Dear Assh...uh...I mean neighbor,

This is just one small example of the residual fallout that can occur after a condo owner pays upwards of $50,000 for a deeded parking space in Chicago (See the picture). And no, this was not directed at me---I found it laying on the icy sidewalk before a showing---although, I did once receive a similar love note from a married couple upstairs demanding me to stop smoking cigarettes in my duplex.

I believe the husband's exact words to me began with, "Just so you know, I am an attorney" to which I promptly replied, "What a coincidence, I have an attorney..." and on it went for several months. They ended up selling their condo and moving away and I shortly thereafter, kicked the habit for good. I also brought the buyer for their unit. So there, I won on all counts. It's one of my favorite real estate agent/condo living/unfriendly neighbor stories.

Now I don't know Javier & Laura personally but I do know the River North building they live in and yes, 50K buys you an 8 by 17 foot patch of individually taxed and assessed concrete in the bowels of their garage. It's sick when you start doing the $$ math per square foot for unlivable space. Unbelievable, really.

...And thus, it really pisses an already heavily mortgaged condo owner off when someone else in the building parks his Hummer over the surveyed yellow line and onto their assigned (and also mortgaged) parking space. It makes for unfriendly condo association cookouts on Sunday afternoons in the summer. It makes for dead silence and lack of eye contact during the long elevator rides up to the Eighth Floor. It calls for nasty notes like the one above to make a point. It can even culminate in...yes, fist-a-cuffs.

I've noticed on the news that more than a few people have been clobbered over parking space incidents in this white city since I arrived a dozen years ago. The truth is, guys like Javier can only take so much inconsiderate neighbor-related angst before they snap. It can turn poor girls like Laura into instant median strip mud wrestlers with one honk of the horn too many in rush hour traffic. I've seen it and it ain't pretty. It makes city dwellers in oversized SUVs (which I love by the way---the vehicles, not the people) vessels for bad condo karma, dude.

It makes relying on the CTA for urban transport sound like a good idea. All you have to worry about then is how to spend the extra 50K you pocketed...and of course, all the lunatics on the bus.


Geno Petro

West of Western...(Avenue, that is...)

For the past two or three months I have been venturing farther and farther north and west in my Real Estate travels. I was pleased to discover, much like Columbus, that the world is not flat (contrary to what many believe) and that I in fact, would not sail my Mini Cooper off the edge of the Earth if I happened to wander a block or so past California (Avenue, that is...). That subconscious mother's voice that had been yelling into my inner ear these past few years (alright, all my life) ...

"Genie, stay away from those far west streets. You'll get side-swiped by a part-time realtor. Those 'west of Western' (Avenue, that is...) agents communicate by pagers and Supras (electronic lock-boxes for the laziest of Listing Agents) and every property has at least 2 kitchens with aunts and uncles everywhere. There's not a Starbucks to be found, Sushi is a four letter word (to them) and you'll be wearing a gold blazer with a name tag within a month. You'll have to put your picture on your business card. Please be careful son..."

...that voice...has finally subsided. It's safe now. The Northside spill-over has officially begun. My wife and I recently purchased a house in the Forest Glen neighborhood of the city (I saved my beloved spouse just seconds before she became an honorary Trixie, I am certain).

And by 'safe' I mean from an investment standpoint. With basic land values steadily hovering above $750,000 per 25'x125' parcel in Lincoln Park, most single family home buyers have no other choice but to expand their searches outward from the sweetspot of the upwardly mobile speedball of Chicago's Northside, and head west. And for those of you who are not from this topographic region, just believe me when I say that heading east is not an option--big, big lake....And while I suppose there are arguments to be made for meandering north or south, it is my professional opinion that northwest is indeed, the only way to fly. My last five deals have occured in this geographic annex of Greater Chicagoland and if it's good enough for my clients then it's good enough for me. I will soon have a yard to cut and a house to paint every 10 years.

The thing is, if you want a relatively spartan single family home in the neighborhood I presently reside in (Lincoln Park) then you'll have to spend around a mil. If you want it to be real nice then you'll need to spend around 2 mil; exquisite...3 mil. Exquisite and in the best part of Lincoln Park, 5 mil for starters; 30 mil if you want a Pritzker for a neighbor. If all of the above price points are not in your housing budget but you just gotta have the 'hood and all it has to offer, then guess what...? C.O.N.D.O.M.I.N.I.U.M.

Bottom Line: If you want to spend less than seven figures for an actual house--and you don't mind having a Petro for a neighbor--then by all means, sell the Condo, point your vehicle in a westwardly direction, continue 30 or so blocks past the edge of the Earth (California...Avenue, that is), and claim your stake before all the other Trixies and Chads get here first. A Starbucks is sure to follow--I'm betting heavily on it. Sushi, however, might be another story altogether.

Geno Petro

Things You Don't Forget

The other morning during my daily walking (dragging) of the hound we noticed a new development on our block. It first caught the eye of my pooch as he put on the air brakes nearly yanking my arm from its socket. It wasn't so much a development really, but more of a twist--an evolutional 'baby step' for the neighborhood; a precursor of events to follow as residential life in the city plays out its hand--foreshadowing, at the very least.

While we technically live on the geograhic cusp of Lincoln Park and West Lakeview on Chicago's North Side, a new multicolored banner hanging from the lamp post (as they typically do) at the corner of Wolcott and Diversey has now declared our tiny annex of the city, Hamlin Park Neighbors. Some rogue neighborhood committee must have assembled its own group of condo-owning infidels while my wife and I were vacationing and captured the four block area through some back street ad hoc maneuvering our great city is so famous for. Last I looked, the Hamlin Park contingent had set up camp just south of Wellington but lacked the residential manpower to forge across Diversey. But this is just background music with perhaps, a few Aldermanic overtones.

The real story here is what first caught the eye of my dog on that brisk morning. It wasn't the hanging banner at all but rather, what we both witnessed coming toward us down the sidewalk. The banner itself was merely symbolism.

A young boy, maybe four or five years old, clad in helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, safety gloves, goggles and protective mouthpiece---patient 30-something father to his side with hand on shoulder--came weaving toward us on his virgin bicycle flight-- sans training wheels. Again, last time I looked, his mother was pregnant--with him. We both watched on.

I thought back 45 years to my own inaugural two wheeled mission, my own father's hand on my shoulder, with Salem in mouth and hint of Mennens aftershave lingering in the August air, guiding me with patience (yeah right) along. I think I was barefoot with no shirt in swimming trunks. It was my fifth birthday. Thinking back as I looked down at my attentive companion, that was many dogs ago.

What hasn't changed and what my point here really is---is...its 'five years and you're out' when you live in the city. The next steps for this young family down the block (mom is pregnant again) and I'm sure they already know some of this, is the For Sale By Owner sign on the black iron fence, followed in short order by the sign of my Brokerage most likely, then off to Lake Forest or Wilmette or some other bucolic Northern Chicago suburb for the next 15 or 20 years in a series of Center-Entry Colonials, before venturing back for the final city swing until finally, permanent retirement in a deep Southern state.

When one first witnesses the heavily armored five year old, father to the side, attempting to navigate the narrow sidewalks of Chicago on a mini mountain bike, one just knows a North Shore cul-de-sac with a more equitable (school district) tax basis is the next destination. Even my dog Elvis, with his two or three track mind, has an inkling that change is near for these young Hamlin Park Neighbors. Thinking back, I too lived in a fresh new house and attended a different, better school district by the time second grade rolled around. The main difference is my parents didn't vote to change the name of the neighborhood before they left.

image by all poster

Geno Petro

Bubble...or just leaking hot air?

I'm going on the record once again to say that I look at Chicago property on a daily basis, be it in the car with clients or simply scouring the listings of each 'windy city' neighborhood (yes, its windy here today...very) for whatever is new and exciting on the market. I commit what I can to memory and download the rest into my follow-up system for pending and future appointments. Just this past week I brought my '3 Bedroom Clients' to everything worth showing in the 475-525K range in Lincoln Park; I exhausted the 'Under 300K 2 Bedroom Market' in Lakeview and Buena Park with another gentleman; and personally viewed every 'New Construction Single Family House' in the 1.5-2.5 Mil Bucktown/Wicker Park neighborhoods with 10 days or less on the market.

For my second showings I pulled the Property History on each and the Tax Records (previous recorded sales price) for the two places my clients and I plan on taking a run at. It was while doing this exercise that I noticed what I had been suspecting for some time but hadn't bothered to examine closely--Single Family Home and Condominium List prices have moved very little in the past 24 months. And while Market Time has been lingering across the board during this same period, price reductions have been minimal and price slashing has been almost nonexistent. And my Conclusion: No Real Estate Bubble here....just some overpriced listings taken by some well intentioned but 'hot air' listing agents.

I am of the opinion that most overpriced listings have less to do with the actual market than the experience and savvy of the listing agent filling out the paperwork. Thousands of newly licensed agents have hit the streets in and around Chicagoland these past few years and many have taken listings that more experienced agents would pass on. And its not just the newbys. In a crowded industry such as this its very difficult to pass up any opportunity to work for a client. But it does not do the seller justice at all to list a property two pricepoints above correct market value. I've done it. It's painful. Nobody gets happy. (I define correct market value as a price that generates 10 showings a month minimum/3 months on the market maximum for an offer) This applies almost exclusively to the Residential Resale inventory. New Construction has its own set of parameters to examine and will be written about at another sitting.

The new (or just plain unsavvy) agent doesn't realize what happens when a property is listed at the wrong pricepoint. To begin with, the property is consistently the worse example of any showing line-up, market time accumulates like interest on a juice loan, and expectations of a timely sale with premium profits diminish with each passing week/month/quarter. And when the inevitable price reduction finally does come, (often times on the clock of the newly hired listing agent) everyone is screaming 'Bubble!' when in fact, it was just a little 'hot air' correction.

image by metablake

Geno Petro