Love's Real Stories

December 14, 2019

Roof Respect

I climbed up on my roof again last week to clean the gutters and blow off the leaves. Every time I take the ladder and lean it up against the roof edge to make the climb, I hear inside my head the impatient voice of John James Miskella, roofer extraordinaire.

“Don’t EVER lean the ladder against the roof edge!” He would say. “The roofing material hangs over for a reason. It’s the drip edge! The drip edge sheds water. If you crush it with the ladder, you lose the edge. You make a nice place for water to seep under the roofing and begin its insidious soaking of the sheathing and rafters. Then what do you have? DRY ROT!”

Miskella got into my head about 30 years ago and stayed there. John James and his dad before him installed the roofing on a large percentage of the houses in Chico from the 1950’s forward. John James was the guy Realtors like me called to do roof inspections for home buyers.

“Lean the ladder against a side wall or a fascia board, for crying out loud!” said John James. “And cover the tops of the ladder rails with fabric so you don’t mark up the siding or the fascia boards.”

Miskella’s ladders had raggedy t-shirts duct-taped to the tops of the ladders.

“Happy Homeowners just don’t RESPECT their own roof!” said John James. ‘Happy Homeowners’ was term Miskella used to reference to amateurs like me, who in his mind are the enemies of the roof.

“They treat roof work like yard work,” said John James. “They run all over the place, dragging their tools here and there, tearing up the roofing material like a bull in a muddy field!”

John James would shake his head. “And they stomp all debris into the roofing material causing irreparable damage.”

“And now we have to contend with these satellite and cable tv installers!” he said. “They care less about their heavy foot traffic and dragging their stuff all over the place than the Happy Homeowner!”

He shakes his head again. “NO RESPECT!”

At a house in the Avenues in Chico one summer day, I met John James Miskella for a roof inspection. He hopped out of his battered, tar-stained pickup, and began his survey of the place.

“Uh oh,” he said with quiet concern. “We have a real Happy Homeowner here.” A ladder leaned up against the roof edge, perhaps a permanent fixture. The drip edge of the roofing was crushed in various spots from ladder placement.

“New satellite dish up there,” he said with increasing alarm.

In practically one motion, Miskella flipped the ladder off his truck, stood it next to the house, raised the extension, and lightly leaned the tops of the rails soundlessly against the sidewall. He scampered up the ladder to the roof like a cat. I lumbered up behind.

“Walk like this,” he said. “Keep your feet flat. Small steps. Don’t skid!” John James Miskella was a big guy, but he traveled the roof weightlessly, stooping now and then to carefully touch the surface.

“Too late,” he said sadly. “In the summer they skidded their feet and ran all over the place mushing up the warm, soft roofing. In the winter they came back up and stomped on the little ridges they created and cracked ‘em open.” He kneeled and laid his hand on a cracked area as if he were trying to heal a wound.

“They killed a perfectly good roof,” he said.

John James glared at me. “I have a message for all your Happy Homeowners,” he said.

“Okay,” I said.

“Tell ‘em John James Miskella says to give their roof some RESPECT!”

December 11, 2019

Going Downhill

Every Fall people ask if I’ll print “that story about the roofer guy.” The guy is John James Miskella, local iconic roofer of days gone by, who died 6 years ago. Here’s the story, and here’s to John James:

“Think like a roofer!” said John James Miskella. John James took it personally when people mistreated their roofs. We stood in front of a fifteen-year-old house I sold and John James had just completed the roof inspection. “See all those leaves sitting on that roof?” he said. “Leaves are acidic, dang it, acidic! The acid eats through the mineral coating, destroying the shingles. I can’t believe people let layer after layer of leaves pile up and destroy their roof!”

John James shook his head as he slid his extension ladder onto the lumber rack on his truck. He stopped mid-slide, and said, “Don’t people understand? The roof is our first line of defense against the elements. Roofers like me take great care installing millions of shingles for the people’s protection! One defective shingle and you get water seeping into the sheathing and rafters, rotting out the framing, and then dripping into your house! Look at those leaves piled up there. This moron single-handedly turned a thirty-year roof into a fifteen-year roof just by ignoring simple maintenance.”

I thought smugly of myself sweeping the leaves off my roof with my push-broom, a commercial variety, with a wide brush made of stiff bristle. I could move a lot of leaves with that broom. Even the deepest layer of leaves, the ones glued to the roofing, came off under the force of that commercial push-broom.

“Worse than the leaves are these idiots with their commercial push-brooms,” said John James. “They brush so hard; they rip the mineral coating clean off the surface and ruin their own roof! Idiots!”

I shook my head as if to say: How could there be such idiots?

Actually, I had recently obtained a commercial-variety leaf-blower which made the job even easier. The leaf-blower made it possible to blow leaves in all directions, not just downhill as with the push-broom.

“Worse than the idiots with their push-brooms,” said John James, “are the maniacs with their commercial-variety leaf-blowers.”

“Oh?” I said innocently, “How could a leaf-blower hurt the roof?”

He looked at me like I was an idiot. “Look,” he said, “these maniacs with their leaf-blowers push the leaves in all directions instead of the proper direction: Downhill!”

“So?”

“So?” he mocked. “So when they blow the leaves sideways and uphill, they force the leaves and grit under the shingles where it rots and destroys the most vulnerable part of the roofing. Can’t they see the shingles flapping under the force of the air from that machine?”

In my mind, I saw a picture of myself on my roof with my leaf-blower; leaves rocketing in all directions as I grinned maniacally, feeling the power of administering hurricane-force winds. Through the storm of leaves and grit I saw the shingles flapping like wings.

“So, what do we tell these idiots?” I asked.

“Trim the branches to eliminate leaves in the first place. Then sweep the leaves gently; or blow them gently: Downhill!” said John James.

He tapped the side of his head. “Think like a roofer!”

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August 28, 2015

Sink or Swim

Mel Watt is a man under fire. Mr. Watt is the Director of the Federal Housing Finance Agency (FHFA), which oversees Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, which in turn oversees most of the country’s home loans.

Watt is under fire because he is responsible for deciding whether to allow Fannie and Freddie to grant principal reductions for underwater homeowners, whose home loans are higher than the value of their house.

Despite improving Real Estate values, several million people are still in seriously deep water with little hope of reaching the surface any time soon. These people keep making their loan payments, but are stuck in houses they can’t sell and may inevitably fall into foreclosure or just walk away – unless their lender agrees to reduce the amount of their loan.

JoAnn Henderson, the subject of a recent news story, is underwater in her house which she bought in 2001. She refinanced her loan a few years later to a higher amount when her house appraised for $500,000. Her house is now worth less than $300,000 and she owes $450,000 on her loan. JoAnn got in trouble with her house payments when her employment changed and her income went down.

“I would miss a couple of payments, and then pay and pay,” she said. “And then I’d miss a couple more. Yeah, I almost lost the house.” JoAnn was granted a loan modification, which lowered her monthly payments, but she was not granted a principal reduction. She’s hanging in there for now, month-to-month, but still deeply underwater.

Joann’s situation is a typical example of the need for principal reductions, according to proponents who are firing at Mel Watt to make the decision to allow them.

“It seems like principal reduction is a logical no-brainer conclusion,” says a spokesperson for the Center for Responsible Lending. “FHFA’s own analysis found that allowing principal reductions on mortgages held by Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac could provide a potential benefit to these agencies, and a benefit to taxpayers. In addition, principal reduction is already being used routinely by other mortgage holders.”

An Opponent to the idea that I talked to said, “Why give a free lunch to people who over-borrowed and spent the cash?”

Financial advisers Collingwood Group, say too much money would be lost on principal reductions. “This money doesn’t come out of thin air,” says Tim Rood, Chairman. “So it’s going to have to come from taxpayers and investors.”

What should Mel Watt do? Tell underwater homeowners to sink or swim? Or should he throw out the life preserver?

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August 14, 2015

All Kinds

“It takes two to tango, babe,” said my old mentor KDV, “and it takes all kinds to make the world go ‘round.” KDV was referring to the diversity of people we encounter in the Real Estate job. Soon after, I found an example.

“So you work for The Man, huh?” said my new client Robbie Burns, as we drove toward a property he wanted to see.

“The Man?” I said.

“Yeah, The Man. You know, the Fat-Cats who run the corporations like your Real Estate outfit who are funding the Industrial-Military complex, destroying our natural resources and selling it off for billions in profit, all blessed by our conservative capitalist Government. The system is designed to keep us all distracted. Instead of worrying about our freedoms being taken away, The Man wants us to be happy tuning into a ball-game and eating fast food!”

I reflexively glanced at my car radio dial tuned to 680 AM, the station for Sports-talk radio and the San Francisco Giants. I had been listening to that day’s baseball game on my way to meet Robbie. I eyeballed the floor behind the passenger seat and spied a Taco Bell wrapper peeking out from underneath.

“Have you always been a corporate guy?” asked Robbie.

“Well, I’m originally from Berkeley,” I said.

Robbie looked surprised.

“Telegraph Avenue,” I said, “the riots, People’s Park, the whole bit.”

“Wow,” said Robbie, “and here you are workin’ for The Man!”

I wrote an offer for Robbie on a house on the South end of town, and I visited the Listing Agent’s office to present it to the seller, Mr. Bailey.

“Good riddance to the place,” said Mr. Bailey. “I’m selling off that rental and moving away. No more paying taxes to our liberal corrupt Government for me, you know what I mean? My tenant has more rights to the place than I do.”

I presented Robbie’s offer.

“FHA loan, huh?” said Mr. Bailey. “Another socialist program, if you ask me.” Mr. Bailey went on about our government subsidizing communism. “They’re taking our freedoms away!” he said.

“It all started with those commie-loving hippies with their so-called folk music,” he said. “Even country music has been infiltrated by hippies, like that bearded pot-smoker, Willie Nelson.”

In my mind I shuffled through the cassette tapes in the shoe-box under the front seat of my car, and noted Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are a-Changin’.” Also there was “The Red-Headed Stranger” by Willie Nelson.

I visualized Robbie Burns with his beard and tie-dyed t-shirt, without a doubt a commie-loving hippie in the eyes of Mr. Bailey.

Later, I told KDV of my diverse experience that day.

“That’s Real Estate, babe,” said KDV. “Where else can you simultaneously be hangin’ with the hippies and workin’ for the man?”

August 6, 2015

One of a Kind

“It’s so hot, trees are whistling for dogs. It’s so hot, chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs. It’s so hot, asphalt has achieved a liquid state. It’s so hot, ice cubes spontaneously combust.”

My buddy Bill and I fired off that string of “It’s too hot” jokes, evoking the spirit of our old friend and mentor, Ken DuVall, the jokemeister of all time.

“I sure miss old KDV; how long has he been gone?” said Bill.

It was three years ago this week, and we miss him. KDV had such an impact on all who knew him and worked with him that his name comes up every day in a story, a quote, a joke, or a Real Estate dilemma.

The first time I saw Ken in action, he stood at the front of a classroom of eighteen students in a real estate license prep course. He was the instructor. He took boring material and served it up mixed with jokes and stories.

“If you’re anything like me you won’t let your schooling interfere with your education.”

“You wanna be rich? Easy. Get up early, work hard, and strike oil.”

And: “Just watch me closely and listen precisely. That way you’ll know exactly what not to do for success in real estate.”

Ken was a sincere mentor.

“If you work really hard you can make a great living in real estate,” he said, “but no joke, it’s all about the people. Do the job well for the people, and then you’ll get paid. If you’re just going for the bread, babe, you’re dead.”

And: “We make a living by what we get; we make a life by what we give.”

Ken was born and raised in Hollywood. He raced motorcycles in competitions on tracks, dirt, and desert sand. He was a stunt man in the movies — he crashed cars, flipped motorcycles, and jumped off buildings. Check out “Hot Rod Girl” and “Jail House Rock” from the ‘50’s.

Through it all, Ken was a salesman. From the time he was a teenager, he sold everything from aluminum siding to coffee makers to T.V. antennas. Then fifty years of Real Estate.

“The secret to selling, babe,” he said, “is trust and honesty. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made. Just kidding!”

Ken loved his wife and kids. “In all things, my friend,” he said, “love is the answer. Now, if I can just remember the question…”

Ken loved his dogs. The last note he sent me was “Things We Can Learn from a Dog: 1) Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride. 2) Be loyal. 3) When someone is having a bad day, be silent and sit close by. 4) When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.”

RIP, KDV, one-of-a-kind.