Tag Archives: Wickenburg

Landlord Stories, Part II

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An update on my landlord situation.

We finished work on the rental house that my tenant had trashed.

The painting was done last week. The carpet was replaced on Friday.

Mike, John, Lorna, and I spent Saturday cleaning the vertical blinds — which had probably never been cleaned before — and fixing the broken things throughout: kitchen sink faucet, garbage disposal, exhaust fans, etc. We also cleaned out the storage closets under the carport. The tenant from hell had just stuffed both closets with things she no longer cared about — toys, games, photographs, clothes, trophies — you name it. The highlights: a 8×10 photograph of her mother (recently deceased) and someone’s service medal. Anything that looked as if it had value went to the local thrift shop. Everything else went into the trash. We filled the curbside trash bin for the fifth time that day.

The house looks absolutely great now. I’ve already gotten some calls from prospective tenants, but so far every single one of them has a dog. No pets. No exceptions. I’m not going through this again.

I also started the wheels turning on refinancing the place. My goal is to get a separate mortgage for the apartment building and the house. Right now, they’re on the same mortgage. Once they’re separated, I can sell each one individually. I’d like to sell the house and keep the apartment building. I’m pretty sure I want to put my office in Unit #4, which is upstairs and has nice views. But I got a call from someone who’s interested in renting it for three months and if she does take it, I’ll put off my office move until she’s gone.

Of course, since the whole property — house and apartments — are currently listed for sale, I might just sell everything off and be done with it. I just hope that if they do all sell together, it happens soon, before I pay over $4K in bank closing costs for the new mortgages.

Wickenburg is an Island

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Some more thoughts on living at the edge of nowhere.

Last night, we went out to dinner at House Berlin with our friends, the Wurths.

House Berlin is one of my favorite places to eat in Wickenburg. The food is always good and lately the service is good again, too.

The Wurths are a semi-retired couple who moved into Wickenburg not long after we did seven or eight years ago. Jim had been an airline pilot for Eastern Airlines and took early retirement before Eastern went bust. Judith had been a flight attendant back in the days when they were still called stewardesses and had done a few other things I didn’t know much about. Now they live in Wickenburg where they manufacture and sell battery-based aircraft starting devices called StartPacs.

Jim flies a helicopter now and that’s how I know him. He has a 1969 Hughes 500c, exquisitely refurbished and painted. As he likes to say, it’s the Porsche of helicopters. He gave me a ride up the Hassayampa River once that was quite memorable, primarily because of the positive and negative Gs he pulled. In a helicopter. My little Robinson R22, which I owned at the time, couldn’t fly like that. But then again, it didn’t cost $500/hour to fly, either.

Anyway, we went out to dinner and had a nice meal. Jim and Judith had just gotten back from a trade show in Reno, NV, where they’d sold a lot of StartPacs to agricultural operators — companies that do crop dusting, etc. They had lots of stories to tell about the aircraft they’d seen and the stories they’d heard. Judith had caught a cold from Jim and was quieter than usual, looking more tired than I did. (I’d spent the day with Mike and some other friends cleaning up my rental house.)

I’d driven my Honda S2000 to the restaurant and parked out front with the top down. It had been an extremely warm day, with temperatures reaching the 80s in the late afternoon, so it had been nice to get out in the convertible. I rarely drive the car; I’ve had it since August 2003 and it has just over 7000 miles on it now. The car is an eye-catcher in Wickenburg, which probably has more pickup trucks per capita (among year-round residents, of course) than any other town in Arizona. At least that’s how it seems. When I go out with the car, I like to park it in an obvious place, top down, to draw attention to the business I’m visiting. It’s my way of saying, “Hey, this is a cool place. Come on in and check it out.”

[A side story here. Earlier this year, members of the helicopter owners group I belong to descended (literally) on the Wayside Inn, just southeast of Alamo Lake. Five helicopters and a Citabria airplane landed at the restaurant and went in for lunch. (The Citabria landed on the dirt road that runs past the place.) The Wayside Inn is in the middle of nowhere (not even close to the edge) and doesn’t get much business. (Location, location, location.) But with five helicopters and an airplane outside, it seemed that everyone who drove by stopped and came in to eat. Every single table was full. Frankly, I think they should feed us for free when we come in, just to drum up business.]

I left the top down on the car for the drive home. It was only 7 PM, but it was dark and very cool. The desert is like that in the winter. Imagine that the sun is a big heat lamp shining down on the desert. The angle of the sun in the winter is low, so it never really gets very hot. But when the sun goes down and that heat lamp is gone, the air cools very quickly. It’s not unusual to lose 20°F in an hour. But I had the windows rolled up and the heater on in the car, so we were quite cosy.

The moonless sky was full of stars. It was a beautiful night, despite the cold, and although I was tired, I didn’t feel like going home. I felt like going for a drive.

I thought back to the days I lived in New Jersey, not far from Manhattan. Sometimes, on the spur of the moment, we’d drive into the city for a few hours, riding down the streets, dodging the yellow taxis, listening to the sound of the car horns bounce off the tall buildings on the side of the road. We’d drive down Broadway through Times Square, past Herald Square and Washington Square. We’d see the punkers and cross-dressers and plain old college kids in Greenwich Village and sometimes, if we got a parking spot, would hop out and take a walk around. Other times, we’d head down to Chinatown or Little Italy for Chinese food or some Italian pastries at Ferrarra’s. (I remember a few years ago taking a $14 round trip cab ride from midtown to Little Italy, just to pick up a box of pastries — they’re that good.) We’d drive down past the Municipal Building, where I worked for several years, and City Hall. Then we’d drive up the east side on the FDR drive, past the Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Williamsburg Bridges. The lights of the city’s skyscrapers would be to our left as we headed north while the darkness of the East River was to our right. Past the Queensboro Bridge (immortalized by it’s other name in the Simon and Garfunkel song) and the tramway to Roosevelt Island. Onto the Harlem River Drive, past Yankee Stadium, and up the ramp to the Cross Bronx Expressway. Then a short drive over the George Washington Bridge and into the darkness of the Palisades Parkway to the north. A while later, we’d be home again, full of memories, Chinese food, or pastries — more likely a combination of these. Although we lived on a quiet, tree-lined street in a town so small that few people knew of its existence — Harrington Park — we were only 26 miles from midtown Manhattan. Two hours was often enough time to have a brief evening out in the big city.

Last night, in Wickenburg, reminded me of an early or late summer night in New Jersey. The weather was about the same. But that’s where the similarities end.

Wickenburg, you see, is an island surrounded by desert. When you drive away from Wickenburg at night, you drive into darkness. Eventually, that darkness is replaced with another town or more. Go southeast and you’ll pass through Morristown, Circle City, and Wittman, none of which are very impressive day or night before you finally get to Surprise, which is growing rapidly, spreading northward at an alarming rate. That’s where you’ll find the bright lights of the strip malls and big box stores and parking lots. Go west and you’ll eventually pass through Aquila, Wenden, Salome, Hope, and Brenda before finally hitting I-10. These tiny communities make Wickenburg seem like a thriving metropolis. Go north and you’ll pass through Congress, Yarnell, and Peeples Valley on your way to distance Prescott, which is a thriving metropolis.

And Phoenix, to the southeast, is not only distant, but it’s a poor substitute for New York.

So I guess it’s safe to say that Wickenburg just isn’t a good starting point to take an evening drive. It’s an island that is surrounded by distance rather than water.

All this passed through my mind in the distance between Double D and Safeway on West Wickenburg Way. So we just went home.

If anyone knows of a place to get good Italian pastries — and I mean real Italian pastries — in the Phoenix area, please let me know. It might be worth a drive just to check it out.

Real Estate Wheelings and Dealings

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I listen to an offer from a real estate investor and learn a lot about buying and selling real estate.

Back when I first started making real money as a writer, I invested in real estate. The first year, I bought a two bedroom condo in town as a rental. The second year, I bought a property that included a 2 bedroom/2 bath house and a small apartment building with four furnished studio apartment units. The third year, I realized that there was far more fun things to do with my money so I bought a helicopter.

I still own all that real estate, although I don’t really want to. I hate being a landlord. I hate dealing with tenants and cleaning up after them. I hate showing the apartments. I hate evicting tenants who can’t seem to pay on time. I just hate the whole thing.

I moved my office into the condo about three years ago. It’s more space than I need, but at least I don’t have to deal with tenants there anymore.

A few years ago, I half-heartedly put the five-plex on the market. I gave the Realtor I listed with strict instructions: only show the place to qualified buyers. Give the tenants at least 24 hours notice and get their permission before showing their units. Unfortunately, a local Realtor who was too lazy to show the property properly gave the address to a potential buyer. The buyer didn’t do just a drive by. He drove in. And he started knocking on doors. When one of my tenants told me about this, I wigged out and took the property off the market.

This year, I needed to upgrade my helicopter from a 2-place Robinson R22 to a 4-place Robinson R44. To do this, I needed to either take out a huge aircraft loan or pull equity out of some real estate. So I put the five-plex back on the market.

It’s been shown a few times and I’ve gotten some low offers. One of the potential buyers was extremely obnoxious about it. He didn’t want the house. He just wanted the four-plex. So he offered an insultingly low amount. I didn’t even bother to counter.

I arranged helicopter financing another way, so I’m not desperate to make the sale. But I do want to sell. And I’d like to sell sometime before next summer.

The other day, my Realtor (a different one from last time) called to ask if I’d be interested in carrying 20% on the property. I thought about it a while and said yes. And yesterday, I met with someone who made me an official offer, one that shows exactly how much wheeling and dealing someone can do in the world of real estate.

This buyer wanted me to finance the 25% the lender would normally require him to come up with as a down payment. He wanted to pay me only 5% on the amount I’d carry (when his lender was getting 6.5%) and amortize that over 30 years, with a balloon payment in 3 years. He wanted me to pay all closing costs. He was, in essence, trying to buy a property listed for $324,000 for only $290,000 without any out-of-pocket costs. I’d basically be financing part of his investment, with a high-risk loan that had little collateral.

The deal got weirder as the meeting progressed. He said he worked very closely with his lender and appraiser and could get the property appraised for just about anything he needed it to. So to make the numbers work, he could pay up to $350,000 for the property. I’d still have to carry 25% — which was now over $80,000 — and I’d also have to give him a “seller rebate” of $20,000 so he could make some improvements on the property. So not only am I financing the investment for him, but I’m making the improvements, too. And hanging a lot of money out there for possible loss.

I came to the meeting prepared with a spreadsheet. I punched the numbers in and saw that it was possible for it to work. On paper (or pixels). But was I willing to risk $80,000+ on someone who wasn’t willing to put up any of his own money? No way!

This morning, I came up with a counteroffer that I know he’ll turn down. I e-mailed it to my Realtor. Hopefully, this buyer will just go away. My head is still spinning from his scheme.

But I did learn one thing: I can separate the two properties and refinance them with two loans. I can pull my equity out and be in a good position to sell either property on its own. That’s something I hadn’t thought about going into this and it’s a damn good idea.

People are Pigs

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A tenant moves out and I am amazed by the way some people live.

She was not the perfect tenant. She often paid her rent late and always seemed to have some excuse involving a health problem. Yet there was a brand new car in her driveway this year, a hot tub in the backyard, and I often saw her going into the tanning salon. Obviously, her priorities were screwed up.

But she never complained about things being broken or asked us to come fix something for her. There may be two reasons for this, as I learned yesterday. Either she never used anything (like the stove) or she had everything fixed herself, just so I wouldn’t have to come into the house.

I didn’t bother her. I’m not the kind of person to snoop on my tenants. They have their lives, I have mine. Pay rent on time and I’ll leave you alone. Pay rent late and I’ll charge a late fee and leave you alone. I got a lot of late fees out of Lisa. But probably not enough to cover the damage she did to my house.

The house is a two bedroom, two bath house that shares a triple lot with a small apartment building I also own. (The apartment building contains four fully furnished studios.) It’s actually quite a nice little house, with a big, long room that comprises the living room, dining area, and kitchen and two smaller rooms, each with their own bath. The kitchen is full of cabinets and has a nice pantry. I didn’t recall there being a dishwasher, but yesterday I saw a portable dishwasher rolled to one side.

Destroyed RugsLisa and her teenage son and their dog(s) trashed the place. First of all, it appears that either Lisa didn’t own a vacuum cleaner or she didn’t know how to use one. I’ve never seen dust bunnies as large as the ones on that living room carpet. But it doesn’t really matter that much. Their dog(s) had done a real number on the carpet. Evidently Lisa decided to keep the backyard clean by letting her dog shit in the house. On the carpet. Although the carpet hadn’t been in great condition when she moved in, at least it was clean. Now it’s ready for the trash heap. And the house reeks of animal smell. Fortunately, the kitchen floor, which I’d replaced before she moved in, survived her abuse. The back bedroom’s carpet, which was also new when she moved in three and a half years ago, may be salvageable. It depends on how often the dog visited Lisa’s son.

Checkerboard WallLisa’s son is obviously a decorator-in-training. He gave each wall in his bedroom a different paint scheme. The big wall is now a black and white checkerboard, with squares about 12 inches on each side. The back wall is painted dark red with playing cards tacked up onto it. And the other big wall looks as if it were the victim of an experiment with squeeze bottles of paint. Oh, and I almost forgot about the shiny CDs tacked neatly onto the entire ceiling. They also neglected to remove much of their kitchen trash. The pantry is half full of food and garbage. The cabinets have McDonald’s catsup packets and related fast-food paraphernalia in them. The refrigerator is partially stocked with groceries.

Destroyed WallMy cleaning woman, who is due to arrive at the house at 8 AM today, will probably have a heart attack and die on the spot when she sees the mess she faces. The carpet cleaning guy already told me there isn’t much he can do. The painter will have a good laugh over the checkerboard, right before telling me that it’ll need three coats of paint to cover up. And I’m just praying that the place isn’t as big as it looks when the carpet replacement people come to measure. The cheapest carpet available in town is $17.50 per yard installed.

And Lisa? Disappeared. She left no forwarding address; I’m sure she realizes she’ll never see a cent of her security deposit. I’ll make a half-hearted attempt to track her down and get a small claims court case going against her. Then, with judgment in hand, I’ll wait on line behind the dozens of other people she owes money to, including the phone company, which turned off her phone last month, and the Town of Wickenburg, who was ready to turn off her electricity this week. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll get the court to garnish her wages — if she ever gets a job — so I can see some of the money I’ll be pouring into that house this month.

If anyone in Wickenburg is reading this and knows who I’m talking about, you obviously know Lisa. But if there are any landlords in Wickenburg who are wondering just who this nightmare tenant is, call me and I’ll give you a full name. People like this don’t belong in Wickenburg and we should consider it our duty to keep them out.

But then again, how often did Lisa use one of the town’s two cash advance businesses to get up the cash to pay her rent? And what does that say about Wickenburg?

There’s Hope for Wickenburg

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Prop 421 does not pass. And life goes on.

Proposition 421 was on this year’s ballot in Wickenburg. It was strongly supported by a number of the town’s “heavy hitters,” including the mayor (who didn’t identify himself as mayor on promotional material), newspaper publisher, chamber of commerce, and a hodgepodge of the town’s politicians. Their yellow “Vote Yes” signs were all over town. And mysteriously, for a few weeks, all the “Vote No” signs disappeared on a nightly basis. As a result, the Prop 421 supporters looked strong and gave the illusion that their side of the argument was right. I suspected that the majority of Wickenburg voters would not look deeply into the issue and would vote based on the number of signs they saw. In that case, Prop 421 would pass.

If you’re wondering what Prop 421 is (or was), it basically gave a developer the right to build high-density housing in an area that wasn’t zoned for it. The houses/condos would be “clustered” together in an area suitable for building and the unsuitable areas would be left as open land, like a park. Of course, those unsuitable areas were mostly in a wash, so building there wasn’t possible and any parklike features that were added — bike paths, benches, lighting, etc. — could be washed away in a flood. The carrot that was being dangled (to borrow the appropriate phrase from a friend of mine) was an additional nine holes added to the Country Club’s nine-hole golf course.

Prop 421’s supporters included:
1) Anyone who stood to make money on the additional housing. Think about it a bit and you might be able to figure out who (other than the developer) that might be, especially when you consider how much “under-the-table”‘ dealings go on in a small town.
2) Country club residents whose land did not border the land to be developed. These people were hypnotized by the artist’s renderings provided by the developer and saw themselves living on a Scottsdale-like development.
3) Business owners who think that adding more homes means adding more potential customers.

The sad part of all this is that the kinds of homes they were proposing would not be the kinds of homes occupied year-round by people who support Wickenburg’s economy. I’m talking about the people who live and work here, who run businesses, shop locally, and have a stake in the community. Instead, these condos (like most other condos/apartments in town) would appeal to the same seasonal residents that flood the town every winter for four months out of the year. These are the same people who make weekly trips to the Wal-Mart store in Surprise and, while they’re down there, buy gas, groceries, and anything else they need to make themselves more comfortable in their winter homes. In April, they disappear, leaving Wickenburg a virtual ghost town for the summer months. Some businesses that started up in the autumn, hoping to bring in enough revenue to get them through the summer months, dry up and blow away by July.

My views on the seasonal economy of Wickenburg are stated in many places, so I won’t go into it any further here.

Prop 421’s opposition included:
1) The people who live in the Country Club area whose views would be spoiled by the “cluster housing” planned for their backyards.
2) The people who realized that additional “affordable housing” in a town that’s growth is already almost out of control would only bring their own property values down. I admit that I’m one of these people. I think Wickenburg has enough housing, evidenced by the number of “for sale” signs in front of homes all over town.
3) The people who like Wickenburg the way it is and don’t want to see a huge influx of residents, all at once. That’s me, too. I’ve lived in a tightly packed community most of my life and it isn’t something I want ever again. That’s why I moved to Wickenburg.

“You can’t stop progress,” is something I heard at a Bypass meeting a long time ago. That might be true, but I think you can slow it down. Wickenburg is having growing pains; it might be best to slow the residential growth until the commercial growth catches up.

Of course, the town can’t be too happy about Prop 421’s failure. They were looking forward to the impact fees and additional property taxes from the new homes. But perhaps the town’s governing body and management can now get down to what they really need to do: help encourage business growth in Wickenburg. It’ll take some work, but isn’t that what they’re supposed to be doing?

Wickenburg has a nice little industrial park near the airport with a few businesses based there. How about getting a few more of those businesses in there? The kind of business a man (or woman) can build a career at, and can earn enough money to support a family. Think of all the year-round residents Wickenburg could attract if it had some good employers in town! The Meadows and Remuda Ranch make up a huge part of the town’s year-round economy, providing jobs for many people. But why can’t there be other employers like them? Why should jobs be limited to low-paying retail jobs and seasonal positions that can’t provide a year-round income? Why can’t Wickenburg attract more employers that offer professional jobs and careers? Why isn’t the town’s government doing something to get quality businesses in here? Why do they insist on trying to build revenues by adding homes and low-class businesses (like the newest discount store under construction on 93) that pay low-income wages? The town wouldn’t need so much cheap housing if it had more better-paying jobs.

I’m doing my part. Last month, I began expanding wickenburg-az.com to provide more coverage of local businesses, in an attempt to get people to come to and shop in Wickenburg. The site gets about 1,000 page hits a day, which really isn’t much, but it’s something. My recent article about Buckshot Babe’s got a ton of positive responses via e-mail from Wickenburg residents and visitors, so I must be on the right track.

Yesterday, I met with a new organization called Women Entrepreneurs (WE). These women, who mostly run home-based businesses, are networking to support each other and provide low-cost marketing opportunities. There was a lot of Chamber-bashing at the meeting yesterday (which isn’t anything new in this town) and plenty of good ideas for getting the word out about our businesses. I’m going to help these folks any way I can because they’re the people that keep Wickenburg alive — the people who live here year-round and keep the dollars flowing in town.

But when is the town’s government going to see it that way?