How this experience began: part 3

We were given 30 days to close escrow, with the removal of contingincies occuring at various periods of time within this month period, the first of these being the inspection one by day # 10. The ultimate goal of the inspection is the acquisition of data indicating whether or not the building is sound from: 1) a structural standpoint (e.g. is there considerable dry rot (visible dry rot, in many cases, being like a tip-of-the-iceberg indicator of the existence of farther reaching expanses of the stuff hidden from visible sight), are there any large trees growing close to the building (root networks having a particularly insidious effect on foundational structure in addition to a complete indifference toward underground plumbing), is there evidence of wood destroying pest activity (e.g. termite shit and/or dried up termite thorax hulls); and does the roof show signs of dilapidation (e.g. visible drooping or evidence of water leakage in the ceilings)); 2) a plumbing standpoint (e.g. do all toilets flush, drains drain (it is also helpful to, in addition to testing these during the inspection, ask the tenants about the existence of issues in the past) and is there both hot and cold water available); 3) an aesthetic standpoint (e.g. are there large holes in the walls, doors, windows, broken tile, dingy bathtubs, etc..(it should be noted, however, that the aesthetic portion of the inspection is far less important than the two preceeding it)).
Since it isn't usually the case that home buyers are also professional contractors familiar with the clues that indicate faults in any of the 3 above mentioned categories it is necessary that such an individual be hired to give the property a fine toothed combing. In our situation, the individual enlisted to complete this was my brother Justin who, while not a licensed contractor, has worked in the field long enough to know what clues to look for. He and Robin completed this in a 2 hour period one morning, the final conclusion of this inspection indicating that, to his trained eye, there were no serious compromises to the building's overall structure (there were, however, a number of aesthetic factors that needed to be dealt with if we ended up closing the deal).

How this experience began: part 2

Not long after the initial visit we were in contact with Shep letting him know that we would like to put in an offer on the property at $55k less than the listing price and it was at this time that Robin and I began to familiarize ourselves with the intricacies of the California Association of Realtors' form entitled 'RESIDENTIAL INCOME PROPERTY PURCHASE AGREEMENT AND JOINT ESCROW INSTRUCTIONS' (I will tell you now if you have yet to experience the tediousness that is reading and comprehending this document that there are more favorable ways to spend one's time). Here we were introduced to such jargon as 'contingencies,' 'Escrow,'Transfer Tax,'Home Warranty Plan, and 'Property Disclosures.' Once the arduous task that was familarizing ourselves with the document was completed we submitted this offer to the agents in person and were unexpectedly wrangled into a face-to-face meeting with the two of them (one being the aformention Middle-Eastern woman, the other a corpulent East European who seemed to take great pride in: 1) extolling his victories and spoils in the real estate game and; 2) pointing out everything that we'd done wrong in completing the offer (most of these errors due to subtle differences between the Bay Area and Sacramento Valley offer protocols), adding emphasis to these with a combination of highlighter markings (this writing implement looking more like a crayon between his vienna sausage fingers) and unnaturally loud mouth-breathing. The take home message from this meeting was that they would be getting back to us once they presented the offer to the sellers (it should be noted here that the general tone of the meeting was a negative one. We came away feeling that they didn't take us seriously and that we were basically pushovers and this didn't sit well with us.

The counter-offer came back with a price just $25k less than the listing one and included an addendum page that include such gems as:

1) The Wood Destroying Pest Inspection shall be the Buyers' responsibility.
2)The Sellers shall not pay the cost of the Home Warranty Plan.
3) Buyer Inspection Contingency shall be removed within 10 days.
4)All property disclosures provided on MLS shall be signed by the Buyers and delivered to the Listing Agent within three days after contract ratification.
Among others...

The seller's terms were agreed upon during a conference call between Shep, Robin, and I and the counter-offer was signed by the two of us and resubmitted to their (the seller's) agents and thusly was the Escrow machine set into motion.

How this experience began: part 1

For the purpose of context I suppose it would be appropriate--before getting too much further into the details--to provide you with a brief recollection of the memorable events that led to our acquisition of 991 39th St (I mean, it's not as though the property was just handed over to us no questions asked). As this was our first experience buying a property, we really didn't have a frame of reference against which to compare our buying experience but we were assured by individuals more weathered in this respect that it was an extremely difficult, if abnormal, one.

It started on a sunny day one weekend, Robin and I exhausted both mentally and physically from the extensive Tours de' Oakland that had accounted for the majority of our weekend free time and that were the direct result of our choice to be represented by the venerable 'Shep,' Father in Law and agent extrodinarre (also, there were particular economic advantages) instead of a local agent who would have done all of this leg work for us (in the latter scenario, our Tours de' Oakland would have consisted of visitings to properties right in line with our likings in terms of the price-location-size triumvirate, whereas, in the former one (the one we chose, that is) much of this touring consisted of driving up to a place--in some cases just to the edge of the neighborhood in which the potential property was located--and not even stopping, a quick apprasial of the area resulting in a verbal 'There's no way I could live here'. We parked across the street from the building--a three-unit job, white and rectangular--rising up from behind a brown fence and weeds standing a foot-and-a-half taller than it (the fence, not the building) in some places, the sidewalk planters bearing a proliferation of overgrown weed species and long dehydrated grass, and upon this initial apprasial I mentally categorized it along with all the other 'There's no way I could live here' properties (actually, I believe I said that out loud). We were there for a short amount of time before the agent who's name appeared on the sign met us, a swarthy middle-eastern woman by the name of ____. We made small talk while waiting for the other interested party to arrive and we got all the standard 'This is a great investment irrespective of the fact that it doesn't look like much now....' and 'This is really an up and coming neighborhood...' build-up-the-buyer type rhetoric and, in addition, learned some of the more significant details as to: 1) How she ended up in the Bay Area; 2) Her experience buying her first property; 3) How that worked out for her (in terms of monetary gain). After a 15 minute period or so, ____ came to the conclusion that the other party wasn't coming so we began our exploration of the units (all of which were occupied), beginning with the bottom 2 and then finishing with the upper. There was nothing that stood out about them, pretty standard for the most part, and the landscaping had been neglected to such a degree that where the lawn had once flourished was now a great-depression-caliber dust bowl replete with wizened tufts and loess-laced wind gusts (evidence the lawn's previous existence manifest in the form of visible, grid-like mesh that acts as a binding agent in sod). It was after the showing that we informed her that we were represented and this didn't scare her off (in our previous experiences this was when the agent would tell us to, basically, go fuck ourselves and that we were going about this process in the wrong way and that there were considerable benefits to working with somebody local, etc...). Amicable handshakes were followed by assuracnes of phone contact from our agent if we decided to move forward with the process.
To be continued...

Autism and Obsession: Ponderings of a Behaviorist

Please allow me a digression.......

Obsession is functional in as much as it's locus is some item or activity that benefits the individual devoting time to it. For instance, the autistic child's obsession with the repetitive spinning of a toy car's wheel would not qualify as a functional one by this defenition as the time spent spinning said wheel would be of no benefit to said child in terms of real life educational/exploratory play-experience even though it would appear that said child was enjoying it (based on affective display). In behaviorist terms, we would attempt to redirect this wheel-spinning behavior to some play activity or item that actually required spinning to play with appropriately and then praise the child for engaging in this, the ultimate goal of this redirection being the eventual extinction of the spinning behavior. Another way to handle this would be to redirect the wheel-spinning behavior to appropritate car-play behavior and then praise this, again, with extinction as the goal.

With consistency, such obsessions may be upset and a child can be taught to replace them with more functional ones and this is progress. Of course, this isn' t always the case. Take for instance an as-of-yet-unpublished writer obsessed with becoming quite the opposite. To remain consistent with our autism example, the obsessive behavior in this latter one would be writing and if the goal was to put this behavior in extinction then it would be necessary that it be replaced by some behavior "that benefits the individual devoting time to it ." In terms of real life, it may be appropriate to replace the nonfunctional writing behavior with a more lucrative one, and then reinforce/praise this replacement (in this case, lucre would be an adequate reinforcement). But of course this isn't as easy as it sounds. With autistic children spinning car wheels it is usually pretty simple to take the car from them, turn it right-side-up, and then model appropriate car play, even pairing this with "vrooom, vroooms" and "urrrrrrrchhhhhhes." But a fully grown man sitting at a computer desk working on a blog entry when in actuality he should be working on material development for an upcoming social thinking class poses a harder challenge, especailly if said man has a level of clout that affords him with a certain amount of immunity in terms of being questioned by supervisors/manegirial staff. In this case, redirection may not be effective. Instead, for this individual natural consequences are more effective and by natural consequences I mean submission rejection and perusers who tell you that your pieces just don't seem to 'work' but as is the autistic child, I am persistent in my obsession satisfaction and it will take many, many more rejections and nay-sayers to redirect me.

Adventures is Toilet Repair 2

Once the wax seal was in place, the johnny bolts were sercured (with enough patience I was finally able to find the right combination of bolt angle and bracket position that allowed me to secure the toilet appropriately), the base was caulked, and the water supply was reopened it was time for the moment of truth, the maintenance man's meeting with St. Paul, if you will. The depression of the handle would be the ultimate test of the job and it was indeed a pivotal moment in my burgeoning career as Mr. Whippo, homeowner, landlord. Another tsunami gushing forth would have done much in effectively crushing my confidence and, perhaps more significantly, draining my pocket book. Standing there with my left pointer finger on the handle, listening for the telltale sounds that would alert me to when the basin was full, I felt like the Enola Gay bombadeer having just recieved orders from headquarters to deliver the nuclear payload (e.g. increased heartrate, general spikes in physiological activity, etc..). With the depression of the handle I would be setting into motion a sequence of events that couldn't be taken back and that would either: a)verify my status as an able handyman or; b) verify my status as a worthless dilletante. Following the handle depression the bowl-water began it's characteristic whirlpool action and all the sounds issuing forth from it were pretty standard ones and as the bowl became more and more empty concluding with that gurgle that marks the transition from bowl emptying to bowl refilling, the floor was dry!! Success!! And I lived with this delusion for a couple days, reality coming back into play after noticing the fact that water still collected, this time not from the toilet's base but from some other source. It took a brief amount of exploration (Never have I been so intimate, so salicious, with the unit responsible for swallowing my wastes, so gentle, perceptively caressing it in search of the wet spot(s), close enough to really appreciate it's aqueous scent, seductively teasing it's rim with my stubbled chin....) to figure out that the bolts connecting the basin to the bowl were thoroughly rusted (the gaskets inside the basin having long since hardened) and that here was the source of this secondary leak. Anothe simple fix that required a hack saw and Sawzall as the nuts were thoroughly fused to the bolts. The floor remains dry.
That's all I gotta say about that...

Adventures in Toilet Repair

A properly functioning toilet is something that most of us probably take for granted. Just sit, shit, flush and, voila! The excrement is gone into the bowels of the sewer system. It is only when you flush and, instead of the water being sucked into the bowels, it is expelled onto your bathroom floor at the rate of a small tsunami issuing forth from the bowl's base that you are forced to begin to consider critically the inner workings of a toilet not as something that just magically works when the handle is depressed but as a series of interconnected functions that, when fully actualized, results in that magic.
--It should be noted here that the toilet has seen a pretty considerable proliferation in appelations over the years a few of which, just for the hell of it, are listed below:
1. Shitter
2. Water Closet
3. Can
4. Loo
5. Porcelain God
6. Crapper
7. John
8. Lavatory
9. Head
10. Camode
11. Potty
To name a few--
This was exactly the case in my most recent and significant situation involving our many-named bathroom denizen. It was morning, during our routine get-ready-for-work behavioral sequences. Robin had just finished on the potty when, after depressing the handle, she made this observation:
"I think the toilet is leaking."
And an astute observation it was. The tsunami was gushing forth at a rate of speed that, if not acted upon quickly, would have found it's way right into our living room. There wasn't much time to think: 1) turn off water source; 2) throw towels down. Before long a considerable portion of our towel population was thoroughly sogged, draped over the top of our shower doors and we were staring in contemplation at the double-crossing bastard. Now, being that my command over the toilet-repair-skillset was literally nonexistent (well, of course I can operate a plunger and reattach the chain in the basin to the handle if it falls off) my diagnosis of the problem was an improper caulking job at it's base. Just for confirmation I contacted my brother who has a better mind for such matters and it was he who informed me as to what would be necessary to fix the problem appropriately: It wasn't the caulking at all but instead the wax seal. A simple repair he assured me, especially since I was a college graduate and all, with parts obtainable at any standard hardware store for a cheap price.
With my wax seal kit in hand + the knowledge gained from a few "How to replace a wax seal" youtube videos I was prepared to complete the job. The original Johnny bolts were easily removed and when the entire unit was lifted off there was the sewer system's throat, indifferent swallower of feces and urine, delving downward into the darkness. In removing the old and rusted Johnny bolts it came to my attention that the metal bracket to which the toilet is secured by the aforementioned hardware was completly rusted through on one side which ended up making the job twice as difficult due to the fact that the metal wasn't strong enough to withstand the torque necessary to tighten the nuts. It took a couple attempts to get the toilet positioned properly once the new wax seal was attached in place and at one point a johnny bolt stuck to the gooey stuff when attempting one of these repositionings. And then, before we knew it, the thing disappeared into the sewer's throat. Foul smelling indifferent swallower! Fortunatley, it was caught in a bend and easily retrievable with a customized coat hanger but for a moment there a fierce, self-directed anger made itself known and I was close to just tossing the porecealin god into a garbage can and using the hole there on the floor in a manner similar to the toilets in Southeast Asia.
With some focus the job was finally completed, the thing was caulked to the floor, and now we eliminate like good Americans once again!

Memo from Mr. Whippo, homeowner, landlord

As a recent entrant into the world of home ownership, Mr. Whippo's state of mental well being has become intertwined with both the visual aspects of his property and happiness-with-state-of-living of the tenants occupying the other 2 units in the triplex he and his wife purchased. They (tenants) are kind people, he believes, happy to see such an eager and motivated young man take the reigns from the previous, indifferent owners. But, being the case that: a) the building isn't exactly modern in any sense of the word (for example, one is pretty hard-pressed to find level wall surfaces and true 90 degree corners within their 2 bedroom unit)and; b) the previous owners devoted absolutely no time to the place other than that required to maintain it's liviability to the barest of minimums (and it should be noted here that this barest of minimums is really a barest of minimums (for example, there are 5 doors in their 2 bedroom unit (doors being the barest of minimums)only 1 of which will close securely without having to grip the knob firmly and pretty much force the thing into it's jamb (this action resulting in a kind of barking sound that is the result of wood-on-wood friction coupled with thick layers of sickly cappuchino colored paint). So, what this amounts to is that Mr. Whippo, homeowner, landlord, and amateur with respect to home improvement skills, has his work cut out for him. Please stay tuned for episode one of Mr. Whippo, homeowner, landlord: Adventures in toilet repair.