Club Chaos Agents - All Things Hollish, Wacked, and Jacked

I get a lot of emails about buying and selling homes in Land Park. That's because I live in Land Park, and I specialize in Land Park. Out of any neighborhood in my four-county Sacramento area, I know the various Land Park neighborhoods the best. I do so much in Land Park that I am Zillow Land Park agent as well. But I've also been in the business for more than 30 years. Last month I earned top agent at Lyon Real Estate out of the 900-or so agents in the company. As a Life Member of Master's Club and a Top Producer, I must be doing something right or you would think.

That gets me noticed by sellers and buyers. Especially sellers who want to sell in Land Park. They see my For Sale signs in Land Park and they find me online. I also have clients call me because of stuff I write for The New York Times-owned Homebuying website at About.com. You'll find thousands of pages of content. It's hard to search for any real estate-related term and not find something I wrote online in the top results. I'm not bragging, it's just how it is. I've been at it a while.

So, when a prospective seller emails me to say they would like to interview me about selling his or her home in Land Park, I am not surprised. But I am wary when they don't act like a seller.

I have discovered that sellers are either actively searching for an honest and experienced Land Park agent, or they want confirmation of sales price. If they want confirmation of sales price, they will generally ask for a CMA and not want to meet. I don't blame sellers because they don't always know how the real estate industry works. My job is to figure out which sellers are serious and who want to hire the best Land Park agent. Those are the sellers I want to work with.

I have really good intuition. I can sense when something is amiss. Like last week a seller emailed and asked to meet. She didn't ask any of the qualifying questions, just mentioned she was interviewing agents. My intuition told me she had no plans to hire me. She had already made up her mind to hire some friend. She's in the business of buying homes and flipping them and she has no agent? I was fairly certain she was not entirely truthful with me. I felt a little guilty that I did not take the time to put together a marketing package or any of my regular materials. I ran a fast CMA with 3 comps, clipped it together and dashed out the door. I always try to give a benefit of doubt. Because what if I am wrong? I could be wrong.

We met. She spent most of her time talking about the house and the work she did. When I mentioned she should do a virtual tour, she whipped out her iPad and wrote it down. That was interesting. I tried another. I said she should print four-color flyers on 100-bond paper with a glossy coating. She wrote that down.

People ask me: am I not worried that I am giving away all of my secrets when I write my blog or articles for About.com? See, the thing is no two people will ever perform alike. Regardless of the information they have. There is no competition. It's not something I ever worry about. Nobody is me, and I am not them. We all develop our own style based on our own strengths and experiences. I am a baby-boomer writer, a flashback from the '60s, with a graphic arts designer / remodeling background who has been in real estate since college. That's a very weird combo.

This seller never asked me for a sales price. She never asked how I would market her home. I live within blocks from her flipper house. I know the neighborhood hands down. She never asked me about the neighborhood, except to announce that where my home is located is a scary place. News to me. I also sold a nearby Land Park home recently that is very similar to her flipper, but it has dramatic differences, which I tried to discuss but she was not interested in the comparison. I began to wonder why I was there. I listened to this seller tell me how much she admires me and my work, how she reads my blogs and my articles, and is so impressed.

The agent she will hire could be her boyfriend. Hard to say. Maybe a cousin. But this is not the ideal way to sell a home in Land Park.

 

This is how we've finally solved the cat tree problem at our home in Land Park. The problem is we've had multiple cat trees but only spots for 2 cats to sit, and we have 3 cats. We have a cinnammon-spotted ocicat named Pia. She is the cat on the bottom rung, but she rules the house.

On the second rung, I present Jackson, the flamepoint ragdoll, who is always looking for trouble because he's barely a year old. Trouble is Jackson's middle name.

On the top rung is Pica, a marbled silver chocolate ocicat. He came to live with us because breeders can't show marbled ocicats. They can only show those cats with spots. Pia, on the other hand, was a breeding cat who retired at 18 months and was looking for a good home.

We went to the movies at Arden Fair last weekend to see Hugo and stopped by Petco to pick up the crazy chicken for Pia. She loves those PureBites chicken treats. We spotted this cat tree and bought it on the spot. I've been looking for a 3-tiered cat tree for years.

See, I knew there was a reason we jumped out of the long line at the Tower Theatre. We had originally gone to the Tower to see George Clooney, but the line was out to the street. Some of the people didn't even know why they were there -- I asked a woman which movie she came to see and she told me The Defenders. It was the The Descendents. So, we'll have to go see that movie some other time.

The Land Park Community Association was all for the cell tower going up west of Riverside in the cemetery. They didn't want the cell tower on the other side "where everybody could see it." That's because we don't want the wealthier residents of Land Park to be forced to stare at the cell tower. It's much better to stick it on the side of Land Park where the poor people live. Where people who live in the low-income housing units or drive up or walk down Muir Way have to look at it.

However, as cell towers, go, it's not bad. Although I live and work in Land Park, I do have a few listings in Antelope. That's because as a busy Land Park agent, I also sell a lot of short sales in Sacramento. It's the nature of our economy at the moment. To reach this listing in Antelope, I have to drive north on Walerga from Greenback. There is an awful looking cell tower there. Looks like something from outer space.

But here in Land Park Sacramento, our cell tower is somewhat camouflaged. I mean, nobody will mistake it for a pine tree, but it's not staring you in the face. And at least when I am west of Riverside, maybe T-Mobile won't drop my cell phone calls.

The after photo of the Land Park cell tower is to the left (it's the tallest "tree"), and the before photo to the right. Land Park cell tower photos: Elizabeth Weintraub

When I was younger, I used to say that the only thing better than being beautiful is being smart. And if you can have those two traits combined, then more power to you -- you're lucky. Smart people get ahead, but beautiful people get promoted, and that's just the way life is. If you think looks don't matter and play no role in office politics, in school, in your career or otherwise, then you're probably a homely person.

But what happens if you are truly beautiful and you have no brain?

One of the reasons I am attracted to cats is because they are smart. Like dogs, they are loyal, but unlike dogs, they are incredibly sneaky, manipulative and well, let's just say a cat lost in the woods would never starve to death. Cats are capable of doing the unthinkable. They can open locked doors by staring at them. They don't always use their incredible brains because they don't have to. Many times they are spoiled rotten.

My cats have us wrapped around their little paws. We are at their beck and call and do whatever is asked of us. The cats make their needs known. They are excellent communicators.

Except for Jackson, the ragdoll, who lives with us in Land Park, Sacramento. He spends hours gazing at himself in the mirror. But he doesn't have the lick of common sense given to a gopher. My friend Myrl Jeffcoat calls him a "blonde" for all that entails. I'm beginning to think she is right. His favorite thing to do right now is not drink out of the water fountain like the other cats, but to splash the water all over the ceramic floor and then knock off the top of the fountain, just for the fun of it!

Photo: Elizabeth Weintraub, Jackson the Flamepoint Ragdoll

Pia lives in Land Park, Sacramento, with her servants Adam and Elizabeth Weintraub. She also allows Pica and Jackson to live with her.

I once gave my mother a framed dead beetle. It was a framed and under glass dead Chinese beetle. I found it at Mall of America in a store filled with butterflies. This was not among her belongings when we cleaned out her apartment after her death. Just goes to show that it's really tough to find a present for a person who has everything and wants nothing. And that I might have been better off choosing a butterfly instead.

Apart from Monarch butterflies, which were abundant in Minnesota while I was growing up, and the yellow Swallowtail butterflies I see in northern California, I know very little about butterflies. I know that the Monarchs fly to Mexico every year for winter, and that global warming is killing them off. And some caterpillars are smoking hookah. But that's about the extent of my butterfly knowledge.

I came across this butterfly a few days ago in Land Park, Sacramento. Dubbed it the inside-out butterfly. That's because its wings on the outside are a different color and pattern than the inside. The outside of this butterfly is like stained glass. The inside is bright orange.

This meant all work came to a screeching halt while I researched the identity of this butterfly. See, this is what happens when you start looking at birds through binoculars and you pay attention to the world of nature around you. It's here every single day but we ignore it. I used to think that all the birds in my yard were brown. They are actually yellow and green and blue and red. Go look for yourself.

As a Sacramento short sale agent, my nose is buried in my computer half of the time. The other half I am going to closings or taking short sale listings.

But today I share with you a Gulf Fritillary Malachite butterfly. You would not think you'd find a Gulf Fritillary in Sacramento, but they are here.

Photo: Elizabeth Weintraub, BlackBerrry BOLD

I hate being sold to. I think everybody hates being sold to. I don't mind a salesperson helping me to make a choice, but I don't want them shoving their decision down my throat or trying to sell me crap I don't need or want.

Before my hairdresser finishes with my hair, I noticed yesterday that she runs to the checkout counter and lines up product. She gushes and coos about each product she uses on my hair as she's doing it. That's bad enough. But I resent it when I'm paying at the counter and she waives her hands like Vanna White toward the product line up. I want to grab my checkbook and beat her over the head with it.

The only reason I don't is because my hairdresser is clearly uncomfortable with being forced by management to push product. Lush Salon? You should knock it off. You're ticking off your customers.

Times are rough. You can't turn any corner or any page without running into how tough people have it right now. It's so bad that Wayne Newton is turning his Las Vegas residence into a tourist attraction. I have no desire to see Wayne Newton perform much less tour his 10,000 square-foot Casa de Shenandoah estate.

Heck, I didn't even make it out to the Sacramento Airport on Sunday to see the stupid red rabbit at our newly completed International World Class Terminal B. Like my husband says, if you have to frame your face in preparation for a Hollywood close up and scream look at me, look at me, you're not International World Class. Don't worry if you missed it because Hawaiian Airlines is moving to Terminal B, and you can all see it all on your next trip to Hawaii.

Maybe I should sell tickets to visit one of the very special homes in Land Park? For an extra 50 cents, I'll let visitors peer under my Land Park deck at the family of skunks in residence. I'll probably have to put up velvet ropes to funnel traffic in and out of my Land Park master suite because you can only fit one person at a time in my Land Park master bath. I could turn my dining room into a museum shop and sell keepsakes: miniature resin figurines of the dead birds that fly into my plate-glass windows. Let this be a warning to you kids!

Or, I can just keep on selling Sacramento short sales as a Sacramento short sale agent. Like helping this 84-year-old seller whom buyers threw out of his home a few months ago and then abruptly canceled escrow on him. I hope there's a place in H.E. Double Toothpick for buyers like that. We just got HAFA short sale approval again yesterday. New buyer, new closing, new approval. We're closing in 3 weeks. I don't have to sell my seller on that.

I don't know of any homeowners in Land Park who own a gun. I suspect that guns are sort of a rarity in this neighborhood. I don't own one, and I live in Land Park. None of my neighbors has a gun, I don't think. I'm not really gung ho on guns. Although I did have a bit of change of heart after reading Deer Hunting With Jesus. Or, at least I understand the need of some people to own guns.

But you go to a rural place like Galt, and lots of homeowners have guns. Heck, many homeowners in Galt are police officers.

An agent tried to enter a short sale listing of mine in Galt last night at 9 PM. This home is in escrow. The agent didn't call, either. This is wrong on so many levels. My seller almost shot the agent, too. She was home alone with young children when her door knob started to jiggle. That would freak me out, for sure.

What part of active short contingent doesn't an agent understand? How difficult is it to understand showing instructions that read: Call First, Lockbox? I sent the agent a printout from the Supra lockbox and notified the broker, too. That agent could have been killed!

Here is a short sale that is not yet contingent. And it's showing instructions are Call First, Lockbox. This means you can call the seller, leave a message and go. It doesn't mean call the agent, but you're always free to call me if you have questions or just want to hear the sound of my lovely voice. As an agent who specializes in selling homes in Land Park and throughout the Sacramento area, I am almost always available, and I answer my phone.

If you've always wanted to buy a home in Land Park but could not afford Land Park prices, this home is truly affordable. It needs a little bit of work. It could probably use a new roof or at least to repair the roof over the hallway where it leaks. If this were my home, I would gut the bath and remodel it. I remodeled my bath after tearing it down to the studs for about $15,000.

It has two bedrooms, 1 bath and hardwood floors mostly throughout. There is a breakfast nook in the kitchen. The family room has a fireplace. The back yard is enormous. It's a Certified Wildlife Habitat, with actual certification from the city of Sacramento. This is the type of neighborhood where the neighbors all know each other. And it's situated very close to the railroad tracks, which some people love and some people could pass on.

2137 Bidwell Way, Sacramento, CA 95818, is offered exclusively by Lyon Real Estate as a short sale at $150,000. For more information, call your Land Park Agent, Elizabeth Weintraub, at 916 233 6759. For a private showing, call Linda Swanson at 916 607 0111.

My eyes tear up every time I watch a video or see a picture of the WTC on September 11, 2001. I'm not much different than anybody else in America. That tragic event has affected every single one of us. No one was left untouched. Not one person. I don't care who you are or where you live, September 11th has changed all of us.

I was at the doctor's office the morning of September 11, 2001. I don't listen to the radio, so I didn't know what had happened. Nobody watches TV at the doctor's. The doctor took a blood sample from me to do an FSH test. I would not know the results for several weeks until I received a very short, brief letter from my doctor. It said simply: You are no longer able to conceive children. That was pretty abrupt and insensitive, I thought.

It's not important what else happened to me that day because I was in Minneapolis. I was not in New York. But my heart was in New York. And the days that followed made me think. I thought about where my life was headed, what was important to me, and what I wanted for the future. I believe many Americans had similar thoughts over the days and months after September 11th. We are all connected. I think Tom Shadyac is right.

One morning in January of 2002, I climbed out of bed and instinctively knew what to do. I needed to go back to California. I had been living in Minnesota for 10 years or so, but California was where I belonged. My husband was in shock when I told him the news. I don't know why. I guess because he had only known me in Minnesota. He did not think about my connections to California. I never really wanted to leave California in the first place. I had no choice when I left.

But now I had the power to choose to go back to California.

Our home had tripled in value. Thank goodness for real estate. We had the financial means to go. By summer our home was on the market. Shortly after that, my mother suddenly died. It was definitely time for me to leave the bitter cold winters with 50-below windchill temperatures. By early October, we moved into our new home in Land Park, Sacramento. Because of September 11th, this Sacramento short sale agent and her husband are now living in California.

Did you know there is a full pull-out section in the Sacramento News and Review that is devoted to pot advertising? Even more astonishing, I suppose, is the fact the Sacramento Bee now allows medical marijuana ads. I sort of feel like Rip Van Winkle who fell asleep in the 1960s and woke up 40 years later to discover that all of his stoned-out blitherings have come true.

This is stuff every pothead toked and giggled about in jest, yet here it is, a reality. Hash bars, free 1/8ths, U.S. Patents on bud strains. And one dispensary, MediZen, has its own mobile app where you can search for the pot deal of the day. The cost of pot today is outrageous. I was totally shocked. $400 an ounce! That's more than $6,400 for a pound. But the 420 evaluation is only fifty bucks. If you don't qualify, you don't pay, so I imagine everybody qualifies who applies. Unlike those who try to do a HAFA short sale. You might think you are eligible, but many Sacramento homeowners do not qualify. Many short sale sellers don't meet even the basic requirements.

Because I am a Sacramento short sale agent, I did not go to Hempfest '11. I simply do not have the time nor the inclination. But it sounded like fun. Hempfest '11 was a 3-day celebration of all things hemp-like on the marina somewhere in Sutter County. They charged an entrance fee and frisked grandmothers. It sounded like a good place to go to get a buzz, but not for me. Still, I don't begrudge those who do.

Naw, I'm one of those people who would run out the front door and shake her fist, yelling at kids trampling on my lawn. Ay, back in my day, we bought grass in little matchboxes for $10.00. You kids, you don't even know what a matchbox is, what with your butane lighters and blow torches.

My elderly neighbor was complaining a few days ago about the skunks in Land Park. She said the smell is horrific. We have some pretty big skunks in Land Park. The problem is basically my other neighbor who used to trap them has moved to Alaska, and she is renting out her house to a guy who bought one of my listings in South Land Park several years ago. It's a small world in Sacramento. He lost that home to foreclosure. As a tenant, he doesn't care about trapping skunks. Besides, he has a yippy little dog, so skunks probably don't come into his yard.

I told my neighbor that I really don't mind the smell. It smells like skunkweed. I also said that the reason the odor probably bothers her so much is because she does not smoke pot. She's obviously unfamiliar with skunkweed. She looked at me like I just landed here from Mars, but her husband laughed.

I'm wondering, though, if that Sacramento chicken law passes -- and I don't know why it shouldn't -- maybe if we got some chickens, that would keep the skunks out of the yard. What would be really ironic would be to plant our own little cannabis patch behind the garage and then have skunks tear it out. Who am I kidding? I don't even have time to put my dahlias in the ground.

I leave you with this thought: Loudon Wainwright says Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road was once the number one song in Little Rock, Arkansas, for six solid weeks. He says it never made it into the top 10 when he recorded it, and I believe him. That's because it's a stupid song. Smoke some pot and listen to it.