption with a potsherd. His wife incited him to "curse God, and die" but Job answered "Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?"
In meantime, three of his friends, having been informed of his misfortunes, came to visit him - Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. A fourth was Elihu the Buzite, who from chapter 32 bears a distinguished part in the dialogue. It is also interesting to note that others also may have been listening to the dialogue of Job and his three friends.
They continued seven days sitting on the ground by him, without speaking, but at last Job broke silence, and complained of his misery. His friends, not distinguishing between the evils with which God tries those whom he loves and the afflictions with which he punishes the wicked, accused him of having indulged some secret impiety, and urged him to return to God by repentance and humbly to submit to his justice, since he suffered only according to his demerits.
Job, convinced of his own innocence, maintained that his sufferings were greater than his faults and that God sometimes afflicted the righteous only to try them, to give them an opportunity of manifesting or of improving their pious dispositions, or because it was his pleasure, for reasons unknown to mankind."
The above synopsis pretty much summed up how I felt when part of our building facade came crashing down to the pavement last Thursday.
"Job was a man of great probity, virtue, and religion, and he possessed much riches in cattle and slaves, which at that time constituted the principal wealth even of princes in Arabia and Edom. He had seven sons and three daughters and was in great repute among all people, on both sides of the Euphrates.
His sons made entertainments for each other; and when they had gone through the circle of their days of feasting, Job sent to them, purified them, and offered burn-offerings for each one in order that God might pardon any faults unintentionally committed against him during such festivities. He was wholly averse from injustice, idolatry, fraud, and adultery. He avoided evil thoughts, and dangerous looks, was compassionate to the poor, a father to the orphan, a protector to the widow, a guide to the blind, and a supporter to the lame.
God permitted Satan to put the virtue of Job to the test. At first by giving him power over his property, but forbidding him to touch his person. Satan began with taking away his oxen: a company of Sabeans slew his husbandmen and drove off all the beasts; one servant only escaping to bring the news. While he was reporting this misfortune, a second came, and informed Job that fire from heaven had consumed his sheep, and those who kept them; and that he alone had escaped. A third messenger arrived, who said "The Chaldeans have carried away the camels, have killed all your servants, and I only am escaped."He had scarcely concluded, when another came, and said, "While your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking in their eldest brother's house, an impetuous wind suddenly overthrew it, and they were all crushed to death under the ruins; I alone am escaped to bring you this news."
Job rented his clothes and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground saying, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb and naked shall I return there. The Lord gave and the Lord had taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."As Job endured these calamities without repining against Providence, satan solicited permission to afflict his person, and the Lord said, "Behold he is in your hand, but don’t touch his life." Satan, therefore, smote him with a dreadful disease, probably leprosy, and Job, seated in ashes, scraped off the corruption with a potsherd. His wife incited him to "curse God, and die" but Job answered "Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?"
In meantime, three of his friends, having been informed of his misfortunes, came to visit him - Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. A fourth was Elihu the Buzite, who from chapter 32 bears a distinguished part in the dialogue. It is also interesting to note that others also may have been listening to the dialogue of Job and his three friends.
They continued seven days sitting on the ground by him, without speaking, but at last Job broke silence, and complained of his misery. His friends, not distinguishing between the evils with which God tries those whom he loves and the afflictions with which he punishes the wicked, accused him of having indulged some secret impiety, and urged him to return to God by repentance and humbly to submit to his justice, since he suffered only according to his demerits.
Job, convinced of his own innocence, maintained that his sufferings were greater than his faults and that God sometimes afflicted the righteous only to try them, to give them an opportunity of manifesting or of improving their pious dispositions, or because it was his pleasure, for reasons unknown to mankind."
The above synopsis pretty much summed up how I felt when part of our building facade came crashing down to the pavement last Thursday.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
There Goes The Neighborhood---A Primer
The last time my sister visited, she looked quizzically out my back window.
When I asked her what caught her eye, she replied that she didn’t know that I had white neighbors. I told her that I have a number of white neighbors.
Talk about shock and awe.
Ladies and gentlemen, cats and kittens everything old is new again on the south side. White folks are coming back to Woodlawn.
Some people don’t realize that a vast majority of Chicago’s south side---Woodlawn, South Shore, Roseland and other neighborhoods used to be what historians like to term as working white ethnic neighborhoods.
You see race and housing have been and still are a touchy subject in Chicago.
The advent of housing discrimination laws, an expanding black population from the south, unscrupulous land lords along with block busting realtors; neighborhoods “flipped” in a very short time.
Then of course some people’s irrational fear of integrated living usually gets the better of them.
Nonetheless, our little hamlet experienced those changes and boy did the ‘hood real take a pounding.
Property values plummeted and stores left.
Crappy landlords split up beautiful graystones and majestic homes into rooming houses. They crammed everyone in the same small space together and then chose not to maintain the property.
Charging scandalous rents to those who could least afford them for such shitty living conditions.
Frankly Woodlawn was a mess.
While the neighborhood isn’t out of the woods yet, the eastern part of Woodlawn that borders Jackson Park has pulled itself out of the tailspin and has showed all of the signs of making a comeback.
First off, you literally don’t have to fear for your life like you did back in the day.
Baby Skid Row and it’s accompaniment of seedy lounges and prostitutes is gone. Some of the green line that ran over Baby Skid Row was demolished
Gentlemen who are alumni of the school across the street tell me stories of how they were accosted to and from school by people throwing debris out of the windows.
Those same gentlemen also tell me of how a large gang literally ruled the neighborhood.
Most of these stories or actions either predated my birth and/or my moving to the south side. While I wasn’t witness to these events, research and listening to many similar stories leaves me to believe that everything I’ve heard is pretty accurate.
But enough of the history lesson…
It was only a matter of time before north side real estate sticker shock reintroduced white people to the south side.
I’m not saying that my neighborhood is about the “flip” again but the influx of new neighbors that happen to be white isn’t about to stop anytime soon.
While I don’t have any hard numbers I can say that out of eight condo conversions or new buildings, it seems like 60-70% of those units were purchased by my new white neighbors.
I should have known something was up when Jettas started outnumbering hoopties.
When I asked her what caught her eye, she replied that she didn’t know that I had white neighbors. I told her that I have a number of white neighbors.
Talk about shock and awe.
Ladies and gentlemen, cats and kittens everything old is new again on the south side. White folks are coming back to Woodlawn.
Some people don’t realize that a vast majority of Chicago’s south side---Woodlawn, South Shore, Roseland and other neighborhoods used to be what historians like to term as working white ethnic neighborhoods.
You see race and housing have been and still are a touchy subject in Chicago.
The advent of housing discrimination laws, an expanding black population from the south, unscrupulous land lords along with block busting realtors; neighborhoods “flipped” in a very short time.
Then of course some people’s irrational fear of integrated living usually gets the better of them.
Nonetheless, our little hamlet experienced those changes and boy did the ‘hood real take a pounding.
Property values plummeted and stores left.
Crappy landlords split up beautiful graystones and majestic homes into rooming houses. They crammed everyone in the same small space together and then chose not to maintain the property.
Charging scandalous rents to those who could least afford them for such shitty living conditions.
Frankly Woodlawn was a mess.
While the neighborhood isn’t out of the woods yet, the eastern part of Woodlawn that borders Jackson Park has pulled itself out of the tailspin and has showed all of the signs of making a comeback.
First off, you literally don’t have to fear for your life like you did back in the day.
Baby Skid Row and it’s accompaniment of seedy lounges and prostitutes is gone. Some of the green line that ran over Baby Skid Row was demolished
Gentlemen who are alumni of the school across the street tell me stories of how they were accosted to and from school by people throwing debris out of the windows.
Those same gentlemen also tell me of how a large gang literally ruled the neighborhood.
Most of these stories or actions either predated my birth and/or my moving to the south side. While I wasn’t witness to these events, research and listening to many similar stories leaves me to believe that everything I’ve heard is pretty accurate.
But enough of the history lesson…
It was only a matter of time before north side real estate sticker shock reintroduced white people to the south side.
I’m not saying that my neighborhood is about the “flip” again but the influx of new neighbors that happen to be white isn’t about to stop anytime soon.
While I don’t have any hard numbers I can say that out of eight condo conversions or new buildings, it seems like 60-70% of those units were purchased by my new white neighbors.
I should have known something was up when Jettas started outnumbering hoopties.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Tasty and Delicious
Yet more love rolls in from the Chicago bloggin community as this humble offering was cited as one of Tastypopsicle's 10 most recent delicious links.
As if that weren't exiciting enough there is a link on the site to pictures of a floppy eared rabbit named Mayor McCheese
Now if the Cubs could get on a hot streak, life would be great.
As if that weren't exiciting enough there is a link on the site to pictures of a floppy eared rabbit named Mayor McCheese
Now if the Cubs could get on a hot streak, life would be great.
Bloglet Drama
Apparently new posts aren't coming through when I post for those of you who have Bloglet subscriptions. I've just become aware of this issue and will work quickly to resolve the situation. I'll keep you folks posted.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Coincidence
You see my friends; my developer had greater plans in mind than just developing our building.
He also went ahead and developed an abandoned six flat down the block.
I can’t speak to the quality of work or the astuteness of the association.
What I can tell you is that a little over three years after its renovation & sale all six units have been foreclosed upon. The yard and the parkway are a weed choked mess and the lights in the hallways and foyers aren’t working.
Then of course, all of the light bulbs could have blown at the same time.
The association and the building didn’t stand a chance for survival as four out of the six units we owned by Ryan Hudson and Jamael Sanford.
Those names sound familiar?
Those are two of the four deadbeats who owned in our association. If their track record with us severs as any indication, it would stand to reason that the assessments weren’t getting paid at the six flat down the street as well.
As a matter of fact, the new owners didn’t even have the presence of mind to get their tax bills taken out of the name of the original trust that they bought the units from. So all of the tax bills were being mailed to the incorrect address---brilliant, huh?
Seeing that the building was a vacant wreck prior to it’s development and that it will further deteriorate into a vacant wreck now that all six units have been foreclosed upon, smart money says that for all of the “development” that happened it should have been left alone.
Despite the fact it’s a smidge easier on the eye, the circumstances of both the building and neighborhood are still the same.
The only thing that happened is that my developer and a whole bunch of “investors” got paid.
My developer got paid when the units sold; the investors more than likely got paid courtesy of CHAC and the housing voucher program as I suspect that the building was 100% rentals.
Then of course I could be wrong.
The only thing the neighborhood got was an eyesore and more foreclosure stats to add to our zip code.
Do you know how difficult it will be to attract good quality neighbors in a high foreclosure zip code? No matter how much you like the neighborhood, if a bank won’t loan to you because of the foreclosure numbers you have no other choice but to look elsewhere.
Without solid demographics, retailers won’t relocate stores to the area.
Without stores, yours truly has to continue to schlep 22 blocks south and 19 blocks west on public transportation for groceries.
I think that’s roughly about five miles for food and personal care items.
Did I happen to mention that I don’t have a car? It’s either lefty and righty, the CTA or sympathetic friends who provide the bulk of my transportation.
I’ve become a wiz on what you can put in a backpack or wheeled shopping cart.
What I have to do to have a garden each year no person should have to go through.
Nonetheless I’m sure you get my point.
That’s why I was so upset when I heard that my developer was taking on another project in the neighborhood.
While I fully realize that he cannot be held responsible for the actions of the unit owners once he sells his inventory, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Ryan Hudson and Jamael Sanford wound up owning down the street in another building rehabbed by my developer.
Then of course, fate does work in mysterious ways.
Anything’s possible.
He also went ahead and developed an abandoned six flat down the block.
I can’t speak to the quality of work or the astuteness of the association.
What I can tell you is that a little over three years after its renovation & sale all six units have been foreclosed upon. The yard and the parkway are a weed choked mess and the lights in the hallways and foyers aren’t working.
Then of course, all of the light bulbs could have blown at the same time.
The association and the building didn’t stand a chance for survival as four out of the six units we owned by Ryan Hudson and Jamael Sanford.
Those names sound familiar?
Those are two of the four deadbeats who owned in our association. If their track record with us severs as any indication, it would stand to reason that the assessments weren’t getting paid at the six flat down the street as well.
As a matter of fact, the new owners didn’t even have the presence of mind to get their tax bills taken out of the name of the original trust that they bought the units from. So all of the tax bills were being mailed to the incorrect address---brilliant, huh?
Seeing that the building was a vacant wreck prior to it’s development and that it will further deteriorate into a vacant wreck now that all six units have been foreclosed upon, smart money says that for all of the “development” that happened it should have been left alone.
Despite the fact it’s a smidge easier on the eye, the circumstances of both the building and neighborhood are still the same.
The only thing that happened is that my developer and a whole bunch of “investors” got paid.
My developer got paid when the units sold; the investors more than likely got paid courtesy of CHAC and the housing voucher program as I suspect that the building was 100% rentals.
Then of course I could be wrong.
The only thing the neighborhood got was an eyesore and more foreclosure stats to add to our zip code.
Do you know how difficult it will be to attract good quality neighbors in a high foreclosure zip code? No matter how much you like the neighborhood, if a bank won’t loan to you because of the foreclosure numbers you have no other choice but to look elsewhere.
Without solid demographics, retailers won’t relocate stores to the area.
Without stores, yours truly has to continue to schlep 22 blocks south and 19 blocks west on public transportation for groceries.
I think that’s roughly about five miles for food and personal care items.
Did I happen to mention that I don’t have a car? It’s either lefty and righty, the CTA or sympathetic friends who provide the bulk of my transportation.
I’ve become a wiz on what you can put in a backpack or wheeled shopping cart.
What I have to do to have a garden each year no person should have to go through.
Nonetheless I’m sure you get my point.
That’s why I was so upset when I heard that my developer was taking on another project in the neighborhood.
While I fully realize that he cannot be held responsible for the actions of the unit owners once he sells his inventory, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Ryan Hudson and Jamael Sanford wound up owning down the street in another building rehabbed by my developer.
Then of course, fate does work in mysterious ways.
Anything’s possible.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Kerplunk
Have you ever just had that feeling that the other shoe is about to drop? That all of your best laid plans will go awry? Hold on to your hats kids, because I have a sneaking suspicion that eight months of hard work is about to be blown out of the water.
I pray that I'm wrong.
I pray that I'm wrong.
Falling On My Sword
Outright lying was the last fucking straw.
Our current treasurer sending a second fraudulent and misleading invoice to the mortgage company unit owners was wrong. More importantly it’s against the Illinois Condominium Act.
I could not sanction lying and what amounted to stealing by my presence on the board. I chucked the whole kit and caboodle and wished them well.
We have come a long way in a short period of time. To engage in this bullshit reeked of our developer.
Now I can stomach a lot of things but I was in not was ready to sell my soul on this one.
There are certain things that shouldn’t ever be done. Number one is share a toothbrush with someone, number two is certain “private acts” should remain private and not be transferred to any recordable medium and number three is you shouldn’t lie and cheat your neighbors.
Make sure you write those down as those are pearls of wisdom I’m giving away for free.
I know all three happen (*shudder*) but they shouldn’t.
Especially the third.
Then of course let’s set aside the legality and morality of this tawdry little tale. I’m ignoring what I believe to be an important part of the story.
Me.
I can be a ball breaking, self righteous, judgmental pain in the ass. On the other hand I can be overly generous (to a fault), compassionate and loyal---whether it be to a person or a cause.
Let’s put it out there. Self realization is important.
Nonetheless, I would ask no less of anyone that I would demand of myself.
If you’ve been reading this blog, you know about the exploits of the past year and a half and how I’ve played a part in this whole little melodrama.
Let me correct myself and shed my modesty by revealing my large part in turning this ship around.
To date my suggestions and recommendations have saved or netted the association over $15,000 in line item costs, project costs & “found money” from the city.
Let’s count the ways, shall we?
2003 & 2004 Refuse Rebates from the city totaling approximately $2,700.00 of found money---I researched and applied for the program.
The $3,500 & $2,500 dollars in savings in 2005 and 2006 by doing our own yard work and maintenance---my idea. I developed the first maintenance schedules from May 2005 until the end of that year.
Who found a costly $3,300 overcharge on the porch contract? Yours truly.
Who had the bright idea to leverage a look at other insurance agencies into a $3,000 savings on our annual premiums? D’oh! It looks like it was Woody to the rescue again.
Despite that fact that I’m a human being who falls short of God’s grace, I can---if given half a chance---make a discernable difference.
I wonder how I can sneak all of this in on my resume?
Let’s not even talk about who found the reliable porch contractor whose bid came in a full $20,000 under the competition or who found the financing for the porch project in the first place.
Guilty as charged.
Believe it or not, I managed to do this with a (somewhat) active social life AND two jobs. Most of these little tasks were done over numerous lunch hours.
Who says sixty minutes can’t make a difference?
I’m in it to win it folks. This is my home.
So when I point out mistakes or inconsistencies, it’s never about me lording over someone, it’s about what’s legal and what’s right.
The current language of the Illinois Condominium Property Act clearly states that when a unit is bought out of foreclosure, the new owner is not liable for any old debts or prior special assessments.
It’s pretty freaking clear on that point.
So despite my many e-mails and verbal explanations, our treasurer still went ahead and charged the mortgage company unit owners for debts that they didn’t legally owe.
What makes it even worse is that we have a judgment against the person who is legally responsible for that debt.
In effect, we’re double dipping. We’re charging two different people for the same thing.
That’s like selling a cold bottle of beer to two different people.
What a crock of shit.
That type of slimy, duplicitous behavior is disgusting.
And to further add insult to injury, I get the not so subtle rebuke about the definition of board duties.
Excuse me?
I didn’t hear anything about board duties when I was doing the grunt work researching and contacting the mortgage companies to find out where we should be sending the invoice.
After all, that should have been the treasurer’s job, right?
I didn’t hear anything about board duties when I caught the $3,300 overage on the porch contract.
We all should have been going over it with a fine tooth comb, right?
So it strikes me as odd that chests want to get poked out about who is doing what in the association.
You want my help and dedication when it’s beneficial but shun it at will?
Screw that. I hit the door.
Let’s see if this dog can hunt without its sense of smell.
Our current treasurer sending a second fraudulent and misleading invoice to the mortgage company unit owners was wrong. More importantly it’s against the Illinois Condominium Act.
I could not sanction lying and what amounted to stealing by my presence on the board. I chucked the whole kit and caboodle and wished them well.
We have come a long way in a short period of time. To engage in this bullshit reeked of our developer.
Now I can stomach a lot of things but I was in not was ready to sell my soul on this one.
There are certain things that shouldn’t ever be done. Number one is share a toothbrush with someone, number two is certain “private acts” should remain private and not be transferred to any recordable medium and number three is you shouldn’t lie and cheat your neighbors.
Make sure you write those down as those are pearls of wisdom I’m giving away for free.
I know all three happen (*shudder*) but they shouldn’t.
Especially the third.
Then of course let’s set aside the legality and morality of this tawdry little tale. I’m ignoring what I believe to be an important part of the story.
Me.
I can be a ball breaking, self righteous, judgmental pain in the ass. On the other hand I can be overly generous (to a fault), compassionate and loyal---whether it be to a person or a cause.
Let’s put it out there. Self realization is important.
Nonetheless, I would ask no less of anyone that I would demand of myself.
If you’ve been reading this blog, you know about the exploits of the past year and a half and how I’ve played a part in this whole little melodrama.
Let me correct myself and shed my modesty by revealing my large part in turning this ship around.
To date my suggestions and recommendations have saved or netted the association over $15,000 in line item costs, project costs & “found money” from the city.
Let’s count the ways, shall we?
2003 & 2004 Refuse Rebates from the city totaling approximately $2,700.00 of found money---I researched and applied for the program.
The $3,500 & $2,500 dollars in savings in 2005 and 2006 by doing our own yard work and maintenance---my idea. I developed the first maintenance schedules from May 2005 until the end of that year.
Who found a costly $3,300 overcharge on the porch contract? Yours truly.
Who had the bright idea to leverage a look at other insurance agencies into a $3,000 savings on our annual premiums? D’oh! It looks like it was Woody to the rescue again.
Despite that fact that I’m a human being who falls short of God’s grace, I can---if given half a chance---make a discernable difference.
I wonder how I can sneak all of this in on my resume?
Let’s not even talk about who found the reliable porch contractor whose bid came in a full $20,000 under the competition or who found the financing for the porch project in the first place.
Guilty as charged.
Believe it or not, I managed to do this with a (somewhat) active social life AND two jobs. Most of these little tasks were done over numerous lunch hours.
Who says sixty minutes can’t make a difference?
I’m in it to win it folks. This is my home.
So when I point out mistakes or inconsistencies, it’s never about me lording over someone, it’s about what’s legal and what’s right.
The current language of the Illinois Condominium Property Act clearly states that when a unit is bought out of foreclosure, the new owner is not liable for any old debts or prior special assessments.
It’s pretty freaking clear on that point.
So despite my many e-mails and verbal explanations, our treasurer still went ahead and charged the mortgage company unit owners for debts that they didn’t legally owe.
What makes it even worse is that we have a judgment against the person who is legally responsible for that debt.
In effect, we’re double dipping. We’re charging two different people for the same thing.
That’s like selling a cold bottle of beer to two different people.
What a crock of shit.
That type of slimy, duplicitous behavior is disgusting.
And to further add insult to injury, I get the not so subtle rebuke about the definition of board duties.
Excuse me?
I didn’t hear anything about board duties when I was doing the grunt work researching and contacting the mortgage companies to find out where we should be sending the invoice.
After all, that should have been the treasurer’s job, right?
I didn’t hear anything about board duties when I caught the $3,300 overage on the porch contract.
We all should have been going over it with a fine tooth comb, right?
So it strikes me as odd that chests want to get poked out about who is doing what in the association.
You want my help and dedication when it’s beneficial but shun it at will?
Screw that. I hit the door.
Let’s see if this dog can hunt without its sense of smell.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Resignation Letter
Below is a copy of the regisnation letter that I sent to the board of our association earlier today. I will fill in the back story in a future post.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Through extensive conversations and e-mails, I've repeatedly suggested how the mortgage company owners should be invoiced.
I may be proven wrong, but it has been my experience that honesty, fair dealing and adhering to the statutes of the condominium act have worked. Moreover, the mortgage companies will pay their fair share but it must be clearly and concisely spelled out on an invoice.
While the invoice below is a good tool to track the history of debt for that unit, I feel that the sentiment of either hoping that the mortgage company will pay the almost $4,000 or that they will figure out their correct amount to be duplicitous and misleading.
We are knowingly engaging in misrepresentation at the least or fraud at the worst.
I strongly feel that we are setting ourselves up for a potential lawsuit as the board is not acting in the best interests of the association. We are not justly levying the proportioned assessed amount upon this particular unit and hoping that they simply don't know the law or catch the mistake.
As a board it was always my impression that we were to champion the association. As we continue to dig ourselves out of our financial mess, the consistent influx of assessments should continue to be a top priority. At this point I can only question if that issue is a priority as I believe that those invoices will largely go ignored.
More than likely, this issue will still be discussed at future meetings all because the correct steps have not, or will not, be taken.
Trying to pull one over on your neighbors---residents or not---is tantamount to something Carlton Knight would try and I find it appalling.
The law has been cited, the situation has been explained ad nauseam and I even redid the invoices to show the correct amounts. Apparently all of this has fallen on deaf ears. It saddens me that in an attempt to right our ship we have to even give the appearance that we're plundering others.
It is with a considerable amount of thought and consideration that effective immediately, I resign my membership from the Board of Directors of the XXXX Condominium Association.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Through extensive conversations and e-mails, I've repeatedly suggested how the mortgage company owners should be invoiced.
I may be proven wrong, but it has been my experience that honesty, fair dealing and adhering to the statutes of the condominium act have worked. Moreover, the mortgage companies will pay their fair share but it must be clearly and concisely spelled out on an invoice.
While the invoice below is a good tool to track the history of debt for that unit, I feel that the sentiment of either hoping that the mortgage company will pay the almost $4,000 or that they will figure out their correct amount to be duplicitous and misleading.
We are knowingly engaging in misrepresentation at the least or fraud at the worst.
I strongly feel that we are setting ourselves up for a potential lawsuit as the board is not acting in the best interests of the association. We are not justly levying the proportioned assessed amount upon this particular unit and hoping that they simply don't know the law or catch the mistake.
As a board it was always my impression that we were to champion the association. As we continue to dig ourselves out of our financial mess, the consistent influx of assessments should continue to be a top priority. At this point I can only question if that issue is a priority as I believe that those invoices will largely go ignored.
More than likely, this issue will still be discussed at future meetings all because the correct steps have not, or will not, be taken.
Trying to pull one over on your neighbors---residents or not---is tantamount to something Carlton Knight would try and I find it appalling.
The law has been cited, the situation has been explained ad nauseam and I even redid the invoices to show the correct amounts. Apparently all of this has fallen on deaf ears. It saddens me that in an attempt to right our ship we have to even give the appearance that we're plundering others.
It is with a considerable amount of thought and consideration that effective immediately, I resign my membership from the Board of Directors of the XXXX Condominium Association.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Insult, Injury
Nothing my developer does should surprise me anymore.
The crappy renovation; having my intelligence insulted; sitting in an administrative hearing and having my intelligence insulted; having the association saddled with a fine that was not of our doing---at this point, I thought I had seen it all from this joker.
I found out last week that my heartless, amoral, shifty developer is developing a piece of property that I can literally see from my kitchen window.
I almost lost my shit when I heard the news.
We have worked so hard just to get back to a level playing field after we discovered the shambles we were left with.
Last year was the start of our rebuilding and let me tell you it hasn’t been all shits and giggles down here on the south side.
You may be a little surprised to hear this but it’s somewhat tough to get the love south of Madison Street.
While not a native Chicagoan, I did go to college in the north suburbs and spent the first six of my eleven residential years living on the north side. I never quite understood the north side vs. south side thing.
It soon became apparent when my zip code changed to 60637 that the south side thing was going to figure prominently into my everyday life.
Apparently your I.Q. points drop and your propensity for criminal behavior go up once you move down here.
My friends beseeched me not to go---that I’d be killed, that no one would come to visit---Hell Woody, why would you move down there? You don’t know anyone?
Jesus, I would have gotten less flak for going into the Peace Corp.
But I did it, I made the break and moved into what I thought was my perfect little place.
The discovery of our problems made me resolute. Clichés fell like pearls from my mouth: Tough times don’t last, tough people do. If we all work as a team we can make this happen.
Blah, blah, blah.
Then reality set in ladies and gentlemen. I was a little taken aback to find out that service people won’t come to give us estimates or return phone inquires because of the perception of our neighborhood.
The ones who would give us an estimate tried to jack us so bad that we should have taken that bullshit to the police and had them brought up on charges.
It took us six months to find The Porch People. We should have had contractors lining up to do the job.
Forget about getting a loan from a downtown bank for the work we needed done. It wasn’t going to happen.
We didn’t look good on paper and besides when the address was given during the initial discussion, those phone calls also happened to not get returned either.
The future was not looking bright.
A lot of hard work, frequent calls to my Alderman, the help of a friend who knows trades people and Shore Bank saved our asses.
Making people tow the line when it came to assessments, a special assessment and a couple of liens didn’t hurt either.
We had approximately $1,000-$1,400 in the bank at the beginning of 2005. We have increased that amount to over $28,000 in less than a year.
So much diligence has gone into getting us fiscally healthy; could there be any surprise that I got upset that the developer was still around.
The man that I believe is responsible for a majority of our problems is still being allowed to profit at the expense of our neighborhood.
You see my friends; his involvement in Woodlawn didn’t end when he developed our homes.
He had his sights set on yet another prize.
The crappy renovation; having my intelligence insulted; sitting in an administrative hearing and having my intelligence insulted; having the association saddled with a fine that was not of our doing---at this point, I thought I had seen it all from this joker.
I found out last week that my heartless, amoral, shifty developer is developing a piece of property that I can literally see from my kitchen window.
I almost lost my shit when I heard the news.
We have worked so hard just to get back to a level playing field after we discovered the shambles we were left with.
Last year was the start of our rebuilding and let me tell you it hasn’t been all shits and giggles down here on the south side.
You may be a little surprised to hear this but it’s somewhat tough to get the love south of Madison Street.
While not a native Chicagoan, I did go to college in the north suburbs and spent the first six of my eleven residential years living on the north side. I never quite understood the north side vs. south side thing.
It soon became apparent when my zip code changed to 60637 that the south side thing was going to figure prominently into my everyday life.
Apparently your I.Q. points drop and your propensity for criminal behavior go up once you move down here.
My friends beseeched me not to go---that I’d be killed, that no one would come to visit---Hell Woody, why would you move down there? You don’t know anyone?
Jesus, I would have gotten less flak for going into the Peace Corp.
But I did it, I made the break and moved into what I thought was my perfect little place.
The discovery of our problems made me resolute. Clichés fell like pearls from my mouth: Tough times don’t last, tough people do. If we all work as a team we can make this happen.
Blah, blah, blah.
Then reality set in ladies and gentlemen. I was a little taken aback to find out that service people won’t come to give us estimates or return phone inquires because of the perception of our neighborhood.
The ones who would give us an estimate tried to jack us so bad that we should have taken that bullshit to the police and had them brought up on charges.
It took us six months to find The Porch People. We should have had contractors lining up to do the job.
Forget about getting a loan from a downtown bank for the work we needed done. It wasn’t going to happen.
We didn’t look good on paper and besides when the address was given during the initial discussion, those phone calls also happened to not get returned either.
The future was not looking bright.
A lot of hard work, frequent calls to my Alderman, the help of a friend who knows trades people and Shore Bank saved our asses.
Making people tow the line when it came to assessments, a special assessment and a couple of liens didn’t hurt either.
We had approximately $1,000-$1,400 in the bank at the beginning of 2005. We have increased that amount to over $28,000 in less than a year.
So much diligence has gone into getting us fiscally healthy; could there be any surprise that I got upset that the developer was still around.
The man that I believe is responsible for a majority of our problems is still being allowed to profit at the expense of our neighborhood.
You see my friends; his involvement in Woodlawn didn’t end when he developed our homes.
He had his sights set on yet another prize.
Mr. Jackson Continues
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Cinnamon Says...
I wrote a thank you note to Cinnamon from Gaper's Block for the unexpected write up on Friday (4/28). This was her reply:
You're welcome and your writing is news-worthy. I haven't read every post but I came a cross your blog when looking for information about how to handle deadbeat developers. A couple of friends were the first ones to buy a condo in a courtyard development and have had nothing but problems. I thought a few quick searches might find some articles or links where they could get more information about how to handle their situation and your site was at the top of the list. I passed it on to them and realized that there are likely to be many people with similar issues. The real estate market seems to be given safe distance from local journalists and I don't think the industry deserves it.
At our last condo we found out three years* in that the "new plumbing" that had been installed was not installed per city code even though a city inspector approved the installation and it was causing recurring problems when it would rain.
Keep writing, keep exposing, and good luck getting resolution in Woodlawn.
*One correction---the plumbing problem was discovered after 1 1/2 years after buying, not three.
With encouragement like this how can the quest stop now? Bob Goulet in full effect, yo!
If you haven't noticed, Gaper's Block has now been added to the list of Chicago links on the left hand side of the blog.
You're welcome and your writing is news-worthy. I haven't read every post but I came a cross your blog when looking for information about how to handle deadbeat developers. A couple of friends were the first ones to buy a condo in a courtyard development and have had nothing but problems. I thought a few quick searches might find some articles or links where they could get more information about how to handle their situation and your site was at the top of the list. I passed it on to them and realized that there are likely to be many people with similar issues. The real estate market seems to be given safe distance from local journalists and I don't think the industry deserves it.
At our last condo we found out three years* in that the "new plumbing" that had been installed was not installed per city code even though a city inspector approved the installation and it was causing recurring problems when it would rain.
Keep writing, keep exposing, and good luck getting resolution in Woodlawn.
*One correction---the plumbing problem was discovered after 1 1/2 years after buying, not three.
With encouragement like this how can the quest stop now? Bob Goulet in full effect, yo!
If you haven't noticed, Gaper's Block has now been added to the list of Chicago links on the left hand side of the blog.
Chickens Coming Home to Roost
D-Day for one of our former owners is coming on Thursday
That’s the day he has the creditor’s meeting for his bankruptcy. He’s trying to beat us out of the money that he owes.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Last year the realization of our financial state was dawning on us and we knew that we had to go after some of the money that was owed to the association. It was simply too much cash to let go without a fight.
Some of the foreclosures had already gone through but despite those facts, it still didn’t erase the back assessments owed by the former owners.
Our test case, so to speak, would be one of the two owners that had yet to be foreclosed upon at the time.
His name is Maurice Cousin.
We filed a civil lawsuit against Mr. Cousin and received a judgment for $6,417.50.
What makes this particular case among the deadbeats stand out is that Mr. Cousin not only gave us the middle finger financially but the fact that he just did us so foul bears repeating.
A person being in financial trouble is not a new story to anyone. Hell, I’ve been through a few scrapes myself; nonetheless the higher issue is that you eventually pull yourself out of the hole that you dug.
I had to do it---words cannot describe how much it sucked.
It’s still a challenge to stay one step ahead of the bills but like everything in life you make a choice.
Admitting mistakes and poor decisions and then rectifying those mistakes is a part of life.
If I had to do it, why shouldn’t our errant owners “man up” and do the same?
Not Mr. Cousin.
Not only did he attempt to sell his condo prior to the foreclosure sale being final (we had a lien against the property), but when he couldn’t sell it he rented it out to some “friends.”
Kind readers, you wouldn’t want “friends” like this going in and out of your home---trust me.
No one can say for sure exactly what was going on in the unit or who actually signed the “lease” but there did seem to be a great deal of comings and goings at night and when a majority of us were at work.
I know, I know---it raised our eyebrows as well.
When the foreclosure became final and the new mortgage company owners gained access the to the unit there was an unmade mattress and box spring in the living room.
A few condom wrappers were strewn about.
As I stated, no one can say for sure what exactly had been going on in the unit but my neighbor and I viewed the contents of the living room and just shook our heads.
For the record, the bedrooms---where the bed should have been---were empty except for a few personal objects in the closet.
The dining room had a few things scattered about but no table or chairs. The kitchen had old bags of trash sitting by the back door.
The place needed a good cleaning.
How fucking gully is that? Even if you don’t like your neighbors how can you attempt to not only beat them out of cash but to “rent” out your unit.
His filing bankruptcy was only icing on the cake.
I knew that the sum of his behaviors would eventually equal that bitch ass move.
The part I find personally interesting is that a law firm is also suing him for $31,308.25. It makes the mind whirl, no?
That’s the day he has the creditor’s meeting for his bankruptcy. He’s trying to beat us out of the money that he owes.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Last year the realization of our financial state was dawning on us and we knew that we had to go after some of the money that was owed to the association. It was simply too much cash to let go without a fight.
Some of the foreclosures had already gone through but despite those facts, it still didn’t erase the back assessments owed by the former owners.
Our test case, so to speak, would be one of the two owners that had yet to be foreclosed upon at the time.
His name is Maurice Cousin.
We filed a civil lawsuit against Mr. Cousin and received a judgment for $6,417.50.
What makes this particular case among the deadbeats stand out is that Mr. Cousin not only gave us the middle finger financially but the fact that he just did us so foul bears repeating.
A person being in financial trouble is not a new story to anyone. Hell, I’ve been through a few scrapes myself; nonetheless the higher issue is that you eventually pull yourself out of the hole that you dug.
I had to do it---words cannot describe how much it sucked.
It’s still a challenge to stay one step ahead of the bills but like everything in life you make a choice.
Admitting mistakes and poor decisions and then rectifying those mistakes is a part of life.
If I had to do it, why shouldn’t our errant owners “man up” and do the same?
Not Mr. Cousin.
Not only did he attempt to sell his condo prior to the foreclosure sale being final (we had a lien against the property), but when he couldn’t sell it he rented it out to some “friends.”
Kind readers, you wouldn’t want “friends” like this going in and out of your home---trust me.
No one can say for sure exactly what was going on in the unit or who actually signed the “lease” but there did seem to be a great deal of comings and goings at night and when a majority of us were at work.
I know, I know---it raised our eyebrows as well.
When the foreclosure became final and the new mortgage company owners gained access the to the unit there was an unmade mattress and box spring in the living room.
A few condom wrappers were strewn about.
As I stated, no one can say for sure what exactly had been going on in the unit but my neighbor and I viewed the contents of the living room and just shook our heads.
For the record, the bedrooms---where the bed should have been---were empty except for a few personal objects in the closet.
The dining room had a few things scattered about but no table or chairs. The kitchen had old bags of trash sitting by the back door.
The place needed a good cleaning.
How fucking gully is that? Even if you don’t like your neighbors how can you attempt to not only beat them out of cash but to “rent” out your unit.
His filing bankruptcy was only icing on the cake.
I knew that the sum of his behaviors would eventually equal that bitch ass move.
The part I find personally interesting is that a law firm is also suing him for $31,308.25. It makes the mind whirl, no?
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Agape
Yesterday was pretty ho hum---a typical day at the corporate grindstone.
When I went into the blog to check for comments and to tweak my template I noticed a distinct jump in my counter numbers.
I was confused.
After checking my stats---you know I love watching you watch me---I discovered the reason why.
Cinnamon from Gapers Block has found my little labor of love worthy for their discriminating readership.
To say I was stunned would be an understatement.
I Hate My Developer was born mostly out of frustration and partly for my friend’s peace of mind.
People’s eyes started glazing over when I shared the latest injustice to befall our condo association. I figured that if people were so interested in what was going on with that particular slice of my life, they would logon and read.
No matter how much you like someone; there is a threshold for hearing about their problems.
Plus there are far more compelling things to discuss like the recently outed mobster Vito on The Sopranos.
I know it’s fiction and all but that kid is about to face a shit storm that makes our problems look like child’s play.
But I digress.
Welcome newbies. I hope that these posts can inform and make you a smarter consumer with respect to purchasing new construction or a rehab.
It’s also important to me to underscore the fact that you can make a difference against adversity. I know it sounds hokey and clichéd, but it’s true. Perseverance, patience and documentation are the key.
You don’t have to play the bitch unless you want to.
When I went into the blog to check for comments and to tweak my template I noticed a distinct jump in my counter numbers.
I was confused.
After checking my stats---you know I love watching you watch me---I discovered the reason why.
Cinnamon from Gapers Block has found my little labor of love worthy for their discriminating readership.
To say I was stunned would be an understatement.
I Hate My Developer was born mostly out of frustration and partly for my friend’s peace of mind.
People’s eyes started glazing over when I shared the latest injustice to befall our condo association. I figured that if people were so interested in what was going on with that particular slice of my life, they would logon and read.
No matter how much you like someone; there is a threshold for hearing about their problems.
Plus there are far more compelling things to discuss like the recently outed mobster Vito on The Sopranos.
I know it’s fiction and all but that kid is about to face a shit storm that makes our problems look like child’s play.
But I digress.
Welcome newbies. I hope that these posts can inform and make you a smarter consumer with respect to purchasing new construction or a rehab.
It’s also important to me to underscore the fact that you can make a difference against adversity. I know it sounds hokey and clichéd, but it’s true. Perseverance, patience and documentation are the key.
You don’t have to play the bitch unless you want to.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Grubby
Our grass has an STD.
The bane of suburbia has reared its ugly head on the south side. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have grubs.
I’m sure they emigrated over from someone else’s crappy lawn and now our little patch of heaven looks like a bag of ass.
It’s kind of like finding out that the neighborhood mut defiled your beautiful pure breed bitch.
The irony is that well tended and watered lawns are at a higher risk for grubs than one that isn’t watered as fastidiously.
Ain’t that a bitch?
The lawn has been raked out and we have some grub control granules but it’s not looking good. I’m hoping we can catch this in enough time so we don’t have to resod.
So for the record, it wasn’t the unfortunate fertilizer incident last fall that made the grass turn brown.
The bane of suburbia has reared its ugly head on the south side. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have grubs.
I’m sure they emigrated over from someone else’s crappy lawn and now our little patch of heaven looks like a bag of ass.
It’s kind of like finding out that the neighborhood mut defiled your beautiful pure breed bitch.
The irony is that well tended and watered lawns are at a higher risk for grubs than one that isn’t watered as fastidiously.
Ain’t that a bitch?
The lawn has been raked out and we have some grub control granules but it’s not looking good. I’m hoping we can catch this in enough time so we don’t have to resod.
So for the record, it wasn’t the unfortunate fertilizer incident last fall that made the grass turn brown.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Stop The Presses
Guess who got quoted in an article on condo buying/living in the upcoming June issue of Consumer's Digest?
Run to the newstand and pick one up.
Run to the newstand and pick one up.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Asking Questions Again
Through some hard work and a meal with the Mayor, I happened to reach the top of the food chain at CHAC.
Introductory phone calls were made and in a matter of hours I was talking to someone who actually had some pull.
It’s amazing how that works, huh?
Curiosity had set in about a few things and was hoping this individual could at least shed some procedural light on the whole CHAC process.
I wanted to know how a landlord could be in the foreclosure process and still manage to get paid for the same subsidized housing that is being foreclosed upon?
Now I have a pretty good idea that a landlord in the CHAC program can continue to get paid as long as he or she is the owner of record.
And if that’s the case, it’s time for the system to be overhauled. That loophole is so glaring it simply rolls out the red carpet for potential fraud and waste.
While there are procedures in place to check if property taxes are being paid, mortgages and assessments payments---not so much.
So to recap---CHAC basically gets swindled, condo associations left holding the bag for the back assessments or single family homes eventually go vacant and decent hard work families run the risk of getting evicted.
Quite a trifecta, no?
In light of this information I penned the following letter:
XXXX,
I have a few suggestions that should serve the best interest of tenants and associations with respect to CHAC rentals in condominiums. Hopefully these should be able to past legal muster and will require only policy and language changes.
As a part of the property certification process, the landlord would identify the building as a condominium.
He or she would also submit a copy of the condominium association's non profit good standing with the state. Such documentation can be easily obtained from the Secretary of State's website.
The applicant landlord would also sign-off on a form stating that he or she had read the declarations and bylaws of the association and will abide by all current and future adaptations of the document.
The applicant landlord would submit the names and contact information for all of officers of the condominium association which will later be verified by CHAC. The submitted information must match the information provided by the Secretary of State.
A clause should be inserted in stating that if the landlord falls 60 days behind in assessments to the condominium association or goes into foreclosure, their CHAC payments may be delayed and/or they may be suspended from the CHAC program.
My hope is to close the loopholes that allow irresponsible owners to financially devastate condominium associations as well as put the homes of your hard working clients at risk.
I welcome your feedback from my suggestions.
Introductory phone calls were made and in a matter of hours I was talking to someone who actually had some pull.
It’s amazing how that works, huh?
Curiosity had set in about a few things and was hoping this individual could at least shed some procedural light on the whole CHAC process.
I wanted to know how a landlord could be in the foreclosure process and still manage to get paid for the same subsidized housing that is being foreclosed upon?
Now I have a pretty good idea that a landlord in the CHAC program can continue to get paid as long as he or she is the owner of record.
And if that’s the case, it’s time for the system to be overhauled. That loophole is so glaring it simply rolls out the red carpet for potential fraud and waste.
While there are procedures in place to check if property taxes are being paid, mortgages and assessments payments---not so much.
So to recap---CHAC basically gets swindled, condo associations left holding the bag for the back assessments or single family homes eventually go vacant and decent hard work families run the risk of getting evicted.
Quite a trifecta, no?
In light of this information I penned the following letter:
XXXX,
I have a few suggestions that should serve the best interest of tenants and associations with respect to CHAC rentals in condominiums. Hopefully these should be able to past legal muster and will require only policy and language changes.
As a part of the property certification process, the landlord would identify the building as a condominium.
He or she would also submit a copy of the condominium association's non profit good standing with the state. Such documentation can be easily obtained from the Secretary of State's website.
The applicant landlord would also sign-off on a form stating that he or she had read the declarations and bylaws of the association and will abide by all current and future adaptations of the document.
The applicant landlord would submit the names and contact information for all of officers of the condominium association which will later be verified by CHAC. The submitted information must match the information provided by the Secretary of State.
A clause should be inserted in stating that if the landlord falls 60 days behind in assessments to the condominium association or goes into foreclosure, their CHAC payments may be delayed and/or they may be suspended from the CHAC program.
My hope is to close the loopholes that allow irresponsible owners to financially devastate condominium associations as well as put the homes of your hard working clients at risk.
I welcome your feedback from my suggestions.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Access
If you’ve been a faithful reader of I Hate My Developer you also know that I’m not a big fan of four of our former owners.
I refer to them as the deadbeats.
In the past I’ve talked about their slow assessment payments, non-assessment payments and foreclosures in great detail.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they know about and read this blog.
Like I care.
Their foreclosures (and now bankruptcies) are public record.
Moreover, all of them still owe us quite a bit of money. Their debt hasn’t gone away so neither will we. No amount of time or foreclosures will change that.
You would think that in order to let everyone move on they’d go ahead and find a way to contact us, ask how much they owe, cut a cashier’s check and call it a day.
Oh no, it simply can’t be that easy. Everybody wants to be a big baller, shot caller.
Fuck the condo association where you made money. It’s not their primary residences so why should they care?
These experiences got me wondering, “Why are irresponsible landlords in the CHAC program allowed to feed at the public trough at fellow taxpayer’s expense?"
The ultimate loser in this high stakes game of lord of the manor is the renter who, at least in our situations, doesn’t find out about the foreclosure until it’s too late.
Basically there is no allowance or consideration in the CHAC rules for landlords who don’t pay their association fees.
CHAC aggressively monitors the property owners in its program to make sure that they’re paying their county property taxes but not so much for foreclosures and non-payment of assessments.
What that could hypothetically mean is that you could be in foreclosure and behind in your assessments and unless someone reported this to CHAC, they would be none the wiser.
Naturally it wouldn’t take long before someone recognized this little discrepancy and started asking questions.
It was just simply a matter of time before those high enough up on the food chain heard those questions.
It boiled down to introductions and access.
I refer to them as the deadbeats.
In the past I’ve talked about their slow assessment payments, non-assessment payments and foreclosures in great detail.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they know about and read this blog.
Like I care.
Their foreclosures (and now bankruptcies) are public record.
Moreover, all of them still owe us quite a bit of money. Their debt hasn’t gone away so neither will we. No amount of time or foreclosures will change that.
You would think that in order to let everyone move on they’d go ahead and find a way to contact us, ask how much they owe, cut a cashier’s check and call it a day.
Oh no, it simply can’t be that easy. Everybody wants to be a big baller, shot caller.
Fuck the condo association where you made money. It’s not their primary residences so why should they care?
These experiences got me wondering, “Why are irresponsible landlords in the CHAC program allowed to feed at the public trough at fellow taxpayer’s expense?"
The ultimate loser in this high stakes game of lord of the manor is the renter who, at least in our situations, doesn’t find out about the foreclosure until it’s too late.
Basically there is no allowance or consideration in the CHAC rules for landlords who don’t pay their association fees.
CHAC aggressively monitors the property owners in its program to make sure that they’re paying their county property taxes but not so much for foreclosures and non-payment of assessments.
What that could hypothetically mean is that you could be in foreclosure and behind in your assessments and unless someone reported this to CHAC, they would be none the wiser.
Naturally it wouldn’t take long before someone recognized this little discrepancy and started asking questions.
It was just simply a matter of time before those high enough up on the food chain heard those questions.
It boiled down to introductions and access.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Unintended Consequences
I was in quite the foul mood today.
Association work had not been properly done, the lawn has a devastating grub problem, queries had not been answered and I found out that my evil developer is “renovating” another property that I can see from my kitchen window.
Pigeons, it was an Excedrin kind of day.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me recount the unintended consequences of that fateful breakfast meeting with the Mayor.
Believe it or not, a phone call came from one of the Mayor’s aides two days after the breakfast.
He was a nice enough man who patiently listened as I recounted the three most egregious issues (at least in my opinion) facing our association.
I mean, deadbeat former owners, third party defendants and crumbling porches is enough to start a conversation dontcha think?
Now that I think about it, I commend him for his fortitude.
Like the breakfast, I stayed focused and briefly recounted our issues. I followed that up with a binder full of supporting material two days later.
Working in close proximity to governmental officials does have a few perks. The pros are that it saves you ass loads of time checking things or running documents over to various departments.
The cons are that you may be target practice or mantra fodder for either homegrown crazies or the kind who seem to want to inflict large civilian casualties on our population.
Anyone who takes too many pictures of the Sears Tower gets the stink eye from this Chicagoan.
I can get gully if need be.
The binder was delivered and I gave the nice mayoral aide a few days to leaf through the raft of documents that I had just laid at his doorstep.
I decided it might be better if I took all of this on one issue at a time.
First on the list---CHAC policies relating to condominium associations.
Association work had not been properly done, the lawn has a devastating grub problem, queries had not been answered and I found out that my evil developer is “renovating” another property that I can see from my kitchen window.
Pigeons, it was an Excedrin kind of day.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me recount the unintended consequences of that fateful breakfast meeting with the Mayor.
Believe it or not, a phone call came from one of the Mayor’s aides two days after the breakfast.
He was a nice enough man who patiently listened as I recounted the three most egregious issues (at least in my opinion) facing our association.
I mean, deadbeat former owners, third party defendants and crumbling porches is enough to start a conversation dontcha think?
Now that I think about it, I commend him for his fortitude.
Like the breakfast, I stayed focused and briefly recounted our issues. I followed that up with a binder full of supporting material two days later.
Working in close proximity to governmental officials does have a few perks. The pros are that it saves you ass loads of time checking things or running documents over to various departments.
The cons are that you may be target practice or mantra fodder for either homegrown crazies or the kind who seem to want to inflict large civilian casualties on our population.
Anyone who takes too many pictures of the Sears Tower gets the stink eye from this Chicagoan.
I can get gully if need be.
The binder was delivered and I gave the nice mayoral aide a few days to leaf through the raft of documents that I had just laid at his doorstep.
I decided it might be better if I took all of this on one issue at a time.
First on the list---CHAC policies relating to condominium associations.
The Fine Print
You'll start to notice little things popping up in the sidebar that I'm putting in the blog to inform and make your lives easier.
Late last week I put in the bloglet subscription service. Bloglet allows you to sign up to have the hottest, freshest posts from I Hate My Developer sent directly to your e-mail.
That way if you miss a few posts and I'm in the middle of a writing frenzy, you'll be able to read what you missed without having to access the archives.
See how I'm always thinking of you kids? Feel the love.
The other slight change will be the posting of the copyright notice as soon as I figure out how to insert the text.
It's not that this applies to 99.9% of you or that I think that highly of my blog but it never hurts to have things all properly tucked away and legal.
You know what I mean?
Now back to the continuing circus that is my condominium association.
Late last week I put in the bloglet subscription service. Bloglet allows you to sign up to have the hottest, freshest posts from I Hate My Developer sent directly to your e-mail.
That way if you miss a few posts and I'm in the middle of a writing frenzy, you'll be able to read what you missed without having to access the archives.
See how I'm always thinking of you kids? Feel the love.
The other slight change will be the posting of the copyright notice as soon as I figure out how to insert the text.
It's not that this applies to 99.9% of you or that I think that highly of my blog but it never hurts to have things all properly tucked away and legal.
You know what I mean?
Now back to the continuing circus that is my condominium association.
Mr. Munch
Note: The above picture is an accurate portrayal of what I want to do at this exact moment. I have many true tales to tell. Stay tuned for the posts.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Meatloaf Beat Down
I always thought pretty highly of my meatloaf skills.
It’s moist and flavorful. It holds its shape. I’d never ever had nothing but raves about my meatloaf.
That is until the ultimate meatloaf death match championship of 2006.
A meatloaf cook off was held to determine whose meatloaf would be served at this year's incarnation of my almost annual Soul Food Brunch.
My meatloaf got its ass soundly kicked.
My meatloaf became the bitch to the much more flavorful meatloaf of my friend.
Jealously and envy set in quickly.
I don’t so much mind losing---in my book losing equals learning. What chapped my hide is that I knew I lost when I took a bite of his creation when we were plating the food for our taste testers.
Defeat never tasted so good.
It’s moist and flavorful. It holds its shape. I’d never ever had nothing but raves about my meatloaf.
That is until the ultimate meatloaf death match championship of 2006.
A meatloaf cook off was held to determine whose meatloaf would be served at this year's incarnation of my almost annual Soul Food Brunch.
My meatloaf got its ass soundly kicked.
My meatloaf became the bitch to the much more flavorful meatloaf of my friend.
Jealously and envy set in quickly.
I don’t so much mind losing---in my book losing equals learning. What chapped my hide is that I knew I lost when I took a bite of his creation when we were plating the food for our taste testers.
Defeat never tasted so good.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Trashy
According to my contact at the school across the street, the trash on their parkway will be picked up today or at the latest tomorrow. As if that weren't enough, the weekly maintenance schedule will be effective Monday, April 24th.
That means the two block stretch of parkway on the north side of the street will not look as ghetto.
It won't look ghetto at all when they finally lay sod and repair the curbs and sidewalks.
I'm sure the Jenkins' Boys will be disappointed.
That means the two block stretch of parkway on the north side of the street will not look as ghetto.
It won't look ghetto at all when they finally lay sod and repair the curbs and sidewalks.
I'm sure the Jenkins' Boys will be disappointed.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Cough and Turn Your Head
Apparently the mortgage company owner of one of our foreclosed upon units finally understands that we mean business.
The arrival of a lien against their property has loosened the proverbial purse strings and a check for the full amount is forthcoming.
Our association lawyer just called me and broke the good news.
So much for the property manager's explanation of this type of thing is usually handled at the closing table.
Our bills can't wait until the closing table.
Why do they make us pull out the legal bitch slap? Why do they make us become unpleasant to defend our financial interests?
We try to play nice but then they don't take us seriously.
Methinks they'll be taking us seriously from this point on.
The arrival of a lien against their property has loosened the proverbial purse strings and a check for the full amount is forthcoming.
Our association lawyer just called me and broke the good news.
So much for the property manager's explanation of this type of thing is usually handled at the closing table.
Our bills can't wait until the closing table.
Why do they make us pull out the legal bitch slap? Why do they make us become unpleasant to defend our financial interests?
We try to play nice but then they don't take us seriously.
Methinks they'll be taking us seriously from this point on.
When E.F. Hutton Talks
The mayor was amazed about how much subsidized housing money was being forked over for very meager dwellings.
Recent murders of a two young girls in the Englewood neighborhood brought the situation on his radar screen.
The mother of one of the young murder victims still had not had the window repaired where the bullet smashed through and killed her daughter.
Mr. Daley found this reprehensible.
Now I could be reading more into his comments than he intended but it seemed that the icing on the cake of this tragedy is that the rent on the home where the drive by occurred is $1,500 a month.
More than likely the head of the household is paying a small amount while CHAC subsidizes the lion’s share.
As a slight aside you need to know that Englewood really isn’t the garden spot of Chicago.
In fact, its high crime rate and rampant shootings makes it one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city.
Anyone who charges $1,500 for rent in Englewood should be drawn and quartered.
Regardless of who’s paying, for $1,500 a month the mayor feels that you shouldn’t have to look at the bullet hole in the glass that took the life of your child.
I whole heartedly agree.
I also saw an “in” to start a dialogue about the multiple problems within our condo association so I raised my hand to speak.
I remained focused and to the point---“Why are landlords in the CHAC program still being subsidized when their properties (or properties) are in the middle of the foreclosure processes?”
“It seems to be a waste of money, sir.”
I further went on to explain our situation and how I strongly believe that the landlords were getting paid literally until the day the foreclosure became final.
His eyebrows flew up and he exclaimed, “That’s ridiculous!”
Once again, I whole heartedly agreed.
He assured me that he and his staff would look into this matter and he’d get back to me.
Now I just didn’t take that for the normal level of bullshit that politicians give you. If Mr. Daley wants to ignore you---you are immediately persona non grata. He did seem really concerned so I took him at his word.
By the time everyone had said their piece, it was time to wrap it up and hit the road. It left little time to do a post mortem with the mayor or any of his aides.
I did have to go to my second job and daylight was burning.
So I’m sure you could imagine my surprise when I got a phone call from city hall a few days later.
Recent murders of a two young girls in the Englewood neighborhood brought the situation on his radar screen.
The mother of one of the young murder victims still had not had the window repaired where the bullet smashed through and killed her daughter.
Mr. Daley found this reprehensible.
Now I could be reading more into his comments than he intended but it seemed that the icing on the cake of this tragedy is that the rent on the home where the drive by occurred is $1,500 a month.
More than likely the head of the household is paying a small amount while CHAC subsidizes the lion’s share.
As a slight aside you need to know that Englewood really isn’t the garden spot of Chicago.
In fact, its high crime rate and rampant shootings makes it one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city.
Anyone who charges $1,500 for rent in Englewood should be drawn and quartered.
Regardless of who’s paying, for $1,500 a month the mayor feels that you shouldn’t have to look at the bullet hole in the glass that took the life of your child.
I whole heartedly agree.
I also saw an “in” to start a dialogue about the multiple problems within our condo association so I raised my hand to speak.
I remained focused and to the point---“Why are landlords in the CHAC program still being subsidized when their properties (or properties) are in the middle of the foreclosure processes?”
“It seems to be a waste of money, sir.”
I further went on to explain our situation and how I strongly believe that the landlords were getting paid literally until the day the foreclosure became final.
His eyebrows flew up and he exclaimed, “That’s ridiculous!”
Once again, I whole heartedly agreed.
He assured me that he and his staff would look into this matter and he’d get back to me.
Now I just didn’t take that for the normal level of bullshit that politicians give you. If Mr. Daley wants to ignore you---you are immediately persona non grata. He did seem really concerned so I took him at his word.
By the time everyone had said their piece, it was time to wrap it up and hit the road. It left little time to do a post mortem with the mayor or any of his aides.
I did have to go to my second job and daylight was burning.
So I’m sure you could imagine my surprise when I got a phone call from city hall a few days later.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Hizzoner
Breakfast with the Honorable Richard M. Daley was quite the event.
Rolling out of bed at 6:00 AM on a Saturday morning---not so much.
Conventional wisdom said get up, shut up and act like you have some sense. Quite frankly something either my mother or grandmother might have said.
I decided to follow that conventional wisdom despite my aspirations of flashing a pimped out grill to the mayor.
The process of going to an event with the mayor is fascinating. Since the overall group was going to be around 20-25 people we had to go through a vetting process of sorts.
That actually makes sense as you don’t want any loons getting to close to Chicago’s chief executive.
Then of course if one was foolish enough to attempt to do the mayor harm, the large and very menacing looking Chicago police officers that are his bodyguards should do enough to discourage the notion.
They are literally by his side (and outside his house) everywhere he goes.
Now I’m not sure if you good folks are familiar with the reputation of the Chicago Police Department but let’s just sum it up like this, the spirit of the ass kicking and name taking at the 1968 Democratic National Convention is still very much alive.
You do not want these ladies and gentlemen to take a professional interest in you. Trust me.
We were instructed to arrive around an hour prior to the start of the breakfast as the mayor had a tendency to arrive early.
We were seated and started in on the delicious food provided by the Five Loaves Restaurant when the mayor arrived.
My alderman introduced everyone individually to the mayor, a few brief remarks were made and we got down to the serious business of eating.
The food and the company were so good that I almost forgot that the mayor was sitting just one person over from me.
Not only did I have to act right but I also had to mind my table manners, so much for busting that toothpick out at the table.
Eventually our stomachs got full, the beverages were refilled and the mayor made his remarks.
That’s when it got interesting.
Rolling out of bed at 6:00 AM on a Saturday morning---not so much.
Conventional wisdom said get up, shut up and act like you have some sense. Quite frankly something either my mother or grandmother might have said.
I decided to follow that conventional wisdom despite my aspirations of flashing a pimped out grill to the mayor.
The process of going to an event with the mayor is fascinating. Since the overall group was going to be around 20-25 people we had to go through a vetting process of sorts.
That actually makes sense as you don’t want any loons getting to close to Chicago’s chief executive.
Then of course if one was foolish enough to attempt to do the mayor harm, the large and very menacing looking Chicago police officers that are his bodyguards should do enough to discourage the notion.
They are literally by his side (and outside his house) everywhere he goes.
Now I’m not sure if you good folks are familiar with the reputation of the Chicago Police Department but let’s just sum it up like this, the spirit of the ass kicking and name taking at the 1968 Democratic National Convention is still very much alive.
You do not want these ladies and gentlemen to take a professional interest in you. Trust me.
We were instructed to arrive around an hour prior to the start of the breakfast as the mayor had a tendency to arrive early.
We were seated and started in on the delicious food provided by the Five Loaves Restaurant when the mayor arrived.
My alderman introduced everyone individually to the mayor, a few brief remarks were made and we got down to the serious business of eating.
The food and the company were so good that I almost forgot that the mayor was sitting just one person over from me.
Not only did I have to act right but I also had to mind my table manners, so much for busting that toothpick out at the table.
Eventually our stomachs got full, the beverages were refilled and the mayor made his remarks.
That’s when it got interesting.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Last Weekend---Friday, Part II
Now what are the odds of meeting two wine distributors with season tickets to the Cubs, boats on the lake and access to the new Veuve Clicquot non vintage Rose while looking for fellow bloggers I’ve never met before?
I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Was this really happening?
Did I mention that one of the wine distributors was single?
When does this ever happen to me?
Actually, truth be told, this type of thing happens all of the time.
I always find myself running into some of the most interesting people in the most unlikely places. I guess last Friday was par for the course.
While double fisting at the front bar of Bernie’s watching pre-game, a nice man just came up and started talking to me.
He had that “married” look and seemed nice enough so we engaged in some back and forth baseball banter. After about a half an hour, his work friend came and joined him for pre-game libations.
It turned out the friend went to college in my home town so we debated the merits of town vs. gown and all that jazz.
Other topics ran the gamut from pissing and moaning about work, to where their other buddy might have wandered off to.
Somehow during the course of the multiple conversations, ice cold unopened beers** (Sam Adams, thank you) kept on being shoved in my hand.
God, this was a good day.
It was at this point the heavens opened and it’s as if God give us single women a little glimmer of what a good marriage looks like.
The first gentleman told a story of how he went shopping with his wife for one pair of shoes and she came out with five.
Not only did he NOT complain but he paid for all five pairs and understands why we need so many shoes.
I almost hugged him.
And yes before you ask, he was straight.
A nice man with a boat, who buys shoes and has access to good hooch---you must be shitting me.
I wasn’t aware such a man existed.
If I were her, I’d never let that dude out of my sight. You know how some broads get.
While his single friend was a bit easier on the eyes and had a rockin’ body, you could smell his commitment issues a mile away. It’s not that his looks and charm are wasted on me; it’s just that after a while you just understand that a leopard doesn’t change his spots.
In short, he ain’t the marrying kind.
Now he’s the "date awhile" kind and the “I can’t believe what I just did” kind but marriage? Nope. Nada. Nein.
A hoot and a holler nonetheless; thoroughly entertaining.
After a few more beers I asked them specifically what they did to procure legal currency and that’s when they dropped the bomb:
“We’re wine distributors.”
I think someone caught me when I swooned.
I was brought back to consciousness with another beer.
Life at that precise moment was as good as it was gonna get. Unfortunately after a brief chit chat about the wine business the guys had to posse up and head to their dugout seats at the game.
Seeing that I didn’t have a ticket to the game, the gentlemen loaded me up with sympathy beers and flew the coop.
There was a ward breakfast with the Mayor the next day and had to at least be able to put a sentence together.
I came, I drank, the Cubs conquered.
Rogers Park Reviewers, you missed a good time.
**As a general rule never accept drafts, open beers or cocktails of any kind from anyone you don’t know.
I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Was this really happening?
Did I mention that one of the wine distributors was single?
When does this ever happen to me?
Actually, truth be told, this type of thing happens all of the time.
I always find myself running into some of the most interesting people in the most unlikely places. I guess last Friday was par for the course.
While double fisting at the front bar of Bernie’s watching pre-game, a nice man just came up and started talking to me.
He had that “married” look and seemed nice enough so we engaged in some back and forth baseball banter. After about a half an hour, his work friend came and joined him for pre-game libations.
It turned out the friend went to college in my home town so we debated the merits of town vs. gown and all that jazz.
Other topics ran the gamut from pissing and moaning about work, to where their other buddy might have wandered off to.
Somehow during the course of the multiple conversations, ice cold unopened beers** (Sam Adams, thank you) kept on being shoved in my hand.
God, this was a good day.
It was at this point the heavens opened and it’s as if God give us single women a little glimmer of what a good marriage looks like.
The first gentleman told a story of how he went shopping with his wife for one pair of shoes and she came out with five.
Not only did he NOT complain but he paid for all five pairs and understands why we need so many shoes.
I almost hugged him.
And yes before you ask, he was straight.
A nice man with a boat, who buys shoes and has access to good hooch---you must be shitting me.
I wasn’t aware such a man existed.
If I were her, I’d never let that dude out of my sight. You know how some broads get.
While his single friend was a bit easier on the eyes and had a rockin’ body, you could smell his commitment issues a mile away. It’s not that his looks and charm are wasted on me; it’s just that after a while you just understand that a leopard doesn’t change his spots.
In short, he ain’t the marrying kind.
Now he’s the "date awhile" kind and the “I can’t believe what I just did” kind but marriage? Nope. Nada. Nein.
A hoot and a holler nonetheless; thoroughly entertaining.
After a few more beers I asked them specifically what they did to procure legal currency and that’s when they dropped the bomb:
“We’re wine distributors.”
I think someone caught me when I swooned.
I was brought back to consciousness with another beer.
Life at that precise moment was as good as it was gonna get. Unfortunately after a brief chit chat about the wine business the guys had to posse up and head to their dugout seats at the game.
Seeing that I didn’t have a ticket to the game, the gentlemen loaded me up with sympathy beers and flew the coop.
There was a ward breakfast with the Mayor the next day and had to at least be able to put a sentence together.
I came, I drank, the Cubs conquered.
Rogers Park Reviewers, you missed a good time.
**As a general rule never accept drafts, open beers or cocktails of any kind from anyone you don’t know.
Last Weekend---Friday, Part I
Other than being the trash police, last weekend was fun but chaotic.
Friday the 7th was the Cubs’ home opener. The usual baseball lovin’ crew was in full effect but as to be expected, I made new friends along the way.
For those of you who have never experienced a Cub’s home opener, let me advise you that if you ever plan to dive in I suggest getting a good night’s sleep, bringing a great deal of cash and getting started very early.
Believe it or not, most of the bars in Wrigleyville, the neighborhood surrounding the ballpark, open at 6 AM.
You heard me 6 AM.
Note: Gates to the park opened at 11:20 AM. The game starts at 1:20 PM.
If you’re young, an inexperienced drinker or just a plain old dumb ass you could seriously hurt yourself.
Think about it, seven hours and twenty minutes of drinking---in some people’s cases, pounding---until the first pitch.
You could easily drink yourself into a coma.
Luckily I’m old enough, smart enough and have made a requisite opening day mistakes to know better.
Plus I had the ward breakfast with the Mayor on Saturday so I couldn’t show up looking like a bag of ass with a face on from the previous day.
Condo business with the lawyer delayed me so I didn’t wind up at Yakzie’s until about 9:45 AM.
Frankly that’s a respectable time to start drinking on opening day.
Despite the fact, I didn’t have a ticket I still like the event that opening day has grown into for the Cubs.
Hope for a playoff run and joviality rule the day. Naturally drinking was a touch heavier this year than last as Cub fans attempted to erase the memory of the White Sox winning the World Series.
As the kids bundled up and struck out to there seats, I thought it might be a good idea to bounce over to Bernie’s to see in any Rogers Park people took me up on my invitation.
Sadly I didn’t find any Roger’s Parkers but I did manage to run into some fine wine distributors.
Friday the 7th was the Cubs’ home opener. The usual baseball lovin’ crew was in full effect but as to be expected, I made new friends along the way.
For those of you who have never experienced a Cub’s home opener, let me advise you that if you ever plan to dive in I suggest getting a good night’s sleep, bringing a great deal of cash and getting started very early.
Believe it or not, most of the bars in Wrigleyville, the neighborhood surrounding the ballpark, open at 6 AM.
You heard me 6 AM.
Note: Gates to the park opened at 11:20 AM. The game starts at 1:20 PM.
If you’re young, an inexperienced drinker or just a plain old dumb ass you could seriously hurt yourself.
Think about it, seven hours and twenty minutes of drinking---in some people’s cases, pounding---until the first pitch.
You could easily drink yourself into a coma.
Luckily I’m old enough, smart enough and have made a requisite opening day mistakes to know better.
Plus I had the ward breakfast with the Mayor on Saturday so I couldn’t show up looking like a bag of ass with a face on from the previous day.
Condo business with the lawyer delayed me so I didn’t wind up at Yakzie’s until about 9:45 AM.
Frankly that’s a respectable time to start drinking on opening day.
Despite the fact, I didn’t have a ticket I still like the event that opening day has grown into for the Cubs.
Hope for a playoff run and joviality rule the day. Naturally drinking was a touch heavier this year than last as Cub fans attempted to erase the memory of the White Sox winning the World Series.
As the kids bundled up and struck out to there seats, I thought it might be a good idea to bounce over to Bernie’s to see in any Rogers Park people took me up on my invitation.
Sadly I didn’t find any Roger’s Parkers but I did manage to run into some fine wine distributors.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Officer Krupke
The cat is out of the friggin bag.
According to Caustic, there are many things wrong with me. Let’s tick down the list, shall we?
I am the trash AND the policy police.
I have little empathy for others who make mistakes.
I am passive aggressive.
My e-mails were inappropriate.
I am threatening.
And my personal favorite from all of the fur flying yesterday:
“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.”
Its official kids, I’ve been given an ultimatum AND been called a line crosser.
So much for Caustic becoming a member of the Woodlawn Wonder’s mutual admiration society.
Can’t you hear the resounding chorus of oooooo’s from the crowd of fifth grade girls circled around us?
I mean honestly, can you believe this shit?
Let’s not beat a dead horse by hashing over why Caustic blew this thing up to the stratosphere. Even if my initial e-mail was out of line---which it wasn’t and even if I were dead wrong---which I’m not; dragging everyone and their mother into our little dustup was unnecessary.
Quite frankly it’s a desperate attempt by someone who can’t adequately defend themselves or their actions to gather allies and sympathy.
Much like the commercial that is being fed to the kids these days, I can stand as an Army of one.
Unless it’s a legal or professional situation, I rarely need others to agree with me when I know I’m right.
That way if I’m wrong, it’s only me who sinks---not the rest of the crew.
‘Cause that’s just the type of stand up broad I am.
Nonetheless, I still have to deal with Caustic as secretary of our condo association.
Since everything’s on the record these days, let me respond---if only to you kind readers---to Caustic’s baseless accusations.
I am the trash AND policy police.
A lack of standards and rules got us into trouble as an association in the first place. If a board member can’t query someone about a blatant rule violation, who can?
I have little empathy for others who make mistakes.
Ha! Apparently Caustic does read my blog and didn’t read this post.
I am passive aggressive.
People mistake fair & calm fighting for passive aggressive. Just because I disagree with you doesn’t mean I have to swing on you.
My e-mails were inappropriate.
Of course they’re perceived as inappropriate when people get called on their shit. If that’s my cross to bear then so be it.
I’m threatening.
Ladies and Gentlemen, rest assured that when I threaten you---which rarely happens by the way---you’ll know. Presence and confidence are often mistaken for threats and arrogance. There is a marked difference. Don’t blame me because I’m almost six feet tall and DON’T fit into a size six. I’m a lover, not a fighter.
But don’t think I won’t put a size 11 up someone’s ass when the need arises.
Does anybody want to take bets on when the next brouhaha will be?
According to Caustic, there are many things wrong with me. Let’s tick down the list, shall we?
I am the trash AND the policy police.
I have little empathy for others who make mistakes.
I am passive aggressive.
My e-mails were inappropriate.
I am threatening.
And my personal favorite from all of the fur flying yesterday:
“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.”
Its official kids, I’ve been given an ultimatum AND been called a line crosser.
So much for Caustic becoming a member of the Woodlawn Wonder’s mutual admiration society.
Can’t you hear the resounding chorus of oooooo’s from the crowd of fifth grade girls circled around us?
I mean honestly, can you believe this shit?
Let’s not beat a dead horse by hashing over why Caustic blew this thing up to the stratosphere. Even if my initial e-mail was out of line---which it wasn’t and even if I were dead wrong---which I’m not; dragging everyone and their mother into our little dustup was unnecessary.
Quite frankly it’s a desperate attempt by someone who can’t adequately defend themselves or their actions to gather allies and sympathy.
Much like the commercial that is being fed to the kids these days, I can stand as an Army of one.
Unless it’s a legal or professional situation, I rarely need others to agree with me when I know I’m right.
That way if I’m wrong, it’s only me who sinks---not the rest of the crew.
‘Cause that’s just the type of stand up broad I am.
Nonetheless, I still have to deal with Caustic as secretary of our condo association.
Since everything’s on the record these days, let me respond---if only to you kind readers---to Caustic’s baseless accusations.
I am the trash AND policy police.
A lack of standards and rules got us into trouble as an association in the first place. If a board member can’t query someone about a blatant rule violation, who can?
I have little empathy for others who make mistakes.
Ha! Apparently Caustic does read my blog and didn’t read this post.
I am passive aggressive.
People mistake fair & calm fighting for passive aggressive. Just because I disagree with you doesn’t mean I have to swing on you.
My e-mails were inappropriate.
Of course they’re perceived as inappropriate when people get called on their shit. If that’s my cross to bear then so be it.
I’m threatening.
Ladies and Gentlemen, rest assured that when I threaten you---which rarely happens by the way---you’ll know. Presence and confidence are often mistaken for threats and arrogance. There is a marked difference. Don’t blame me because I’m almost six feet tall and DON’T fit into a size six. I’m a lover, not a fighter.
But don’t think I won’t put a size 11 up someone’s ass when the need arises.
Does anybody want to take bets on when the next brouhaha will be?
Monday, April 10, 2006
...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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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?
Friday, April 07, 2006
Thursday, April 06, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
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.
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.
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.
Monday, April 03, 2006
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.
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?
God, could this day get any more annoying?
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