Palm Patch

I'm no palm lover, but a concrete patch?!

On 6th Avenue near Adams.

Strike 2

First I booted a listing, now possible clients, buyers as well.

Our initial exchange (they were a couple that came referred) went something like this:

Them: "We're not sure we're willing to live in West Adams."

Me: "That's fine, though technically at your target price range, it's unlikely you could afford West Adams proper, but I know you mean the larger South Los Angeles area."

"Nor are we willing to live East of downtown."

"And how do you view the communities along the Arroyo."

"Those are East of downtown."

"Yes, just checking. What about just West of downtown, in places like Echo Park and Historic Filipinotown?"

"Aren't there gangs there?"



"There likely are, in a lot of neighborhoods wherein young people have real or imagined problems, they form gangs."

"We can't live anywhere that has gangs."

"There are gangs across most of Los Angeles. But I understand, you need to feel comfortable, secure."

"Exactly."

"I hope as we explore these places, we may find some pockets, some sections, in which you think you could feel secure.

"We're concerned about safety."

"Naturally. Returning briefly to geography...."

"We're thinking about Pasadena, though not North of the 134/210 freeways."

"Okay [long pause]. You also said 'you're not sure you're willing to live in West Adams', under what circumstances might you be willing to consider living in West Adams?"



"It's really just a feel thing".

"Could we start by driving around, trying to identify some qualities that are appealing."

"That'd be great, particularly since we've never been there."

Me: "Never been....where?"

Them: "West Adams."

Me: "[Long pause] On second thought, maybe we shouldn't--you know there are gangs there."

I'm leaving money behind at the table. Leaving money behind at the table. Money behind at the table.....

Billboards Part 2

La Brea Boulevard. Ever notice? West of LaBrea they get the nifty billboards: chrome and leather furniture, Swiss watches modeled by Russian Grand-slammers, Scorsese flixs.




My neighborhood gets Sangria and P.S.A.'s.; and, even then we don't get the Child Obesity posting with the pretty and sympathetic Vanessa Williams-looking nurse. Instead, we get the Latin Nurse Ratched, disapproving and pitiless.





An alcohol advisory appears along Figueroa. I'm sure Palos Verdes has problems with social drinking and learnedness, though you'd never see a billboard such as this in a place such as that.


Inner city billboards have long been dominated by alcohol. Malt liquor, the original super-size-me (40 oz.), and brands like Hennessey's cognac, mount seductive depictions of ghetto high life: cars, black velvet, mod johns, and, well, Vanessa Williams-like babes.

I wish we could eliminate billboards altogether.

Escrow & Ethics

It seems whenever I deal with big brokerage agents, an Affiliated Business Disclosure is incorporated. What's that? A form which usually indicates the brokerage owns a piece of the escrow and/or title company.

I've never known there to be outright kickbacks, favoritism, or hanky-panky, still I don't like it. It has the appearance of impropriety. Escrow is supposed to be a neutral, third-party. Not an affiliated interest with a spoon-fed referral pipeline.

I mean what if the appraisers worked for the agents, then there'd never be a failed appraisal ever! What if the home inspectors were employed by the listing agents, likely the reports would be softened. I don't mean to suggest an inherent conflict, it's just--they're holding the money!



Fortunately, I have no office mandate. I use an escrow with experienced people, and close to my residence, so I can deliver documents, do things face-to-face, or drop-in on short notice.

I should probably think more about things like vertical integration, maybe I'd be a better American

Comebacks

Los Angeles once boasted the largest interurban railway system in the country. That system, the Pacific Electric Railway, largely extinct since 1961, has been revived in one small part.

The Port of Los Angeles has resurrected a portion of the original San Pedro Red Car line, 1.5 miles along its waterfront. Three cars are in operation, one restored car and two exact replicas of the 500-class design series that ran from 1903-1930.




The ride (one-day unlimited) costs a buck, transfers to shuttles, and is free for kids (moreover they receive a paper conductors cap and Red Car history coloring book.) The days of operation are Friday through Monday (10 am to 6 pm), with service every 20 minutes.

I took my son last Monday, after we first watched the documentary, This is Pacific Electric. There were so few riders that the conductor was willing to explain the controls, gauges, and whistle. A few rail buffs (there's always a few), chatted about, comparing rail museums. The best, they claimed, are in Sacramento and Perris. Perris? Hmmm, expect a report soon.

Billboards part 1

Last week the LA Times reported a settlement between the City of Los Angeles and two billboard companies, Clear Channel Outdoor and CBS Outdoor, whereby 98 billboards would be removed, in addition to any erected after 1999 sans permit.

The settlement stems from a pair of laws passed by the L.A. City Council in 2002, which mandates yearly inspection fees (and a moritorium on new billboards).

The Times story cites a group called Scenic America (www.scenic.org), whose mantra is the wonderful: Change is inevitable. Ugliness is not.

Scenic America reports extensively on the Billboard industry, as well as other aspects of scenic conservation, including tree conservation, telecommunications towers, transportation planning and design, and utility relocation ("undergrounding").

With most of their reporting and assessments, I couldn't agree more.

Hobart Autos

In Dave Zanhiser's now-disparaged LA Weekly article (one of my readers complained, "He sounds like a bitter renter"), Dave scribed about the faces of gentrification, including ornamental grasses and gelaterias.

Sure Xeroscaping can be a tip-off, signs of a more educated, eco-conscious owner.
While Gelaterias can be a sign of....I dunno, Italians?

Walking Rocky the dog up Hobart Avenue, between Washington and Venice, handing out my folksy neighbor letter and boastful Oxford flyer, it struck me, the cars:



Honda Elements--two, Volvo's--including the wagon, Honda sub-compacts, a Mini, and a Prius! "Wow," I sounded, clarion-voiced and startling Rocky, "there's probably theme parties, communal vegetable gardens, and reading salons on this block". I continued along, mostly pulled by the dog, lacking initiative, tippling the sophisticated fusion of preservation and anti-status status.

"Must find Chevy Caprice, must find Chevy Caprice....", I droned, not knowing what I'd do if I found a Chevy Caprice. I narrowily avoided a wine and fig glace tasting. "Can't stay," I stammered, "there's a Peckingpaugh film at the Cinemateque". Such reference to violent spectacle, I thought, would lessen their interest in me.

Rocky guided me home.

Look What the Mailman Dragged In

Here's a postcard, so littered with text, the object d'commerce is obscured. Note the realtor degrees: GRI, CRS. Does anyone know what these are?

You'd think a guy with all those diplomas, would've taken a class on mailers.



This letter was issued in the name of a very successful agent. No fooling.

Now, I have a lot of admiration for people who can prosper in this industry without English proficiency. My Spanish, for example, is limited and has been at times insufficient. I recognize this, and still, I have a Spanish language mailer. How so? I hired a proof reader, a native speaker. Because translation is rarely literal.

B & B Hardware

Unless I'm buying kiln-dried 2x4's, or 80 lb bags of mortar, I almost never shop at the warehouse building supply places. Partially for high-sounding reasons, but also because they're difficult to get into and out of quickly.

I prefer specialty stores, though my favorite general hardware store in Los Angeles is B & B Harware at 12450 West Washington Blvd. (at Centinela). (I also like Berg's in Pasadena.) B & B has a well-staffed plumbing supply section. Furthermore, with an employee permanently stationed at the hardware counter, there's always help matching the odd metric bolt or stainless screw.

Gebhard and Winter are Sissies

Ever read any of the so-called Los Angeles Architectural Guides? They're more interested in bland Monterrey revivals in Brentwood and miniature golf courses in Encino than detailing the mother lode that is South Los Angeles. East L.A. often gets shorted too, particularly on beyond Soto.


In Bungalow [Arayan] Nation, errrr, author Diane Maddex touches down in Pasadena, and then--overlooking the greatest concentration of Arts-and-Crafts houses in the United States of America--profiles a pair of shamefully mediocre abodes in Santa Monica.





Gives you greater respect for someone like Jose Camilo Vergara, a photographer/sociologist who has visited and re-visited many of America's most squalid urban epicenters, what he calls "hyper ghettoes", detailing significant architectural casualties and alterations.


Vergara's most recent book is entitled, How the Other Half Worships, and it features extensive depiction of Los Angeles area storefront churches and other unexpected adaptations.




His style, often simplistically referred to as stark, is respectful and pensive.
Perhaps most evocative are his "time lapse" sequences, like the sort I've crudely rephotographed here (from The New American Ghetto)





Vergara's L.A. photo musings appear occasionally in the Times Sunday magazine, most recently with a piece on abandoned autos. Currently, he is working on a photographic survey of Richmond, California and Camden, New Jersey.

The Controversial Ad & Tie

There's razzing in every line of work. There's also status games, pretense, smiling faces, and player haters.

Oh, did I mention by the way I'm in real estate.

It wasn't long after Monday's Open House Directory drop-off, that my industry pals started in.



"Mr. Real Estate agent with the big time color ad, what're you Mr. Valerie Fitzgerald, the Adam Janeiro Collection, or the Bizzy Bald?!"

"It's a million plus dollar property", I retorted, "I need broader exposure in response to its price point".

Probably not helping matters, I threw in a little Joseph Abboud for the Thursday Broker's Open. I withheld the neckware, though I brought it along for prop effect.

"Wow, a matching jacket and pants. What's next Janeiro," the uptown slickies resumed, "a washing for your dusty pickup?"

"I'm waiting till October," I responded.

"Why," they asked, "what happens then?"

"Rain," I stated, "rain".

A Gavial He Ain't

The blogging burden.

I've asked the Crocodile to cover for me, write a couple of installments until I can catch my breath.

As always, his opinions are his own. Incidentally Croc, you may be right about gas prices, regular's under three bucks.



Of course I'm right. It'll go lower still, with these new deep-sea wells in the Gulf of Mexico.

I'd rather you pontificate about the housing market, Croc.

Ahem. Have you noted the disappearing "bubble" talk? Today's terms are "slow-down flattening, softening, weakening." Guess that means we won't have an overnight implosion, a black market day, with thousands of sellers wagon-training out of town, faces blasted raw by raging Santa Ana winds, pursued by marauding packs of mustachioed lenders. Still, there's folk out there, hoping, hoping, hoping, for the market to capsize. Do they think they're the only buyers-to-be? Can you imagine what would happen if prices returned to 2002 or even 2003 levels? We'd have pandemonium all over again, overbids, multiple offers, speculation craziness, pre-sales, no contingency free-for-alls, the works.

Do you like my hat?

Emard House update

At long last, the Emard house (2042 S. Oxford Avenue) is on the market. We had to stop working on it sometime. (See the archives for previous posts plus the history of West Adams Heights/Sugar Hill.)

Emard is the name of the current owner. We don't yet know the original owner's name, because there's no building permit on file.



Writer Danny Miller, poured through Census data, via Ancestory.com; and, he relates the following:

In 1910, the house was owned by Emile H. Breidenbach, a 46-year-old man who was born in Louisiana to German immigrants. He lived there with his wife Rose, 40, and their son, Emile H. Breidenbach Jr., age 7. The father was some kind of buyer but I can't tell if it's hardware or hardwood.

By 1920, it was owned by Isaac B. Milliken, 44, a druggist from Pennsylvania,
and his wife, Julia F. Milliken, 48.



By 1930, the house had changed hands again, and was now owned by the Sedgwicks. Emily Sedgwick, a 53-year-old widow, lived there with her SEVEN children: Jane, Allen, Sarah, Robert, Frederick, Emily, and Julius, ranging in age from 27 to 8, AND her 78-year-old mother-in-law Jenne T. Sedgwick. Quite a full house! I'm surprised you didn't see more attempts to make additional rooms.

The younger Emily Sedgwick was still living there in 1938 when she got engaged
to James C. Stone, but I'm not sure when the Sedgwicks sold. I believe it was
up for sale in both 1948 and 1956.




A few details that I can offer: the property has served as a dance studio, a home for wayward girls, and--like all of West Adams' grandest--a boarding house.

I'll have it open on Sunday, stop by if you're around.

Mail Bag Part One

These come courtesy of my incensed neighbors. You'd be incensed too if your neighborhood was being targeted by slumlords. Yours is as well? Never mind.

Display number one:


Check out the dog! Faintskin's got himself a vaguely ethnic honey and a purebred. Now I love dogs, I'm a shepherd man myself, but I've had rottis and all kinds of mixes come through my yard. Still, I just want to sock that dog in the nose.





Display number two:



Here's a pitch from some vulgarian bunch with a quasi-governmental moniker. Could've fooled me.




"Cash offer on your table within 48 hours."
Cash offer on your table.

I called. Of course I did, my wife was at work.

"Can I have cash on my table," I asked.

"Can I have cash on my dresser," I persisted.


"Can I have cash on my beautiful built-in buffet that you'll likely tear out?"

The call ended. I didn't get the cash but I've still got my people skills.

The Listing That Got Away

People gathered and I felt responsible to entertain. "A story", I promised, "The Listing That Got Away."

Three days after 29th Place closed/sold, I received a call from a nearby resident who wished to interview me for the purposes of possible representation (dude wanted to sell his house). This homeowner had followed recent sales in the area, noted the preponderance of City Living Realty deals, and some of the higher sales figures attached.




We set a time to meet, and I began to pull materials together, including a permit/public records search on his home.

The owner had done a lot of substantial systems work, it's true: a new foundation, driveway, and garage. The house had been re-wired and re-plumbed. The kitchen had been remodeled, acceptably, with granite countertops that might appeal to some, and a slender island.

He figured his house should command top dollar. I saw it a little differently. "It should certainly be priced at the higher end", I opined, "you've done wonderful work, and there's a lot of positives. There aren't though--and this isn't a knock on you or your house--truly special architectural or finished detail features. Twenty-ninth place", I continued, "had an unique decorative fireplace, a bevy of stained glass, and an unusually deep wrap-around porch. Thirty-first street", I offered, describing a City Living sale of earlier this year, "featured a handful of period light fixtures, a uncommonly decorative dining room buffet, and a rich succession of moldings."




It was all about price, I could tell.


"Any agent can shoot off their big mouth", I offered, "promise the moon, and then badger you into a series of price reductions later while your property wilts on the market. I'd rather, whilst remaining ambitious, consider a price that's deliverable and is supported by recent market performance and context."

It was all about price, I could tell.

"I'd also rather discuss how I'm going to market the property, and the different set of services I provide."

It was all about--ah forget it. I didn't get the listing. It's with some "out of area" tool, offering a miserly commission, at an astronomical price. It's better really, 'cause I'm still idealistic enough to think all my listings should offer either strong features or relative value.