P.of R. E.

  I think the next time I’m asked what I do for a living, I’ll reply, “I’m a Practitioner of Real Estate”.   And why would I consider doing this?   Because I am practicing as a professional, within a profession, just like a doctor.

  I don’t know anyone who would make an appointment with a doctor, go to the appointment, listen to the doctor’s advice, and then tell the doctor he was not only wrong, but expound upon why their own advice was better than the doctor’s, complain about the doctor’s credentials and fees and feel obligated to only pay the doctor a fee based solely on negotiation.  Think health care is an issue now!!??

    Do most REALTORS have a code of ethics?  Are they accountable to a governing body?  Are there laws in place to limit abuse of the code?   Are there laws which police the profession?

  Yes to all of the above.  Not only that, most professional realtors honestly want to earn a living while remaining honest and ethical.  I say most, because where humans are involved, there is always a minority who can’t be trusted.  How is this any different from any other profession?   

  Here’s the bottom line - your realtor most likely CAN be trusted to place your interests FIRST, and if not, you could easily find one from the vast majority who would be honored to do so.  After all - the customer really is the employer.

  And if your realtor gives you advice, remember to LISTEN carefully.  He really IS a professional. 

  If someone comes to me and really wants to buy a certain house, I can say, as can most professional realtors - if they decide to trust me and listen to my advice like they would to their doctor’s advice, and without suspicion - most of the time the house will sell to that customer.  And most of the time everyone will walk away happy.

  Yes, I, like most other REALTORS, am a professional. 

  What I am not:  entertainer, vacation tour guide or shady swindler looking for a cheap horse.  I am a professional.  I am not perfect - but I have promised always to do my best, all of the time.

  I wouldn’t take my Mercedes to the do-it-yourself-oil-lube and expect good mechanical advice.  I might get lucky, but is the risk worth it? 

  My advice is to trust your most important investments to true professionals, and no one else.

 

Why They Call It ‘Storm Mountain’

01/08/2007 – Storm Mountain (Colorado)

  I remember telling my wife (from California) that we used to have regular, winter snow in
St. Louis County, Missouri, where I grew up.  Why one winter I remember we had snow on top of snow until we had about 12” down!  How exciting!   Maybe we did experience ‘Global Warming’, because after my early teenage years I don’t remember much snow accumulation in the winters. 

  In early 2004 my wife and I moved to the Estes Park, Colorado area, Storm Mountain, to be precise – a dream fulfilled.  Somebody then told me that living in the Rocky Mountains ‘wasn’t for the timid’, but I thought that a predictable exaggeration.  One thing I did notice was that the weather system(s) in the mountains seemed to be characterized by extremes.  And since most of the extremes I observed were good ones, I guess I got spoiled.  The bone-chilling 30° of St. Louis County was replaced with the mild, Spring- like 30° of Estes Park.  I began bragging to out of towner’s that we had mild winters, and until a few weeks ago that was correct.    I live in a little mountain community called Cedar Park/Cedar Springs.  Both are interconnected and both are located halfway up Storm Mountain, or “Storm” to the locals. 
  Cedar Park and Cedar Springs are situated in little bowl-shaped enclaves, and have the bulk of Storm Mountain behind them to the west of the bowls.  Currently, the only way into or out of these communities is by the forest access road now conveniently marked Storm Mountain Drive, off of County Road 43.  We must really be hitting the big time – that new street sign appeared one day about 3 weeks ago, until then it was only marked by a Forest Access road sign.

  My weather bubble burst on December 20^th, 2006 when it began to snow.  Finally coming down at about 2” per hour, I began to realize what real blizzards feel like.  Not as much fun as I believed, and not nearly as romantic – more like a lot of work staring me in the face.

  Thankfully, this snow ended when I had no more than 3-4’ of it in my driveway, which unfortunately is about 85 yards long, and gravel.  My wife and I possess one snow removal tool among us – a good shovel!  It took us 5 hours, in 30 minute shifts, to clear 2 tracks to the road.  This task became very much like hard work-drudgery in fact, after the first 5 minutes.  By 1:00 pm we were officially “dug out”, but I still had to put chains on the front tires to get down the road and through the infamous switchbacks to safely reach Highway 34, a 3 mile drive.  Needless to say, I was praying for this experience to be an anomaly.  It was a long, long day.

  On the afternoon of the 28^th of December, I was showing property in Pinewood Springs, about 10 miles out of Estes Park towards Lyons on Highway 36.  I became somewhat concerned when it began to snow rather heavily during my drive to Pinewood, but I told myself that the multitude of tiny, miniature snowflakes wouldn’t be a big deal.  Afterwards, at about 4:30pm, the flakes were still heavy, but very large.  Visibility was down to about 150 yards in some areas of the highway, and 20 MPH seemed to work well for me if I geared down enough to benefit from my 4 wheel drive.  By the time I had started for home, I had already been in 2 ditches because the loose snow on top of the old ice was completely unreasonable.  I crept slowly towards home on Highway 34 out of Estes and finally reached the River Forks Restaurant at Drake.  I determined to 4 wheel it up Storm Mountain Drive without installing chains, since I was only a few miles from home.  I had also been out of cell phone coverage since leaving Estes, and I realized my wife would worry about me.  Not puting on chains was a bad decision, as most of them are when based on laziness.

  I made the first switchback, but the truck in front of mine came to a stop.  As I lost my momentum, I began sliding backwards into an abandoned car at the bottom of the switchback.  By this time it was completely dark, and the road I was sliding down backwards seemed even more awesome because on one side was the mountain and the other side the drop-off down the side of the mountain.  Faced with no good choices, I was overjoyed to rear-end the mountain and crumple my bumper.  It spun my truck around 180° and I then managed to steer my way back down to the restaurant parking lot where I determined to put on the chains I should have used the first time.  With my chains on, I finally made it home, arriving at about 7:00 pm.

  The next morning I found another 2-3’ of snow in my driveway, and was snowed in again.  A neighbor took pity on us and plowed us out with his tractor! 

  On the 5^th of January we had another 12-14” of new snow on top of the other snow.  We managed to drive through it on the way out of the driveway, thus packing it down for the return trip. 

  Then last night at about 8:00 pm the wind struck us with constant gusts of up to about 80 MPH.  *As I write this we have hard packed drifts of over 4’ the entire length of the driveway, and the winds are still blowing without let up. 

  All this and the winter is only beginning.  Folks that have lived here for over 30 years are shaking their heads and saying they haven’t seen anything like this before.  That’s not very comforting.

  However, after lying awake all last night wondering when my roof would be torn off, I do know one thing for sure:  I know why it’s called Storm Mountain! 

And it really isn’t for the timid.

* This turned out to be an 8 hour job (no neighbor this time!).

Decompression In The Rockies

  In the last few months I’ve been wanting to write about the lifestyle here in the Rocky Mountains and specifically, the areas that comprise the Estes Park real estate market.  These would include Allenspark, Meeker Park, Glen Haven, Drake (which means Cedar Park/Cedar Springs/Storm Mountain), and Pinewood Springs (addressed in the
Lyons postal district).

  I moved here from a bustling suburb of Kansas City, on the Kansas side of state line, and I took for granted that my world was cluttered with bumper-to-bumper traffic, constant sirens from emergency vehicles, 24-hours of traffic “white noise”  and lots of street crime.  I suffered from a normal dose of “urban paranoia” which I never even noticed – until I lost it in the Rockies!

  Probably most of you reading this come from a city larger than Estes Park, Colorado.  That’s not hard to do.  So maybe you can identify with my concept of urban paranoia.  Just imagine a small mountain community situated in a sense, in a geographic cul-de-sac.  The only viable reason for coming through Estes to go somewhere else is to access Rocky
Mountain National Park.  

  When I moved to the mountains I was pre-occupied with the move.  Most of us have moved several times by the time we hit middle age, and the process always tastes the same, or similar.  An early disparity in the process occurred when I had to park the rented 25 foot Penske at the bottom of the forest access road and take all my belongings to my new house in pickup truck loads!  A father of another realtor had a 3 member crew of house painters that were between jobs, so they helped.  None of the crew spoke English, but I’ve seldom seen a harder bunch of workers.  It was like being in a weird movie, but we finished in under a day and nothing was broken or missing.  Try that with professionals!

  My urban tendencies took another hit when I visited the Estes Park True-Value hardware store for the first time.  One employee was there, talking to a customer.  They were talking about the customer’s sister, who the employee hadn’t seen since high school.  This conversation lasted a long 5 minutes and I felt invisible.  Finally over, the conversation had a brief resurrection as the customer paused while leaving.  By this time I was crazy!  I only needed directions to the correct aisle and had almost 7 minutes invested without even being acknowledged!  However, when that customer finally succeeded in leaving, the employee greeted me amiably and spent nearly as long helping me – no hurry.

  I had numerous experiences for the first year I lived here that abrased the edges of my urbanity.  It took 18 months for me to realize that it had taken me 12 months to DECOMPRESS!  How good is that?! 

  Now I can spot the folks who are un-decompressed.  They stick out – walking advertisements to their lifestyles of urban stress.  My boss says we are selling a lifestyle more than anything else.  He’s probably right.

   The good news for me is that I can enjoy living it myself, while selling it to others.

Dis-Couraging Words..

  Well, here I am again, sitting in an Open House.  Unfortunately it’s slow enough that I have time to reflect…

  Swung by the office to pick up some supplies on my way to the open house and parked right out front was a van with a large bumper sticker.  Now, I’m not a bumper sticker kind of person, and years ago when I gave it a try, I ended up fighting the stickers to remove them, so I haven’t done any since.  I think I could make an exception for this one.  It said:

“THOSE WHO ABANDON THEIR DREAMS - WILL DISCOURAGE YOURS”

  Isn’t that something?!  Have you ever dissected the word: DIS-COURAGE?  Pretty obvious when I take it apart that way, isn’t it?  To lose or remove courage.  Much, maybe most of our lives are severely impacted by fear – or lack of courage. 

  Try to become aware of how many decisions you make that are based on some kind of FEAR.   If you are like me, you will be absolutely stunned at the size of this subtle monster!  I really don’t think of myself as a fearful person, but if I routinely make fear-based decisions I would have to qualify.  

  I talk to many people each day, and I’m sure you do too.  A large percentage of the ones I talk to are looking for houses with easy access to hospitals, or houses that are all on one level.  Many of the ones I never see in person tell me over the phone that they would never consider moving to this area of the country because they would have to change doctors…they have health issues and concerns.   Well I’m wondering, are the factual issues bigger than the concerns?  I doubt it.

  To distill it down – we live our lives in HOPE, not FAITH.  And while we are living in hope we are governed by FEAR.  Do you really need to question why there is so much dis-couragement or un-happiness out there?   Doesn’t it appear to you that maybe we are wasting a lot of our lives trying to vainly swim against the tide of our hearts.  Can millions of Americans be wrong – YOU BET!!

  So here’s my personal challenge to you – put your ship in motion and aim it at the boundary of your comfort zone.  Any speed will do.  Remember, the rudder only works when the ship is moving…

“THOSE WHO ABANDON THEIR DREAMS - WILL DISCOURAGE YOURS”

FOLLOW YOUR HEART – LIVE YOUR DREAMS! 

  You only have one life to live, so get out there and find enough courage to really do it.

John

Conveyor Belt - Life On The Fast Lane

  I used to think that by the time I got to Colorado there would be nothing left for me.  Having lived here now for over 2 years, I’ve re-thought that thought into the Conveyor Belt - Life On The Fast Lane philosophy.

  Now I view life as our progression on a conveyor belt as it slides across the table top of our earthy existence.  We step on the belt, slide across the table top, then fall off the other side.  Of course, there are individual belts moving at different speeds for each of us, so some of us don’t get to spend as much time on the table top as others of us, but the point is this: no one gets to stop or stay on the table - everyone is in motion, every moment, and everyone falls off eventually.

  So it should be obvious that there is room (or soon will be) in Colorado, for you, too.   Where do you want to spend your time, while you still have it?

John

The Golden Rule - or - Yes, Gold Really Does Tarnish

  While vitrioliking my way through this morning, I may as well comment on the subject of the Golden Rule.  The so-called Golden Rule should re-focus our view off ourselves and onto others.  (And no, I’m not going to quote it or give the biblical reference - you know that already, I’m sure).  

  Well, here’s the quote I so often think of, unfortunately, “It’s always fair, unless it happens to you.”

  Question:  Which quote applies to you most of the time?

John

10% Optimism

  Today I’m reflecting on something my father told me over 40 years ago.  My dad was a manufacturer’s rep, aka: traveling salesman.  He had a 5-state territory of Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Illinois and Iowa.  He sold “housewares” to department stores throughout the Midwest, and was gone more than he was home.  While he was off on one of his 2 week trips, numerous boxes of samples would arrive on our screened in porch in good old, Webster Groves.

  We never had lots of money, but enough to pay the bills.  I grew up spoiled in my affluent community, and didn’t even know it.  As a teenager, I failed to appreciate my dad - after all, he was seldom home (or so it seemed), and even when he was home he would spend 10 hour days trying to interest department store buyers in his products. 

  I have to admit that along with not appreciating my dad, I really didn’t like the products he was selling.  After a road trip, my dad would unpack the boxes of samples that we had stored up for his arrival.  Out would come frilly, lace covered boxes designed to fit over Kleenex boxes, complicated, little cheap pine wood mirrors for the bathroom walls, numerous types of tasteless, kitchen canisters (I still find the name, “Lee Ransburg” on the bottom of antique store canister sets, and it chills me to the bone!), and other equally tasteless products for the average American housewife of the 50’s.   I can tell you firsthand how socially traumatic it was to be the son of a then, modern-day peddler!

  One day while I watched my father get ready to lug his 40 pound briefcase all over downtown St. Louis, I asked him how he could be so cheerful about spending another long day going store to store trying to sell the garbage he called housewares.  I’ve never been able to beat around the bush…

  My dad just smiled and dumped his philosophy of sales on me - something of infinite value that I didn’t appreciate at the time.  He said, “Well, when I get up in the morning I figure about 90% of the people I contact today will say ‘No’ - I’m looking for the 10% who will say ‘Yes.’ ”

  At the time, I felt it was a stupid answer, but I am realizing now, over 40 years later, how wise his answer was.  Truly amazing how smart he got as I got older! 

  I’m also reminded of the time my mother took me on the annual clothes buying spree that always preceded the school year.  She’d buy everything, from slacks (no bluejeans in my school!!) to new winter coats.  I figured we really didn’t have much money to throw away on clothing, and I told her so.  Her wise saying went like this, “It’s important to know when to save and when to spend.”  Again, it has appreciated in value for over 40 years.

  I’ve never started out in business before, so when I began selling real estate several years ago I actually thought I would make a lot of money quickly.  What I found was that I was spending (we call it “investing”) money quickly while making none.   For the first year and a half I was depressed watching others succeed while I was just marking time, then one day a ray of light hit me head on - I was truly the most unthankful person I knew, and it was crushing to see it so clearly.

  I’m still not getting rich quickly, but I’m much happier - and genuinely.  I’m learning to be very thankful for everything I have and everything I have been given.  I realize now that since I really didn’t bring anything into the world with me, everything I have has been given to me in one form or another.  And I am thankful for all of it.

  I’m old enough now to begin reminding myself of my dad.  That can be a shock!  I’m looking for that 10% everyday - all I have to do is plow patiently through the other 90%.   And every now and then I buy my wife a meal at a restaurant, whether we have money or not - it’s important to know when to spend.

  I never wanted to grow up and be a salesman; ever!  A worse fate I never could imagine!  Yet here I am, sitting behind my computer and calling folks to see if they want to buy what I’m selling.  Maybe something else my dad told me over 30 years ago applies: 

  “Like it or not, everyone sells something.”

John

At What Price?

  Today I’m wandering through emotions of grief.  Someone else I know and like has had their name added to my Deception list.  It’s not difficult, unfortunately, to get added to the list - but it is difficult to get taken off.  In my mind, I catalog those “friends” or associates of mine who I know to be liars, and I place them on my list of deceptive, or potentially deceptive people.  This doesn’t mean I cease to like or respect them, but it does mean that they are henceforth unreliable to me.  And that’s so sad it causes me to grieve; very much like losing a friend.

  You might ask, “What do you mean by ‘liars’”?   Now, doesn’t it seem odd that the question would even arise?  We all know what liars are, but we routinely discount the “little” lies.  Maybe we do this because we have all been guilty of lying at times, and we don’t want to condemn ourselves.  Many years ago, in another life, a cop friend of mine told me that we only feel comfortable enforcing the laws we ourselves obey.  It’s sad, but most of the time that is true. 

  I don’t think most of us would be offended by a jaywalker - because we’ve all done that before, but I would be concerned if we discounted murder for the same reason.  I think you get my point. 

  The truth is, there are small lies, big lies and gigantic lies.  There are lies that probably don’t affect anyone but us, but in all cases, when we lie we are liars.  And if I lie a little, just for convenience, what are the odds I would do so if more were at stake?  I think the odds are pretty good, and that’s why I placed this person on my Deception list today.  The lie wasn’t big, and it probably really wasn’t important to anyone, but in my eyes it destroyed the integrity of my friend. 

  And if you haven’t painfully discovered it yet, as I have, once lost, integrity is nearly impossible to regain.  How come we so easily place our integrity at risk by using little lies?  Why is this habit so natural to human beings? 

  My friend lied for convenience.  The truth, if told, would have been a little harder to state, but not much.  I’m sure it seemed easier and more efficient to lie under the circumstances, but at what price?

  So, I now have a liar for a friend.  It really should grieve me because from now on, I’m always going to question when this person is telling the truth.  I also know that once the little-lie hurdle has been crossed, the bigger lies follow.  Unchecked, this habit will spill over into the job environment because it becomes part of this person’s character.

  I believe that without due vigilance and the willingness to make tough decisions, none of us are any more naturally reliable than my friend.  While this incident has been grievous to me, I am using this example to firm up my resolve to maintain my integrity - no matter what.  

  Do yourself and your friends a favor today - vow to keep your integrity, no matter what the cost.   The wisest person in the world once said, “If you are faithful in a little, you will be trusted with much.”  In spite of the world system we see all around us, it really doesn’t work the other way around.

John

Just Another Day In The Rocky Mountains

  This morning I watched the sun come up east of Storm Mountain.  One minute the clouds were tinged with pink and a few minutes later they were ablaze with gold, red and orange.  Truly magnificent.

  Over breakfast and looking out at my deck, I watched hummingbirds swarm around my 3 feeders while I kept an eye on my birdfeeder.  On the birdfeeder this week I've seen the brightest goldfinches I've ever seen, along with a lesser goldfinch and a black-headed grosbeak.  Always an adventure. 

  Leaving home, I drove the 2.1 mile journey down the forest access road to county road 43 and almost ran over a great big buck mule deer standing in the roadway.  He had a very large, 10 point rack covered in velvet, and he was staring into the woods across the road at another deer just as big.   

   Then, driving to Estes Park up Big Thompson Canyon (Hwy 34 out of Loveland) I saw a mother big horn sheep grazing alongside the highway with the smallest big horn sheep baby I've ever seen.  A few miles further on I nearly wrecked the truck when I failed to see the huge bull elk standing at the edge of the highway until I was alongside.  He was very large, very still, and had a gigantic, velvet covered rack towering above his head.  He really did seem the same color as the beautiful ponderosa pines in the area, so he blended right in! 

  Finally I arrived in Estes through what I call the gateway rocks and the mountains hovered above me as I drove west on the main drag. 

  Later I was driving to my wife's office for lunch and the car in front of me (California tag) came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the narrow street.  Good thing I usually don't tailgate.  I finally figured out what the problem was - this carload of tourists had seen an elk grazing in someone's front yard next to their car, and it was special enough to them that they just stopped and looked.  Well, by this time I was upset that folks drive (or don't) that way, but later as I thought about it I figured I should write about the incident, because for some reason I took all of the above incidents for granted, and I remember a time not too long ago when I would have stopped in traffic for an elk.

  All these events I've described happened just as I stated.  And this is a very normal day for me in this part of the Rockies.  Whatever happened to my sense of awe and wonder, and just downright thankfulness that I can even be having days like this? 

  This reminds me of the old quote, "Familiarity breeds contempt" (or at least complacency).  I am disappointed in myself.  I now take for granted what so many people would call their once-a-year vacation.  That's so sad!

  Several days ago I emailed a sunrise photo I took from my living-room window that morning to a fellow realtor in my office.  I told her I got up early looking for a silver lining, but found gold instead.  She replied, "That's beautiful - there are many reasons why we live here."

  I think that pretty well sums it up.

John

Unique, Just Like Everyone Else…

  Are you old enough to remember the hippies of the 60's?  Remember how they all wanted to be unique?  Almost sad how they invariably looked just like all the other hippies!

  In our souls we all yearn to be unique, but most of us yield to the illusion of safety offered by the crowd.  We too often allow the spokesmen of our society to form our thoughts and attitudes, yet we increasingly suffer from laziness, particularly mental. 

  I would like for network news to cease the endless editorializing.  What's so hard in just reporting the news and letting us make up our own minds?  It's a control issue, and inwardly a secret part of you already knows this.  Don't you sometimes find yourself angry at being just another government cow?  What will they do with you when you run out of milk?  I think you know the answer to that one, too.

  My brother the social militant, seems to voice the opinion that citizens with guns will keep America strong.  I used to espouse that line, but now I think we don't have enough collective guts in this country to be a viable threat to any kind of tyrany.  First, we would have to do enough independent thinking to identify it. 

  Sometimes and sadly, I see us as a long line of lemmings being systematically moved to the edge of the cliff.  Along the way we are robbed and enslaved, and by the time we reach the cliff we have totally lost the ability or desire to indeed be unique, and have become like the hippies, just like all the others. 

  Look at nature.  How much "sameness" do you see?  Other than enough similarities to see the groups, nothing is the same in nature.  Absolutely nothing is identical.  Think of it - our very own planet screams that we are unique, even while we struggle to maintain the comfortable "sameness" pushed on us by our society.  

  With this in mind consider the Battle of the Sexes.  We never really got very far from our playground days (show me yours and I'll show you mine…).  Oops, I think I just distilled most Hollywood plots!!

  Guess what?  Men and women are indeed different, and no amount of understanding or sensitivity is going to make it any less diametric.  We are different.  Period.  Sometimes very different.  Why do we think this needs fixing?  Here's another news flash for you:  we were always supposed to be different - and it was supposed to be a Good Thing.  Some wise person once said that although he didn't understand electricity, it didn't keep him from enjoying it. 

  Well, I don't understand a woman's viewpoint sometimes; at all, but just maybe the fact that they are different I should consider a blessing, rather than a curse.

   So here's where this gets me:  within the limits of safety and agreed upon moral standards (yes, we really do need them), why can't we try to enjoy the differences rather than fight the battle to control them?  If you believe in Creation I think you must end up here.  And if you don't believe in Creation, ask yourself this:  how come with all our advancements, our human natures have remained unchanged over the centuries?