Loren Keim

Hi,

I really hope you like this explanation of why now might be the best time to buy a home.

Please share it if possible!

Thanks!

Loren Keim

The real estate market moves differently around the country, but in the colder regions the primary marketing seasons tend to be the spring and the fall. In most parts of the country, real estate sales tend to slow down around the holidays. The market becomes sluggish the week before Thanksgiving and doesn’t begin recovering until after New Years. The slowest week of the year is often that week before Christmas when much of America is running around buying last minute gifts, or if you’re in my family, just beginning to shop.

Last year, I received a very angry call from one of our home sellers only a few days before Christmas. “Loren, have I not expressed to you how important it is to get my home sold as soon as possible?”

“I realize that you need to get the home sold,” I told him. We just put a great ad in the local homes magazine and updated the video tour on the Internet.”

“Then why do we have no showings scheduled for this weekend?” he demanded.

“I’m not sure that I understand you,” I said. “It’s only a few days before Christmas.”

“That’s right, and I don’t have a showing. Something needs to be done about it right away.”

“You have to understand that there are about five thousand homes on the market in your area right now,” I told him. “Five thousand families are trying to sell their homes this week and there are probably only a half dozen buyers actually looking during the holiday.”

But he remained unconvinced, apparently under the impression that we realtors have a list of people just waiting to buy anything that comes on the market, and I was reminded, once again, that one of the most interesting aspects of human nature is that we can fool ourselves into believing almost anything.

LIFE LESSON: Try to keep your expectations in line with reality.

Please check out my book "Life Lessons from the Back Seat of My Car" - it might make a great holiday gift!

Throw in the Garden Hose

A few years ago, I accompanied one of our associate brokers, Tim Mahon, on a listing appointment to look at a townhome in Allentown, the pricing of which would be relatively easy because several had recently sold in the neighborhood. The owner, Randy, met us at the front door and walked through the home, noting that it was fairly typical of the townhomes in the neighborhood. But when Tim explained that the house would likely sell very close in price to the next door neighbors, Randy’s mood changed.

He was offended that we would “even compare” his home with his neighbors. “My home is worth at least $25,000 more than his. Do you realize that the neighbor’s home still has all the rooms painted white? Mine has color! And the neighbor has regular closet bars. I had Creative Closets put in double racks in PVC. Also, I had a hose bib put on both the front and back of my home. The neighbor only had one put on the back. Plus, I’m planning to throw in the twenty-five foot garden hose.”

Tim actually lost it at that point. “The garden hose is included?” he exclaimed, laughing hysterically. “Wow. That’s got to be worth $5,000 to $10,000 in price. Why don’t we list this house $40,000 higher than the neighbors if you’re throwing in the garden hose?”

Needless to say, we didn’t get the listing.

LIFE LESSON: Try Not to Laugh... Until after you leave!

The Pusher, the Kids and the Gun

There seems to be drug trafficking even in the quietest of areas. Sadly, too many people seek an escape from their lives or their reality by way of substance abuse which often becomes the tool of the user’s own destruction.

On a cool autumn afternoon in my old neighborhood, I found that a teenage supplier was giving away samples, stickers that could be licked to produce a high, to elementary school age kids. My guess was that the pusher was trying to either make them habitual or addicted users.

In either case, I was irate. Being somewhat irrational when angry, I proceeded to find the teenage pusher and show him the error of his ways in ways that are unnecessary to describe here. After all, there may be small children and nuns reading this book. Anyway, I was confident, after our little talk, that the pusher would never set foot in the neighborhood again, for fear of being permanently maimed.

Fast forward a few weeks. My friend and real estate associate, Joe Bartera, and I stopped, on our way to an appointment, at a Seven Eleven for a couple of sodas. We were driving a Dodge Monaco, which was a former state police car that I had purchased at an auction in Harrisburg. The car had a roll cage and was made of real steel rather than the plastic that automobiles seem to be made with today. Of course, it got the gas mileage of a tractor trailer with a full load, a dirty filter, and dragging two deer, but I digress.

Stepping out of the car, I had neglected to tell Joe that the passenger side lock didn’t work, and then, remembering, I called out, “Don’t lock your door.”

“Too late,” he said as the door slammed. “It’s locked and besides, my mother always told me to lock the car, even in nice safe neighborhoods.”

When we were leaving the Seven Eleven minutes later, sodas in hand, a full size sedan pulled up at a “T” behind my car and the drug pushing teenager that I had a chat with some time before popped out of the car, followed, more laboriously, by a large contingent of enormous gentlemen.

“That’s him,” he said, pointing at me.

“Crap,” I said, realizing they probably weren’t stopping by to congratulate me on my good works on behalf of society. Leaping into the driver’s side of the car, I started the engine and attempted to slam the door.

Joe dropped the soda and ran for the car only to discover that the lock didn’t open. Frantically, he began yelling obscenities that had never before crossed his Catholic lips, while I, managing to pop the lock and put the car into drive, waited for him to leap in. It was the sort of stunt you would probably never be able to pull off twice.

The goon who was closest to my door, as I floored the accelerator going forward away from the car blocking my path behind, had on what appeared to be brass knuckles. “Wow, I didn’t think those things really existed,” I vividly recall thinking as the car spun to the left toward the exit to the mini mart where another goon ran in front of the car and took aim with a gun. “A gun?” I thought. “Oh crap.”

More obscenities streamed from the passenger side of my car as this enormous man fired a single shot right between us just before I hit him with the car.

“Are you okay?” I shouted at Joe as we peeled out of the parking lot at high speed. When he didn’t respond, I glanced over at him and saw that he was white as a ghost, which was highly unusual for this typically tan Italian, but he didn’t appear to be spraying blood in any particular direction. That was good. I was fairly certain blood wouldn’t come out of the seat coverings.

Rather than take him to the hospital which I should have done, I took him to a nearby home of a friend, by which time, Joe had gone into shock. Once he had recovered, we debated calling the police and eventually decided against it, although we had been violently attacked, it was also true that I hit the man, almost certainly causing at least some bodily damage. And that did not even take into consideration the fact that I had roughed up the fellow who was supplying drugs to the local youth.

I also rationalized that the odds were good that the teenager didn’t actually know who I was or exactly where I lived, so if I were to report the crime and identify myself, the entire cartel could be after me.

Prior to that incident, the likelihood that a teenager pushing drugs would have a supply chain that would protect him had never occurred to me. After that night, thankfully, I was never bothered by them again, although I often looked over my shoulders for probably three or four years.

My mistake, looking back, was that I hadn’t handled the original situation correctly. I should have reported it to the authorities and I certainly should have talked to the kid’s parents and tried to help them without taking action into my own hands. I guess I read too many Shadow Novels and Batman Comics as a kid. Of course, I still love Batman. Who doesn’t?

Incidentally, Joe didn’t get in a car with me for nearly ten years after that episode. On the bright side, he’s still working with me today.

LIFE LESSON: Always think before you act. Your actions may have unintended consequences for you and for those around you.

Please check out my book "Life Lessons from the Back Seat of My Car" as a possible gift this holiday season!

What to do with One Bad Neighbor

There are times when the issue isn’t the neighborhood, the local economy, or a neighboring power plant. The problem is there is just one neighbor who is a slob. This neighbor has beer cans lined up along his front porch railing, a motorcycle on the front porch, a car under a piece of plastic in front of the home, and a strand of Christmas lights half hanging off the porch in July.

Unfortunately, you cannot move your home. The first thing you should always try is to talk to your neighbor honestly. “Hey, Paulie. I really like you, but I’m trying to sell my house and people are worried about who lives next to me. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re a great guy, but I’m getting negative feedback from people looking at my home. Is there any way you’d consider cleaning up the front yard? I’d be happy to help.”

Every once in a while, this approach works. It’s the easiest, the most direct, and the best to get a neighbor to make changes that benefit your sale. If the problem is junk in the backyard, it may be easier to handle by planting trees or large bushes or even spending a little bit extra and putting up a fence between the yards.

For Example: One of our recent situations involved a neighbor whose home was attached to our clients. The neighbor had a severe roach infestation that was bleeding over into our client’s home. Our client, Sue, was fastidious and her wits end. We approached the neighbor and asked if they would consider allowing us to pay for an extermination in their home in order to curb the bug problem. The neighbor slammed the door in our faces.

We had to move to stage two. We called the local health department, and she was temporarily removed from the home. During the removal, the property was completely sprayed and bags of old garbage were removed.

While this was an extreme move, it was necessary to correct the problem and sell our client’s house.

Another situation involved an owner who simply had car parts lying all over his front lawn in a beautiful area surrounded by very expensive homes. Buyers wouldn’t offer on the property for sale because they were afraid of the neighbor they would get. In reality, the neighbor was a very nice gentleman, but was a slob. Nothing would change that.

Our client and his friends, moving quietly in the middle of the night, boxed up everything on the neighbor’s front lawn and moved it to the back of his home. Please keep in mind this is illegal and is at the very least trespassing. However, it was an effective method of improving the view of the home when buyers first approached.

Each of these situations needs to be looked at on a case-by-case basis. If you have a neighboring property that is bringing down your property value, you may have to consider all the options before moving forward. Determine the impact of the neighbor. Try driving around the block and approaching your home as if you were a buyer looking at the property for the first time. Look at the home through a buyer’s eyes.