Love's Real Stories

My buddy Ryan texted me: “Hey Doug, long time no talk. Hope you’re doing well. Please say Hi to Coral for me. I need some advice on selling our family’s land north of Chico.”

I love hearing from Ryan, because he’s always excited to talk about anything and everything, and he’s well-informed about lots of things. Coral and I met him fifteen years ago when he sold us a car. He loves to talk about cars. (“Who would guess the combustible engine could evolve into this affordable and quiet car with features of luxury and comfort that make driving a constant pleasure?” he said. “The Industrial Revolution! Amazing!”).

He had an idea to open a pet store. He loves to talk about animals. (“Just think,” he said, “I could help put smiles on the faces of thousands of kids who come get a new pet! And they will learn the responsibility and care it takes to raise a beloved animal friend!”). He became the guy in charge at the local radio station for putting together radio ads. He loves to talk about broadcasting and media markets. (“The reach and the power of the radio only gets stronger and better all the time!”).

His voice is big and fast and excited. He signed me up for a series of radio “spots” advertising our Real Estate company. He voice-recorded those spots for our ads. He toned down his big voice lower and slower and smoothed it out for the airwaves. 

“Man,” said one of our Agents, “Who did you pay to voice-over our radio ads? He sounds like the ‘Most Interesting Man in the World!”

Ryan also loves land and buildings and houses, and he loves to talk about Real Estate. (“My Grandfather made all the right moves,” he said. “Brilliant! He kept buying Real Estate and he built half the town up there!”)

I texted back: “Ryan! Way too long! Let me dig into the information about your property and try to figure out your best move. Be well, my friend. Can’t wait to dine with you again.”

The last time I dined with Ryan, as I remembered, was a few months ago. We met for lunch at the Raw Bar sushi restaurant and he signed me up for that Real Estate radio advertising contract. And he told me about his family’s land. “This is the last undeveloped 50 acres my Grandfather left our family. It’s a beautiful piece! But you gotta have the vision! That land has waterways and greenways and needs to be developed the right way!” He was thinking maybe he would try and work on developing it himself. 

I called him. “Hey! I said, “maybe we should meet at the Raw Bar, like we did a few months back, and talk about that land of yours.”

“Dude,” he said. “That was not a few months back. That was before the Fire. Like a year and a half ago. Before I moved away.”

Wow. That long ago? Uh-oh. Camp Fire. Moved away? Oh yeah, now I remember, he lived in Paradise.

“Did you lose your house?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said, “Moved out here to the family hometown outside Rochester, New York.”

“Sorry,” I said. 

“Hey,” he said. “when doors close, other doors open! I bought a 2000 square foot home here for $132,000, got a job managing two radio stations. We’re gonna buy land at $2500 an acre, raise animals and grow crops. It’s actually very exciting!”

“Wow,” I said. “Sounds great, but I hate losing good people from our area. The Camp Fire does it again. How long did you live here in the Northstate?”

“Forty years, my man! My whole life.”

“You should come back here and work on the family land you’re talking about selling.”

“Not happening,” he said. “We’re gone.”

“I hate losing good people,” I said.

“We’re not lost,” he said, “but we are gone.”

I hate that.