Real estate time zones.

As I write this, many Americans are encouraging the president and his administration to get rid of Daylight Savings Time. I'm in favor of that idea, but I've lived with it all my life and can get through with it to the end if I must. 

For work purposes, the various time zones in our great nation have caused me issues more frequently than DST, but there's nothing that can be done about that. If I'm hired to work with a company on the West Coast, I have to plan scheduling and deadlines on Pacific Time. We're not going to be like China and force our giant nation to all observe Washington time -- nor should we. 

But real estate time zones are causing me the main trouble right now. 

What I mean by that is this: When you sell a house in New York state with a financed purchase, it can take three months from the signing of the purchase agreement to when you get the money and can move. But then the New Yorker, trying to buy a house elsewhere, finds that he may be on the hook for the new place within 30 days -- two months before he has the cash in hand -- because other states don't fart around like we do here. 

This is our situation now. We have a contract to sell our place, but we don't dare make an offer on a house where we want to go until we're further along. People can get stuck this way, not being able to follow through on an offer and losing their entire deposit. 

I'm not blaming anyone. The system is what it is. The danger of falling between chairs is there; we just have to be careful and not jump at buying until our selling is assured. 

Meanwhile, if I want to distract myself from this tense situation, I should probably start trying on every piece of clothing I own. Now is the time to stop saying "When I lose weight I will fit into this" or "Holes or not, this shirt still has some wears in it" and start saying "Trash or giveaway?" Because there is nothing to be gained by paying to move a bunch of stuff hundreds of miles and then throw it all away. 

But trying all those clothes would ruin my day too, so maybe I'll just take a nap. That sounds nice. I think we can all agree on that. 

Say no to pools.

I feel like the only guy who doesn't want a pool at his house. Surely I can't be. 

It would be different if we lived in the south. Relatives in Florida had a heated pool under a skeeter- and UV-blocking screenhouse that was very nice. It wasn't a heated pool, so you really didn't want to go in the water from, say, Thanksgiving to St. Patrick's Day, although you could if you were brave. But here in New York, you get maybe three months out of the pool. They open in May, no one goes in the water until June, they come out for good at Labor Day, and wrap it all up by October. 

It's a lot of work and money for a three-month dip. Besides, most of the time no one actually goes in the water in the families I've observed. They just sit around the pool, tanning. 

Bankrate.com tells us that in-ground swimming pools can add up to seven percent to the value of the house, but they may cost more than that to build and maintain. 

The value they add is more in scenery and potential than swimming. Everyone who wants to entertain knows that guests--especially those with kids--will be excited to come over if there's a pool. The kids will use it, but the adults, probably not. However, it will keep the kids busy. And it looks nicer than a dry, empty, sunbaked backyard with maybe a tetherball and some cornhole stuff. BORING.

I don't want people coming over in large numbers anyway, so I'm cool.

I've resisted successfully, and it has not been too hard. Our backyard has a severe slope, so the cost of installation would be much higher than if the ground was flat. The legally required fencing alone would cost thousands. Financial setbacks over the years have often taken big capital improvements off the table. Most of all, I've resisted because you know whose job it would be out there with the net and the chlorine tester every day. (It's always the husband.) 

Now, this kind of pool might be worth investing in: 

Keep the dogs cool and give 'em a stealth bath while you're at it. Win-win.

Castles, cottages, and cabins.

This castle has towers that are probably full of the bones of fair maidens who died waiting to be rescued by the mighty princes who were imprisoned in the dungeon, whose bones are in the dungeon. There are also bones of fair princesses littering the grounds, badass no-nonsense princesses who were not going to wait for their prince, who plummeted to their deaths. Which at least was faster. This creepy castle is also regularly visited by man-eating dragons, not the kind who sit down and chat with you but the kind that slither up behind you and eat you whole. It takes a while to digest a fully armored knight, but these dragons are prepared to do so. This castle was owned by Mad Queen Plychwych, who liked to drink the blood of infants to stay alive. Didn’t work. Some say she haunts the dark and spiderweb-encrusted halls, rattling chains made of bones, waiting for the Devil to come take her away. Good schools, minutes from train. 18 bd, 12 bth, 25,562 sq ft. Best offer. Contact Bobbi Smith, Better Homes & Gardens Real Estate, 555-9855.

Handyman special, needs a little love and some paint. Manor, stone keep, towers, cellars, kitchens, a great hall, gatehouse, chapel, amazing views. Unlimited parking. Not all features still in place. Terrific fixer-upper bargain. For sale by owner. Serious inquiries only. Contact Glenn c/o Knobblebury Pizzeria and Post Office. 

Begorrah! Sure'n 'tis a perfect little country cottage ye be wantin', and this little thatched item is just what ye need! Two rooms (not incl. mushrooms), outdoor bath, charming windehs, cozy as a goldcrest's nest. Secluded. 1/2 pot o' gold or equivalent lucky charm value. Listing via Sean Seamus Fergus-Fergus at Fergus-Fergus and Fergus-Fergus, Inc., fergusfergusfergusfergus.com.

Lovely cabin for sale. Excellent accents, gorgeous accessories, location fungible. You will tell your friends: Isn't it good? Swedish wood! Some assembly required. Free meatballs. Visit us at ikea.com for more details. 

Paradise on earth! Amazing place, perfect weather, opportunities galore! Highly diverse population in exciting location! Plenty of wealth to be made for spirited go-getters. Wonderful schools, incredible shopping -- no place finer in the nation. Restrictions apply. Many, many, many restrictions apply. Call today! Inquire c/o G. Newsom, gov. 

Dim bulb.

Sometimes I get very angry over things that properly call for an angry response -- although fury is seldom a useful feeling, even for things like injustice and cruelty. At least it's appropriate. Sometimes I find myself mad enough to strike out over things that I can only characterize as stupid. Here's one that really got me worked up, and it's something that involves me not in the slightest.

What you see below is a picture from a house that was built in 1959 that had been empty for a few months before a flipper bought it. I thought he might have it knocked flat and build new, but apparently not. No, he is having it renovated and is apparently he is being exceptionally cheap about it. Rather than have the old, patchy wooden siding pulled off and replaced, he's having vinyl siding slapped on right over it. Holes, termite damage, rot, who cares? Just cover it up. This strikes me as execrable foolishness -- careless parsimony that could come back to haunt him.

But that's not the stupid part. It's the light:

Next to the front door are these four glass panels over the staircase, the kind of thing that makes the house unique and even a little awesome. And what did he put in for the new light fixture? A goddamn shaded lamp, the kind you hang over your kitchenette table, and not just that but the cheapest one he could possibly find.

This goes beyond stingy and straight into stupid. It takes the single most eye-catching part of the exterior and turns it into a cheesy flashlight. A space like this needs a large hanging light, the kind of thing that is itself an attraction. Here's a piece from another building, contemporary to this one:

Not a good picture, but you get the idea: Large, colorful, stylish, artistic, practical for the space but dead on for the aesthetic, the kind of thing that helps make someone fall for the house as he or she is getting out of the car. By going cheap on the fixture, this nincompoop is going to lose buyers he could have grabbed right away, and P.S., is leaving the stairway underlit. It's so dumb I want to slap somebody. He's not just fishing with no bait, he's fishing with no hook.

I'm no decorator. If it were a bachelor I probably would have furnished the house with clearance-sale stuff from the furniture store. But I know that a great space needs a great light, and this dumb-ass blew it. What adds the willfulness to the stupidity is the penny-pinching, and willful stupidity should be punished quickly and effectively. There's no excuse for this.

GAH!

I wonder about this real estate guy.

I think he used to run political campaigns.