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Geno Petro





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Block by Block Chicago

While surfing the net (isn't there a better term for that pastime yet?) for neighborhood news near my homestead in the bucolic Forest Glen community, I came across the following website: EveryBlock Chicago. I just added the landing page to my sidebar on the right under Other Chicago Blogs & Links. It not only addresses many aspects of Chicago real estate: building permits, property tansfers, business licenses, etc---it also posts a street by street (address by address, in fact) crime blotter for every neighborhood in the entire city as well as restaurant inspections, business reviews and a basic bulletin board of real estate listings. (Our own ChicagoHomeEstates.com Search Engine , however, is a much slicker and functional site for identifying Chicago real estate, IMHO.)

While reading the entries in my 'hood I was sorry to learn a bicycle was taken from a front porch just down the block, the morning breakfast spot I never had a chance to eat in was cited for sanitary reasons, and Mrs. McGillicuddy's snauzer chased the mailman back to his truck but hey, the public wants 'transparency' so don't complain, right? At any rate, click on the site if you have a few extra minutes of internet play time at work. Just type your address in the FIND NEWS NEAR bar at the top of the page then click the SEARCH CHICAGO button. Who knows, you may even locate that lost cat that strayed away last year.


Geno Petro

google image by worldexecutive

May Day, May Day

I'm cutting the obligatory thousand words short by 900 or so, and going straight to option b)...i.e. the picture (April showers, yadda yadda flowers...). Two things puzzle me, however. First, the fact that there was actually snowfall on May 1st in Chicago and the above garden kept its collective bloom and secondly, that the tulips even bloomed in the first place as my dog Elvis lifted his hind leg on the above pictured corner of real estate at least once a day, every day, for the past 6 months. Take that all you Global Warmers. And judging from the shoddy condition of my own front lawn, acid rain has nothing on old Elvis, either--he's an environmental wrecking ball in, and of, himself...

Flip This Garage

An earthquake measuring 5.2 on the Richter Scale (the 'It' source when it comes to earthquakes from what everybody says) hit downstate Illinois last Monday with an ensuing aftershock that actually shook the house I live in, 200 miles north in Chicago (not pictured, thank you). This was exactly three days after a 125 pound wild cougar was shot in a nearby neighborhood alley by Chicago police and one fateful day before 20 separate people in 20 separate incidents were shot in a single weekend with handguns on the city's South side. Correction: a few were actually gunned down with an AK-47 which, from what I understand, is more of an assault rifle than a handgun. But what do I know? I only own a baseball bat and a big dog.

The City of Chicago owes me $4300 for an overpaid Property Tax Refund and is making me wait 60 days for the "checks to clear" although the semi-annual bill was paid (TWICE) via electronic transfer and deposited into the city coffers instantly. I have receipts with timestamps. I have bank statements.

The Voice in the County Assessors office speaks after finally locating my file:

"Receipts and bank statements don't make a difference Mr. Genoa Petrol, (the way Spellcheck corrects my name according to Kris Berg and others) ...Everybody waits 60 days. Try back in a few more weeks."

"You're kidding me, right?" I say to The Voice on the phone. "You guys didn't wait 60 seconds to post the deposit. Twice."

"This is the City of Chicago, Mr. Petrol.... Why would I be kidding?" The Voice has the last word.

My Mini Cooper hit a pothole the other morning on Elston Avenue that cracked my head on the glass sunroof and almost shoved the engine up into my lap. I called the City of Chicago Streets and Sanitation number to report the crater. I was put on hold for 10 minutes before getting transferred to The Voice. I hung up.

I'm currently involved in a deal where the buy-side attorney thinks he's prosecuting the Monkey Trial. His paralegal (the real attorney is too busy lawyerin' to take my calls) tells me that 'Realtors' involved in the deal are not the clients of the attorney and thus, are not privy to to all the super secret, very classified, inside information concerning a single Xerox copy of a Water Certification document that I need for my files. Her advice to me was to call the City of Chicago. Which I did...

I called them and told them that I believe the Richter Scale earthquake damaged a structure on my street and could they please send someone out to take a look (see above picture). Now I'm fairly new to the community but neighbors tell me that the delapidated building, (a garage actually) has been in that same lean-to condition for at least 15 years. A mean dog chased me away before I made it to the alley for a sharper angle snapshot (with much more daylight coming through the roof). It was either a dog or a cougar, I'm not certain.

While on the phone I also asked how the cop who shot the other cougar was faring emotionally, inquired about the pothole/sinkhole on Elston and whether or not a baseball bat needed to be registered as a weapon (see The Untouchables). I mentioned that I did have a valid license for my dog, however. I asked if they could check how the Water Cert documentation was coming along for my Supreme Court case studio apartment deal, and also inquired about a certain missing, lost in cyberspace, $4300 Property Tax Refund with my name on it. I got transferred a half dozen times until finally...

The Voice, "Mr. Genoa Petrol...is that you?"

I hung up.

Geno Petro

Funny how?

imagery by a.j. pinto

idea by ben osbun

inspired by dennis hopper

edited for content by mona petro

edited for language by american express

directed by joe pinto

featuring geno petro

Having a great group of office mates to work with (and pull my leg)...priceless. Oh wait, that's the other company. What's in your wallet? No...that's not them either. Anyway, I don't leave home without it. And that's the Word on this Chicago street.

Peace,

G.

"We'd like to thank The Academy..."

I feel thrice blessed as I enter the second quarter of the business year on this, the first day of April, 2008. No kidding, punchlines, or April fooling around. The sensation I am enjoying this day is one of good old simple gratitude.

For starters, Denver Colorado's Todd Carpenter featured me this past Monday on his Blog Fiesta! Blogger Spotlight series. That was certainly an unexpected honor; to be interviewed by another blogger whose work I admire. I now stand alongside some very good company in his sidebar.

Later that same day, a deal I wrote about just before Easter weekend that was going sideways in quick fashion, regained its cosmic balance and came together like 'peas and carrots' on settlement day. It was raining all kinds of farm animals outside the title company and the wired funds from the Fed were lost in cyberspace for the better part of an entire day but the transaction limped across the finish line and Closed by 6 PM. Everyone left the building on speaking terms and all mixed metaphors aside; checks, keys, and well wishes were exchanged and all animosities, put to bed for good, by sunset.

And finally, this morning I arose to find that indeed, the Sun does also rise and that the latest Bloodhound Blog Odysseus Medal was awarded....Alas! The trifecta! Greg Swann awarded it to me! And just to add a touch of dramatic irony, the piece was entitled, Geno's Wrong (bang a gong).

And ....as if sheer momentum, good fortune and mere praise by my peers is not enough, I am simultaneously typing these words and preparing an Offer for a client referral on a Wrigleyville condominium scheduled to close about the time the Diamondbacks hit town in mid-May to get charmed by the Cubbies. This way I can bring bragging rights down to the Unchained Conference with me the following week, along with a little spending money for the missus.


So dear universe and all the members of the cosmic academy, I thank you.... The real estate gods like me...they really, really like me...for now.


Geno Petro

photo by Mike Kardis

Postscript...R.I.P.

Earlier in the year I wrote about the mystique of the American Express Centurion (blacker than black) Card and how once, a few years back, I met a Commodities Trader who boasted of having one. For those of you not in the know, Centurion cardholders number in the mere thousands world-wide--10,000 or so is the estimated 'buzz' number that is floating around the web although A.E. never goes on record one way or another on the subject. The privileges associated with 'The Card' are other wordly from a layman's perspective and the fodder for many an urban legend. One example:

'The Card arrives at your residence accompanied by a security guard who passes on to you a big black, velvet lined box with two Black Cards and a mini-computer. One Black Card is the actual Card while the other is an exclusive 'entrance pass ' to some of the most prestigious clubs in the world. The mini-computer is yours to keep to track and record all of your purchases.'

"Hmmm...perhaps," say I.

Now my wife, who has worked for the company since 1990, has never seen one herself even though her particular area of expertise is 'corporate travel.' Apparently, Centurions get from point A to point B some other way--private jets, yachts, limos, astral projection would be a few of my guesses but what do I know? I only have a Gold Card and I'm pretty sure my status numbers in the millions. Which brings me back to the Trader I met who mentioned he had one.

To recap that story; A friend of my wife's new boyfriend---wait a minute....that doesn't sound right. Regroup; My wife's friend's new boyfriend was apparently a billionaire Trader---self proclaimed, come to find out (duh)---and in the market for a house in Chicago. A very big house--not just Trader big but billionaire Trader big. He had already wasted some other Realtor's time for several weekends (there was nothing in the 'up to 5 million dollar range' that suited him as he desired his new estate rest on at least four city lots) when I burst on the scene with all my best Real Estate mojo. We had shmoozed for an hour or so at a dinner party when I suggested he double down on his price-point. I told him of a particular Vanity Builder I knew (heard of) who would assemble a city block if necessary, to build such an estate. Average price: 10 million.

I was immediately annointed his new 'go to guy in Chicago.' He soon after married my wife's friend, adopted her already once adopted child, and to put it as nicely as I can...it was all downhill from there. When I shook his hand at the wedding I noticed the gold tone on his watch was rubbing away at the wrist band. Hmmm... Also, he was acting pretty drunk for a billionaire, I thought, but as I've mentioned often...I can be judgemental. I Googled him out of sheer curiosity--nothing. Not a strong indicator of a man with 9 zeros of supposed net worth behind his moncker. Cheap watch, drunk and no Google. Come on...even I got Google.

Nonetheless, we set the development machine into motion and the Vanity Builder, my new best friend, began to put together a deal to buy out all the owners of a particular condominium complex on one of the premier streets in Chicago. We would then knock down that structure and proceed into La La Land with the new project. "Money," we were told by my client, "was no object." Architects were brought in, designers retained and limestone from France was hunted down. And although nothing was actually put into writing (or signed) as of yet, my client decided a nice dinner was in order and thus, the moment of truth would finally arrive: my wife and I would once and forever see what a black Amex card in motion looked like. I ordered a bottle of Cristal and I don't even drink. (Read here later to see how the rest of that evening played out.)

The following Monday I set out to meet him and pick up the initial Earnest Money check. He instead, back pedalled out of the appointment over the phone and attempted to have me give him a check for $10,000 for a position on Unleaded Gas Futures. He told me he was putting the 10 million dollar house project on hold for a while and wondered if I'd be kind enough to let let all the other parties know, as well. Oh, and that we should play golf at his club sometime soon. He subsequently backed out of the whole project, packed up his new wife and child, and left the state. My new ex-best friend, the Vanity Builder, thinks I'm an idiot to this day. Whenever those months in my life come to mind, so do I. This is where the old story ends....

And the Postscript begins:

In August of the following year my ex-client left to go to a bank in another state and never returned, leaving his wife and child behind in a virtual panic. They were to close escrow on a newly constructed house the next day and he was supposedly gathering the needed additional funds from one of his private accounts. The Builder defaulted the wife at the closing table, kept the $100,000 Earnest Money (her retirement savings from before they met) and killed the deal and her credit for good. Shortly afterwards, a couple million dollars of other peoples money (mostly investors) went missing along with the remainder of his new wife's assets she had turned over to him in the early months of their short marriage. Her 80 year old parents had given him their life savings, as well. My wife's friend, along with her child, and her parents are now penniless. We haven't heard from, or of, any of them in months.

The other day on a whim, I decided to Google the Trader again. A few moments later I came across his name under the headline, Mystery of Missing Trader Solved. His badly decomposed body was discovered eight months after his disappearance, in a secluded area of a Midwest state. The article mentioned that the FBI had been searching for him all year, that possibly millions of dollars had been swindled from dozens of people, and that the one time Trader, a man with a 'tendancy to exaggerate' according to acquaintances, had apparently taken his own life leaving behind a wife and newly adopted child. One definition of exaggerate is 'to magnify beyond the limits of truth.' This whole sad scenario however, is almost magnified beyond the limits of belief.

I wanted to forward a copy of the article to the Vanity Builder but then I hesitated, examining my motives. Why? I asked myself. To save face? The Builder is a multi-multi millionaire in his own right. He couldn't care less about me or any of those mentioned above at this point. That deal is as dead as my client. Besides, all I lost was face and a couple hundred thousand dollar commission I never really expected anyway. Shame on me for spending it in my mind. The reality is, there's a woman and her child scraping out a living somewhere in the Midwest who has lost a whole lot more than face. And I should have seen it coming....


Geno Petro

8 New Ways To Kick An Old Dog (habit...I meant habit)

First off, I'm a dog lover and would never kick a real one unless it was chewing off a limb. The metaphoric hound I speak of though, is Starbucks---the coffee people. I've mentioned them before and often. They've clearly got me... and as my 'mug shot' (an Ardell DellaLoggia-ism) in the sidebar clearly shows, it is one of the few remaining vices I'm not ready to let go of. Keep this in mind for a moment as I'm actually writing this article in response to a comment I received on another Blog I post on.

I was making mention of the fact that it seems that every available residential corner 'ripe' for Development on the North Side of Chicago either has, or is slated to have, a Starbucks on the sidewalk level. For those of you not in the 'know,' the neighborhood of Lincoln Park I live and work in is a densely populated section of the city, jammed shoulder to shoulder (this is the City with Big Shoulders, by the way) with new construction projects--retail below with condos and lofts above. This is unique to the busier main street annexes of most new neighborhoods, with single family homes and four level townhouses generally situated on the quieter side streets--luxury single family homes. The land they're perched on sells for a half-million minimum these days and that's even with a relative down tick in new construction housing starts. Let's just call it upscale, for Real Estate purposes.

Anyway, the commentor posed the question, ...is it a "prerequisite for gentrification to have a Starbucks on every available corner" these days? The commentor is a Realtor from Knoxville where I'm pretty sure whiskey is the beverage of choice (not to imply he isn't a God fearing gentleman or didn't take the 'pledge' as a youth) so I decided to do a little snooping around using the patented Starbucks Locator before I responded to my new southern friend. This is what I found:

* There are 112 Starbucks within 5 miles of my home, that's 40 blocks in city terms. I'm not even sure what a mile exactly is these days but my last car didn't even get 80 blocks to the gallon if that means anything.

* Knoxville has a total of 5 Starbucks--one is on campus and another is apparently in the Hilton.
* All of China has 165 as of this writing but many, many, many more are expected, I hear.

So if the presence of a Starbucks is indeed an indicator, the question really should be "Is Chicago more like Knoxville or Mainland China as far as Development goes?" I don't know. I sort of like Chinese Food and although I've never actually eaten Knoxville Food I have made mention in a previous post about my in-laws from Tennessee and, as much as I love them personally, how I'm not a big fan of any dish that has the word casserole in its title.

I also discovered that the annual income of the average Chinese citizen is around $3,800 so it goes without saying that most stores there do not have condominiums above them. There might not even be condominiums there, period. And at that amount of income, the stores they do have may very well not even serve coffee. Lest I digress much more, I will share with you my initial response to the comment(or) and how I came up with 7 more since the original posting. All of these should prove reasons enough for me to consider moving to a less 'happening' neighborhood or at the very least, try and kick the coffee habit for good--but with a Grande Costa Rican Blend in the cup next to my keyboard I write:

1) The new requirement, I propose, is that there must be a new Starbucks inside any existing Starbucks-thus creating a Starbucks 'squared' as it were--a Starbucks to the 2nd Power for all you budding String Theorists.

2) No more than three Starbucks on any 4 corner intersection. The sole remaining corner must be reserved as a stroller parking area for the toddling Starbuckonians of the future.

3) A FICO score of at least 620 is required for pre-approval of any Starbucks Coffee Card.(except of course, in China)

4) No predatory lending allowed for any single beverage (coffee, not whiskey) costing more than $7.00 not including tip and tax.

5) The open bottom rack below the glassed-in scone and pastry display of every Starbucks store must be checked three times daily for the E-Coli virus or at the very least Mumps, as all those juice bottles and food items are constantly being handled, touched and licked by the owner/occupants of previously mentioned strollers and perambulators parked on corner 4.

6) At least one Starbucks Manager per 8 hour shift must not be a Vegan.

7) A printed psychological Disclosure, clearly written and posted in a prominent place by the register, is to explain why I should leave a tip for a beverage I had to use an American Express Gold Card to buy and exactly why it is that I feel guilty if I don't. This Disclosure should also direct any interested party to one of the various 'Self-Help' groups already situated in the sofa area of the store at any given time of day.

8) Any neighborhood Starbucks location may not be used as a valid business address for IRS purposes no matter how many hours a day an individual works on a laptop there.

You see, it's a demographic thing. And its really not about Starbucks per se but its customers--myself included. This is who we build for and who I sell to and represent. They are of child bearing age for the most part and although it wasn't the way I was raised, the trend today is to include all family members no matter how young, in day to day events. (They didn't tell us nothin' when I was growing up.) My Broker calls it the 'Suburbanization of Chicago.' Anyway, my kid will be 29 on her next birthday so I wonder why I even care...

And if I have to get in my car and drive to get a cup of coffee then I don't want to live there, either. If I need to access a WiFi signal in the middle of my day then I have 112 choices in the 40 block area that I work in. And what the heck, I use American Express for just about every other thing I buy anyway. And to quote Steve Martin in My Blue Heaven, "...Hey, I'm Italian. I tip everybody." So the answer to the comment is YES...in this writer's opinion it is a prerequisite to have a Starbucks in, or at least close to, any new neighborhood Development. I just won't eat anything off that bottom shelf.


image by martin.netwg

Geno Petro