I was born at night. But it wasn’t last night.
A quick refresh… I had a small ranch in Evergreen, Colorado. A ranchette for all you Texans who are actual ranchers. Me? I was all hat and no cattle. But… it was my sacred space. Until it wasn’t.
What ruined that holy site is a family matter. Something about a ranch in the middle of nowhere turned into party central. It was time to git.
It sold in a heartbeat for way more than the advertised price. Happy. When I told my CPA I was going to take the one-time geezer pass and keep all the money (if one is over 65 you can keep the money and avoid capital gains). He told me that would be great. And smart. Except The Florida Orange got rid of that option in his first term. I had to reinvest in another property. Sad.
I discovered if you sell in Colorado you cannot buy in Colorado. Or New Mexico.
So… I bought in Orvieto, Italia. Got a nice apartment, furnished and designed by a fine interior decorator. Named it Casa Carlo. After my Nono (grandfather) who left his village when he was 13, traveled the world on a ship, learned his bakery trade on that boat, came to America and started this crazy Bisio clan. More on my Nono in a future post.
We secured a property management company to rent Casa Carlo when we were not in Orvieto, and the first two years were great. The place rented all the time. And that told me…
The rent was too low. When I sent an email to our property manager stating such I was told that she knew the market and I did not. I am a photographer. I ain’t no business guru. My wife, Therese, however, is. I was a genius when I asked her to take over the management of Casa Carlo.
Last May we had a “strategy” meeting with the property management company. Therese was excited to plot out the coming years for Casa Carlo and Casa Therese (more on Casa Therese in a future post). Me, not so much. I promised her I would attend the meeting, not say anything and let her do all the wheeling and dealing. In this meeting I kept that promise.
When we went to their office we were met by a young woman from corporate. Having been in higher ed for 25 years, I knew this was a bad sign. The meeting began with…
“We think Casa Carlo’s rent is too low,” the young woman from corporate said. I was sitting on my hands. Should have used one of them to cover my mouth.
“What was your first clue? Was it because it rented nearly everyday in 2024?” Under the table I felt Therese’s firm grip on my thigh which made me reminisce of our dating days 43 years ago. I digress…
The YWFC (young woman from corporate) then handed Therese a folder with the new contract to manage both of our homes.
“Don’t read this now,” she said. “Take it with you and let’s meet next week to discuss it.” Here comes some bad news.
Therese was pretty excited to review the new contract. As we walked home she asked if I would like to read it with her.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“It was the ‘don’t read this here, take it with you’ directive that told me we were about to get fornicated and not even kissed. Call me a skeptic. But I’ve had too many years in academia to think there is anything good in the new contract.”
“Oh my God. No way,” I heard her say from the kitchen where she sat to read the document.
“What’s it say?”
The braintrust from corporate offered, for 400 euros… per property, each month, they would check on the properties twice a month, not meet the person, people renting it, not check on the property after each guest leaves. And… they still wanted their 20% commission.
At the next meeting and I let Therese down. I spoke. And, according to everyone in the meeting, not very nicely. I was respectful… I thought.
“Let’s say Casa Carlo rents for 1.000,00 euros. You take your 400. We have 600. You take your 20%. We have 400. After taxes, utilities, cleaning and water, Therese and I would clear between 65 and 110 euros from a 1.000,00 euro rent.
“I have a great idea.”
I pushed the folder and the new contract toward our realtor (who sold us both Casa Carlo and Casa Therese) and said, “Why don’t you buy back both properties from us, at current market value, and I will be your property manager.” I got a blank stare.
“Even you would not sign this agreement.”
I apologized and told all attendees how frustrated I was because Casa Therese is going on two years of a remodel, and because my “new darkroom was not completed, as promised, by the end of April, I cannot offer my film photography workshops until 2026. I had scheduled (but not advertised) the first workshop for September 2025 and now I cannot take the chance of offering it and have no darkroom.”
YWFC said, “Go ahead and advertise the workshop. I’m sure the contractor will have your darkroom completed by September.”
I told her that’s not how it works. I have to use the darkroom for a couple of weeks, test the four enlargers, make sure everything is running smoothly before I have the first workshop. I again apologized for my frustration at being so far behind schedule.
“Well, Kenn,” YWFC said. “What you don’t realize is Italians are always late, but we are always on time.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked. Then I declared…
“I need gelato.”
And I got up and left the meeting and did just that.
Next post: Casa Therese. Paid cash and closed April 9, 2024. Little did I know
