Thomas McCarey

[This is a cross post from my primary blog http://therealestateloungechicago]

I thought of an old friend yesterday as we zipped through Rogers Park for a mid-evening jaunt to Best Buy last night.

Jerry Riggs, the kid who could (or thought he could) concoct anything from nothing.

You may know the type. Don't go down to his basement for fear that the hodge-podge of wires with q-tips and masking tape keeping them together will have you shaking your coffee cup until you head back to your own home.

Jerry was the kind of guy who, no matter what the destination point was had in mind a way to get there. I thought of him as I snapped the picture below on Clark Street as the guy atop a 20-foot ladder made into a 23-foot ladder with the use of something he probably found in the alley triggered a flood of memories.

And so, with grit, determination, a destination in mind and maybe just a little bit of crazy, our man lit up the ladder to emblazon the finishing touches on the newest taqueria ready to ply its culinary majestics on Chicago's north side.

As with Jerry so with my own dad. Jack McCarey, God rest his soul, was the proverbial jack of all trades and master of few. Wherever you look in his last home you will see the markings of a man engaged in projects without a blue print, all the right tools but a creative mind to make due.

And make due he did. Most of the time the Rube Goldberg creations worked (or at so we hope). A shim below a post keeps the structure balanced (mostly) for years at a time. The shelving units comprised of found objects still hold stuff in place with the old coffee cans years after dad continued his spirit's journey.

And so as I spied this valiant man conquering the heights on what can best be described as a contraption I tip my hat and say a silent prayer that the angels have their wings wrapped around him as he simply takes steps toward his immediate goal, as he does his job.

In a moment's time I will join him in the fray, taking my simple steps toward my goals as I make my way to an 11.30 showing of my East Village home at 1858 Race following it with an open house that I will conduct at 1728 Huron, another East Village home that, like its counterpart, offers an attractive price for a great Chicago home in a vibrant Chicago neighborhood.

It happened yesterday. Jackson asked to ride another kid's bike at "The Choo Choo Train Park."

And sure enough, with a little boost he continued on his merry two-wheeled path. It wasn't a trek across the Pyrenees but it was the start of what likely will be a lifelong love affair of the bipedal variety.

On the way home, skimming the ground on our "Blades," he asked the inevitable question, "Daddy, will you take the training wheels off my blue bike?"

Of course.

And so today marked the first official day of moving forward without training wheels. And what a first day it proved to be. With the grace of an arcing angel's wing, Jackson swooped to the left and to the right, extending gentle circles around and through the park at The Hayt School in Edgewater.

Training wheels are an awesome metaphor. We need them to lend stability on the front end. For kids training wheels are critical, letting them gain their balance, accrue confidence and get to the point where the training wheels can come off. Because at the end of the day the point of training wheels is to not have training wheels.

But the idea of training wheels much beyond single digit years is a bit of troublesome. This is especially true when it comes to finding somebody to help you find your new Chicago home or somebody to market the sale of your Chicago home.

A "training wheel" moment occurred last weekend when I showed one of my East Village homes to a couple who saw the home without their agent. They had a lot of questions that I answered. Toward the end of the showing they plopped down on a sofa in the lower level family room, admitted their agent was new and inexperienced and asked if it would be appropriate to have more than one real estate agent.

No, I said, one is really how many you should have. Just take care to choose the best one.

And make sure their training wheels are off.

Work.

Like pastors at the pulpit, real estate agents ply their trade on Sundays. And while our effort is not necessarily steeped in brimstone like some of the more fiery holy orators can be, for those among the flock who seek the edenic pleasure of the perfect home, the strain of the metaphor is lessened if just so.

I suppose too, a trusted Realtor can provide deliverance. Both of in the selling of this home and the buying of the next one. But the point in this ever-so-brief post is that real estate agents work on Sundays. Praise (insert deity of choice)!

Which is what I do with this clickety-clack of my fingers on my macbook pro here at The Real Estate Lounge Chicago and what I will do next as I host a Lakeview open house at 1716 West George from noon until 3p today.

Hmm, maybe weekly open houses are akin to confession. You know, where you visit your spiritual counsel to admit to faults and flaws and transgressions. Aah, but after the admitting comes the very essential and oft overlooked committing to redress.

Mending. Or amending, if you prefer. And while I am not sure if weekly open houses are a bit like confession who the confessor and the confessee are, I can say that the broth of the metaphor thickens when you consider that often in the Chicago market today there is plenty of redressing going on.

Just as the case with today's open house on George where the price has been reduced $250,000!!!

Wow, that was a three exclamation point expression!

So in compressing the price of this six bedroom and five full with one half bathroom home on a wide lot by a quarter million dollars the quite proficient and award-winning builder Stuart Rose has, so to speak, mended his ways, remedying them with a phenomenal price drop.

The question is whether a consumer will walk upon the scene and grant the builder absolution, finding a slice of heaven in the home and feeling compelled to call it his new home address. And while time will tell one point of surety is that like Johnny Cash (or some wayward evangelist) I will be on the scene in all black. And while I doubt the folks I meet will want me to hear their confessions I hope my gravitas regarding the Chicago market will allow them to view me in the light that my many clients view me, that of being the trusted advisor.

Plans? Stop by George and we can either begin or continue our conversation. Or call/text me at 773.848.9241.