"Uncle... Uncle... I Give... I Give"

Remember when you were a kid - and some other kid would get you in a headlock and give you a "noogie?" If he was mean enough, he wouldn't let you go until you said, "Uncle." To this day, I don't know why that was the ticket out of the headlock, but it usually worked. Except with Johnny Calahan, that is, which was particularly yucky, because the guy drooled... a lot... I'm talkin' "need to change your shirt" drooling. Well, my blog reading friend, this real estate market is Johnny Calahan on steroids. We've been in his drool-enhanced headlock for nearly two years, screaming "Uncle... Uncle... I give... I give" - but Johnny doesn't seem to want to let us go just yet. I've been in Tampa this week and, according to their media over there - they are hurting more than most. The mystifying part of all this is the behavior of buyers. In Tampa... and Palm Coast... and San Diego... and New York... and Nebraska, etc., etc. It's a "Buyer's Market," but - There Are No Buyers. Nope. Nowhere to be found. Just a few bottom fishers. "Let's see, you bought it for $350,000 in 2003. It's worth $310,000 today. So, I'll offer you $195,000. Cash."

I read about a lady in Ormond Beach who is offering a 1998 Honda CR-V to convey with her house. "They can even have the dog," she said. Believe me, it sounds bizarre, but it's nothing much. I was selling real estate in Great Falls and McLean, Virginia, when the market crashed in 1989. One day everything was over $1,000,000. Then the next day it was "so not over $1M." I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that a scenario like this was not a stretch: "Beautiful 7,500 sq.ft. custom on 5 wooded acres. Price slashed from $4,500,000 to $3,950,000. Realtor bonus of $25,000 at closing with broker's permission. Two weeks in Maui at seller's condo free to purchaser. New Mercedes SL-350 to buyer for acceptable contract and closing before 12/31/1989." Now that was a crazy market... Then I get back to Palm Coast yesterday and the News-Journal ( http://www.news-journalonline.com/ )Business Section headline blares: "Area Target For Foreclosures." Great. Just great. It seems that we are in the prestigious "Top 500 Foreclosure Club." ( Check out this interesting YouTube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvV8yPy1nDw&mode=related&search= ) That can't be good for marketing. Eric Estrada and Garfield the Cat would be shocked. It sounds sooo different from all that "We're the #1 Fastest Growing County in the Country" stuff we got to say for a couple of years. Want some good news? It's usually this bad... right before we hit bottom... and things start to turn around. I'm thinkin' we're in the "Pre-Rebound" stage. Maybe not today, but I smell change coming. Soon. You'll know it's happening when you see real estate agents sniffing around SUV dealerships again... and going out to dinner more than once a month.

"If You Shoot For The Moon - You Better Not Miss!"

It's been said that "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Now I'm assuming that step should be in the right direction. If I'm in New York - and want to go to California - that first step should be heading West. Going East would obviously lead to frustration, in the form of the Atlantic Ocean. How about that "first step" for NASA on a moon launch? Accuracy really counts here. Aim "just a smidge off," say... one degree, and you miss the moon by thousands of miles. One of the silliest sayings I've heard goes like this: "When you shoot for the moon - it's OK if you miss - because at least you'll be among the stars." Are you kidding me? How about: "If you shoot for the moon - you better hit it - or you'll wander aimlessly in space til' you die:-)" Recently, a popular self-help book, by Richard Carlson, told us: "Don't Sweat The Small Stuff -- and it's all small stuff." The premise was "don't get caught up in things that don't matter, if you want to reduce stress and live a happier, more care-free life." The trick, however, is to determine what's important and what's not. Sometimes, you see, "the small stuff" is exceedingly important. My entire generation should be hung by our toes for the legacy of "The 60's." That's when being "laid back" became cool. It became a "catch-all" to defend all sorts of negative behavior. As difficult as it is to accept... and then act upon... the small stuff can be a real big deal. The Army taught me about details. I fought it, but The Green Machine would always win. Success really is in the details. As a new Captain, assuming my duties as a Company Commander at Fort Carson, Colorado in early 1974, I was told: "The commanding officer is ultimately responsible for everything his unit does... or fails to do." Now there's a load to bear. With a Divisional IG (Inspector General) Inspection coming your way, you'd never gather the troops around and say, "OK, men, don't sweat the small stuff. Let's be laid back and not get caught up in the details... Don't worry - be happy." This - in the face of some motor sergeant about to probe your jeep's tailpipe with a white glove, looking for exhaust soot? Don't think so. Want to know why I'm claiming to be some sort of expert on this topic? Because I've failed so many times, that's why. Submit yourself to a little scrutiny here. Have you enjoyed massive success in your relationships and career? If you have, let's meet, so you can teach me. If you've struggled, like most of us, read on. A new book, by John Trent, really hits home. Wish I'd seen it a long time ago. But you know that "the teacher appears, when the student is ready." Trent is on target with "The 2-Degree Difference." ( see: http://www.amazon.com/2-degree-Difference-Little-Things-Everything/dp/0805430644 ) Have you watched TV lately? There are several prime time shows that deal with obesity. Not in a clinical way, but with morbid, intrusive curiosity. The "subjects" are filmed every which-way and it seems like fun, when the fork lift comes to lift "The 1,000 Pound Man" onto the flat-bed truck for his trip to the gastric by-pass clinic. This phenomenon exists because we know how hard it is to lose weight. When we see these folks, we figure we're doing ok. Big Problems require Big Solutions - right? We need to make 180 degree changes in our lives - right? The problem is that most of us aren't wired that way. The author of "The 2-Degree Difference" has a lot to say about this. ( Also see: http://www.strongfamilies.com/ ) He tells of the obese fellow he met who followed the "2 degrees at a time method"... (like the old question, "How do you eat an elephant?" Ans: "One bite at a time.") The heavy man merely changed from eating two deserts a night - to one. Then only every other night. Then only weekends. Then he started walking a bit. Then more. You see where this is heading? At the end of one year, after making small, incremental changes, the guy had dropped 100 pounds... and to celebrate, he ran The Marine Corps Marathon, in Washington, DC. http://www.marinemarathon.com/Marine_Corps_Marathon.htm Back when New York City was "The Murder Capitol of the World," police started an initiative for "2-degree like" changes. Small things, like fixing broken windows, stopping the "squeegee guys" at red lights, and prosecuting subway "turnstile jumpers" had a huge effect on the communities, as a whole. Just like in banking and investing, it's a "compounding effect," where "small stuff" can lead to "big stuff." It works at home, too, guys (and gals). Try just opening the car door for her. It's so much better than, "Come on - get in - is your arm broken?" Or do the dishes. Or take her to a fancy restaurant... and hold her hand. Just those little changes can lead to better things. 180 Degree changes? No... they're often just too hard. 2 Degree changes? Easy...

"Crime Watch: The Evil of Open House Signs"

Darkness had fallen and only the darting insects could be heard above the wind in the palms.

I found myself being thankful for the combat experience I'd gained, as a Platoon Leader with the 196th Infantry Brigade in Viet Nam, all those years ago. When you need it, it comes rushing back. "Stay calm," I told myself, "others are counting on me." Black pants, shirt, shoes? Check. Dog tags taped for silence? Check. Camouflage sticks for my face and the back of my hands? Check. Cell phone, red lens flashlight, water? Check. OPEN HOUSE SIGN? Again, Check. In a nutshell... I was ready to engage my tormentor... in a reckless act of lawless disregard.

The Palm Coast city manager ( see: www.ci.palm-coast.fl.us/ ), you see, had told us Realtors of his vow to "go to battle" with those of us brazen and hardened enough to run rough-shod over the law... and wantonly post OPEN HOUSE SIGNS... flying in the face of the safety and welfare of the Flagler County citizenry. Jim Landon, it seems, doesn't have enough to do in his new job. So he is riding his pony into town from Texas, six-shooters blasting holes in OPEN HOUSE SIGNS. He went so far as to say, "It's something I'm passionate about!" Let me ask you this: "How, in the name of all that is good and holy, can anyone actually conjure up "Passion" over OPEN HOUSE SIGNS?" This fellow actually said he chose to accept a job in Palm Coast... partly because it didn't have a lot of "those little signs." Holy Lone Star State, Batman!

Anyway, my sellers needed me and I wasn't about to let them down. Twenty years as an Army Officer ingrains a "sense of mission." I crawled slowly out of the thick growth, watching and listening for signs of police patrols. It was time and I sprang into action. My breath came in short bursts and my senses were on high alert. Adrenalin coursed through my veins, giving me superhuman strength. Everything unfolded in slow motion and surreal imagery. But I did it. I really did it. I jammed an OPEN HOUSE SIGN into the ground at the corner of my seller's street. Then, feeling triumphant, I disappeared back into the darkness from which I had come.

The open house came on Sunday and we were successful in drawing several potential buyers... an offer may be coming in this week. But as for me? The Big House beckons. They took me down. "CSI: Palm Coast" found DNA at the crime scene, pointing to me as the perpetrator. Yeah, I admit it. I put that sign in... and I'd do it again.

For a petition to get this contentious sign issue resolved, see: http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/palmcoast/