Funky Friday: A Little Background

 

Before my midlife crisis, and going to law school, I spent 15 years doing sales, marketing and project management for home builders in central Florida. Plowing under frozen out orange groves to build homes for naive New Yorkers. 

A few stories from those decades come back to me from time to time. 

Out in Wekiva we had built a home for a young couple. It was their first home. The house was finished, they been out for a final quality control check and orientation. They had signed off on everything. The transfer of ownership was scheduled for first thing the next morning. The phone rang with surprising news, on the way back to their rental, the wife announced she wanted a divorce not a new house. They were cancelling, not going through with purchase.  She had thought that building a new house, would be a new start, that it would bring her happiness, and it didn't. She didn't want a 30 year mortgage, she wanted a new husband. (Not that there appeared to be anything wrong with the one she had.) 

An additional story on that house.  I was in the office late one afternoon, when Shelby the painter stopped by. He said, "there is no easy way to say this, we just painted that house the wrong color." He had paint on the truck for a couple of houses, and the crew had opened the wrong paint. I said, "let me talk to the buyers." The buyers stopped by later that evening, and I simply said, "that paint color looks great with the stone work." They agreed. I smiled and called the painter and said, "they love the color, no reason to repaint it."  It helped to do favors for the tradesmen when I could. 

A few months later, I was walking a house under construction, checking on progress and details. It was Florida, so it was raining.  I stepped out onto the terrace, and the trim carpenter and the lumber salesman were standing under the overhang smoking marijuana.  They had a shocked and embarrassed look on their faces. I simply said, "good afternoon guys" and walked away. A few months later I was building a house for myself, I asked for a few little upgrades in the woodwork and details, that were graciously taken care of, no extra charge. 

In that house I asked for some detail work in the bathroom tile. The shower in the master bedroom was a real work of art, the tile setter did a wonderful job. The tile work in the hall bath was a little wonky, off a little here and there. And I knew why, a dozen beers were consumed between starting the first one and finishing the second one. And I didn't care, I was "homeless." I had sold the house I was living in, put the furniture in storage and moved in with my middle brother. I wanted the house finished as fast as possible. I built it in 71 days from the permit being issued to moving in. Not a record, about a month ahead of average. 

On that same house, the mason put the wrong color of brick on the planters. I called in the favor with the painter, and changed the paint color at the last minute rather than take a delay to change the brick. 

The fastest I ever saw a house finished was about 4 weeks. It was a small house, but still this was fast. The buyers had elected VA financing meaning they had less than $1,000 in cash needed. And VA required the lender to offer mortgage life insurance, meaning if the buyer died, the house was paid for. What I didn't know, was the buyer had terminal cancer. He died a week after the family moved in. I have long suspected that the construction manager knew, I didn't. He was a good guy.