Elizabeth Weintraub • Sacramento Short Sale Agent • Land Park

I did a rare thing yesterday afternoon. I went to lunch with my husband. One of his freelance employers gave him a gift certificate to the L-Wine Lounge in Midtown Sacramento, so that's where we headed. Unfortunately, the L-Wine Lounge is no longer serving lunch, probably due to the situation with our state furloughs in Sacramento. So, we walked over to Celestin's Restaurant on K Street, which serves up fairly decent Caribbean and Cajun cuisine.

On the way, we passed 3 parking ticket payment machines. In all 3 instances, a person stood in front of the ticket dispenser reading the directions and looking puzzled. I could relate. The first time I used one of these new-fangled machines to get a parking ticket, I was so confused that I crumpled the actual ticket, threw it on the floor of my car and stuck the blank portion on my car window. Of course, I got a parking ticket. It's a stupid system designed by an alien.

After lunch, I asked my husband if he would mind stopping at See's Candy on J Street. Somebody sent me 2 gift certificates to See's a while back. They were dated in December of 2008, and I've been carrying them around ever since. With my hand on the door handle to See's, my cell rang. It was a listing agent, calling to say her sellers had accepted my buyer's purchase offer without a counter offer. Eureka. OK, now I really craved chocolate. But first I had to call my client to let her know she got the home in Sacramento. She's a first-time home buyer, and I knew how much this news would mean to her. So, I wasn't paying attention when I opened the door.

Whoa, that store was packed. Wall-to-wall people. What are all these people doing at See's Candy on a Friday afternoon? Duh, my husband reminded me, it's the Friday before Valentine's Day. I couldn't even see the counter where all the chocolate-covered cherries were probably hiding for all the people in front of it. Instead, I grabbed a pound of dark chocolates, a pound of milk chocolates and headed for the check-out line.

See's Candy was founded in 1921, the year my grandmother had turned 21. It was my grandmother's favorite candy store. Whenever she came to visit me when I was a kid, she'd bring me a box of See's Candy. She said it was the best candy in the world, right next to that peanut brittle she'd buy from those interstate truck stops in Nebraska. As we stood in line, I shared these thoughts with my husband. The woman in front of us turned around and said, "I agree with her; See's Candy is the best in the world."

Now, in case you think chocolate is fattening, let me share something with you. Each one-pound box of See's Candy contains about 24 pieces. Two pieces equal about 160 calories. That means if you were to eat the entire box, you'd have consumed about 1,920 calories, which might sound like a lot until you figure that it takes 3,500 calories above your normal daily intake to gain one pound. Would you be willing to take on a half pound to eat an entire box of See's Candy? Yeah, I think I might.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

I get business one of two ways these days. Either people find me on the Internet or they are referred by previous clients. When I ask callers who found me on the Internet why they picked me, I often get the same answer. It's rarely because they believe I am brilliant, witty or experienced. Rats. They say it's because I have a friendly face.

If people are looking at the Lyon Real Estate website for Midtown Sacramento agents, my profile is all the way at the bottom. Because my last name is Weintraub, and it's sorted alphabetically. My office services primarily East Sacramento, Land Park, Curtis Park, Midtown and downtown Sacramento. At the bottom of the Lyon website is not the best place to be. I mean, a person's scrolly finger can wear out getting down to the bottom. We have more than 80 agents in our office.

Although I'm happy to be blessed with a friendly face and personality, I don't think that's the best reason to choose a real estate agent. But consumers have very little information to choose from when scrolling through photographs of real estate agents.

As I was driving along Business 80 yesterday on my way to show a home, I received a phone call from a prospective home buyer. She was calling about a listing in Sacramento. OK, what is the street? She yelled into my ear: Sacramento! No, what is the name of the street? She screamed again as though I was deaf: Sacramento, California!

Excuse me, I can't give you information about a listing if you don't tell me the name of the street where the home is located. What is the name of the street? The buyer finally responded: Cougar. I know that street. That's not an area where I specialize, but I told the buyer that I would be happy to refer her to another agent to show that home.

The buyer decided to argue with me, saying her mortgage broker told her that real estate agents can show homes anywhere in Sacramento. She insisted that I show her that home. Hey, it wasn't my listing. Instead, I referred her to my associate who is a neighborhood specialist in that area. To protect the innocent, let's say my associate's name is Bonnie. I gave her Bonnie's phone number.

A few minutes later, the buyer called back. She said, "I want to work with an American."

"I can assure you that Bonnie is an American."

"No, she's not," the caller hissed, "I got her voice mail, and her last name is Hernandez."

My mind went blank. I was shocked. It took me a few seconds to figure out what this caller was saying to me. I guess I must live in a protected world because I rarely run into this type of discrimination; although, sadly, I am aware that it exists. I didn't quite know how to respond, so I did what I usually do and relied on my gut instincts, my immediate reaction.

"I can't help you," I replied, "Because I don't work with bigoted people." I swerved to miss a slow-moving vehicle, pulled my cellphone out of its holster and pressed the "end call" button. I was kinda surprised at my reaction because I don't ordinarily hang up on callers. But she royally offended me.

Photo by Big Stock Photo

As you're reading this, you may think, "Oh, no, she dumped another cup of coffee into her keyboard again." I do this about twice a year. But I did no such thing. Unless my cat sneaked up on my desk and puked on it when I wasn't looking. Nope, this time I was just typing along when all of a sudden a bunch of 8's started to appear within my words. Like something out of the Twilight Zone.

I changed out the batteries for my keyboard and mouse. Still 8's. Shoved the keyboard aside and plugged in my Apple keyboard. The behavior continued. Why was my keyboard possessed? What did I do to deserve this?

Well, time was at a premium so I called customer support at Apple. See, this is the nice thing about working on a Mac. No long wait for customer support. It cost me $50 to find out the problem was my wireless keyboard. The tech guy said you can spill something in your keyboard and it won't necessarily quit working at that point. It can take months to fry it.

Fortunately, I have an OfficeMax in Midtown Sacramento, not too far from my home. OfficeMax assured me on the phone that it had a wireless ergonomic keyboard. I asked the clerk to check 3 times but when I got there, turned out he was mistaken. No surprise. Instead, I found a Logitech with tons of bells and whistles for $130. Grabbed it, took 4 phone calls on my way to the cash register. This time I decided to buy a 2-year warranty for $35 that replaced the keyboard for free in the event of "accidental handling."

Unpacked the box at home, removed the plastic film, inserted batteries, put the disk in my drive and opened the instruction booklet. Crap. Windows XP or Vista. That's what I get for yakking on my cell and not paying attention to what I'm buying. Just because it's a USB device doesn't mean it's cross platform.

Shoved everything into the box and drove back to the Midtown Office Max store. After much discussion, I discovered that OfficeMax has an ergonomic Microsoft 4000 keyboard on sale for $39 (retail: $60). Just like my former keyboard except it wasn't wireless. Did I really need wireless? Where do I ever take my keyboard? No where, that's where.

What I need is a wireless mouse, and I didn't like my old mouse. So, I bought a new wireless mouse that folds up. I can use it with my PC laptop, too.

OfficeMax offered me a 2-year warranty on this keyboard for $15. But at a $39 price point, a warranty is unnecessary. I figured it's better to buy two keyboards. This way I'll always have a spare. Beats forking out $150 every 6 months for a new keyboard and mouse, don't you agree?

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, available at Amazon.com

Photo: Big Stock Photo

If you're looking for a Midtown agent who knows the Grid, call Elizabeth Weintraub at 916.233.6759. My office is at the corner of 28th & J Streets.

Jenny Lewis doesn't disappoint. Members of the audience at the Empire last night were hoping to hear tracks from Lewis' new release, Acid Tongue, and Lewis and her band delivered those tunes -- while not exactly flawlessly, which is also an attraction to see a live show, but effortlessly, with spirit. If you've never heard Jenny Lewis, her voice is a Stradivarius: sweet, silky and sultry.

My husband suggested we arrive at the nightclub on R Street in Sacramento about 5:45 PM to ensure seating. There aren't a lot of tables and chairs, and this was an all-age show, with a section reserved for those over 21. All I can say is I was thankful it wasn't mid July, because we ended up standing in line for an hour. Doors were supposed to open at 6 PM.

We haven't been to the Empire for a while. The last show we saw at that venue was a dual billing several years ago, Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven. Since then, R Street has watched a Paragary's restaurant come and go, and the north side of the block between 14th and 15th has exploded with restaurants, lots of outdoor seating and people milling about.

As I glinted into the sun, I spied some dude walking up the sidewalk carrying a huge owl. Wait, that couldn't be right. Oh, of course not. That's not an owl, how silly of me. It's a monkey. Perhaps a spider monkey. My brain didn't register the fact that regardless of whether the guy was toting a live hooting owl or a monkey, you just don't see those sorts of things on the street but it didn't seem out of place. As he got closer, it was apparent he wasn't carrying either of those animals. It was a chihuahua with sunglasses. Still.

Once inside, more than an hour later, we scored a table as close to the stage as we could get, and I squeezed my butt into one of those George Jetsen swivel chairs. My husband scouted up a menu, we selected fish tacos, onion rings and a Caesar salad, and my husband left the table to order from the bartender. Well, she wasn't really a bartender because she wasn't old enough to sell cocktails. My husband said nobody has ever ordered food from her before because she had no idea about how to ring up the purchases or when the food would arrive. So my husband waited at the bar.

The Empire used to have waitresses, before the downturn in the economy, but there was none in sight last night. We didn't get the onion rings for some reason, they substituted French fries, and none of the prices on the menu matched our receipt, but what the hey, we weren't there for dinner. Dinner was just something we do around 7 PM. We were there to hear Jenny Lewis.

The show started late, after 8 PM, after an opening act from LA, The Dawes. Lewis swung out on stage, sashaying and dipping, sporting a hat you'd expect to see Tom Waitt wear -- which topped her long, wavy, red locks -- a light-colored shirt with a vest, paired with tight jeans. Her show was filled with haunting melodies, fast-paced rock, syrupy country and psychedelic rock all rolled into one. My favorite was Godspeed:

Godspeed to you
Keep the lighthouse in sight

Oops, I'm out of time. I have to run out to Folsom early this morning to take a listing. Just want to add that if you missed Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins or have never heard Rabbit Fur Coat, you're in for a treat if you pick up a couple of Jenny Lewis CDs.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming in June 2009.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

Have you ever noticed that many older people, especially those past the age of 50, rarely smile in photographs? Even many celebrities don't smile when their picture is taken. I suspect it's because when we age, our teeth change. Some get longer in the tooth, some teeth twist. I never knew what it meant when an older person would say about his or her age, "Hey, at least I have all my own teeth."

If you're one of those lucky individuals who go to the dentist a couple times a year and never have any dental problems, then you might not be interested in finding an excellent dentist or a periodontist in Midtown, Sacramento. However, if you're at that, um, age when you need to preserve that smile, I can definitely refer you to great services.

I switched dentists last year because I was unhappy with my present dentist. Apart from the fact that she refused to change her billing system and continued to send my dental bills to my husband, she lacked communication skills. I had asked her to fix a little groove in one tooth that seemed to attract plaque. When I got the bill, I discovered she had worked on two teeth instead. Since it was purely cosmetic, I was confused as to why she didn't follow my wishes.

I discovered that every time I left her office, I was irritated. Now, when I was younger, I used to believe that it didn't matter if I liked my dentist. It was like going to the car wash. The dentist did her or his job, and I was out of there. But now that I've reached that certain age, having faith and trust in my dentist has become important. Just like a home buyer or seller should have faith and trust in a real estate agent. It's a business relationship that can affect your entire future.

Last week I had implants. This is a process where your existing teeth are removed months prior, you go through an agonizing process of wearing a temporary plate, and then the dentist drills a hole in your jaw and sort of screws in a post that will hold your crowns. If you're considering that type of procedure, or need a bridge or even just crowns, you really want a team of specialists.

My dentist explained that I could choose the type of smile I wanted -- the shape, color and contour of my new teeth. He suggested I not choose the smile of an 18-year-old because it would look silly at my age. I looked online at a bazillion photographs of older women smiling. Didn't like Jamie Lee Curtis' smile nor that of Mary Tyler Moore. Hmmm, Julie Roberts was a possibility but way too much gum showing. She's also much younger than me. Jane Fonda's smile is just weird. I finally settled on Sally Field. OK, she's a bit older, but she has a fabulous smile.

I highly recommend my periodontist Dr. Leland Lee. His office is located at the corner of 22nd and Capitol, phone: 916.444.1121. Plus, he puts you out during the procedure, and for a wimp like me, that's important. His office staff is fabulous, and he is meticulous in his work. My regular dentist is Dr. James D. Coyle, and his office is across the street at 2201 Capitol Avenue, Suite 101, phone: 916.444.2957. Dr. Coyle has been a dentist probably forever, he has excellent communication skills and is simply awesome. When I leave his office, I am always smiling.

And this week I walked out with my Sally Field's smile.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming in June 2009.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

If you're a home buyer or seller in Midtown, Sacramento, who needs a Midtown real estate agent and would like to see my Sally Field's smile in person, call or email me: 916.233.6759, elizabeth at elizabethweintraub.com.

I showed a buyer homes in Midtown, Sacramento, last weekend. As we drove, the buyer asked me what I thought of my fellow REALTORS. That sounded like an odd question, so before answering, I probed. He said that when he bought his first home, he looked at more than 20 homes with four different agents. The reason he kept changing agents was because if he didn't buy a home during the first tour, the agent lost interest and dropped him.

The question he asked implied that agents are only out for themselves. That's the part that bothered me. I believe that when an agent accepts a client as a buyer, that agent has a duty to perform to that buyer's expectations. If it takes showing 20 homes or even 100 homes, then we show 20 or 100 homes.

Of course, previewing homes before showing, counseling the buyer and selectively choosing the homes that meet the buyer's objectives cuts down on the number of homes a buyer needs to see before coming to a decision to make an offer.

In reality, though, I showed this Midtown buyer 5 homes before he chose to write an offer. However, I have worked with some buyers for several years to find that perfect home. That's what agents do.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming June 2009.

Photo illustration: Flickr

I received a very disturbing email from an agent I'm in escrow with. Her husband threw her a 30th birthday party at The MoMo Lounge, a block away from my midtown Lyon real estate office at 27th and J Streets. According to my friend, her husband was assured there would be security provided for this very important and private party.

In the middle of this special occasion over the weekend, the agent saw three people she did not know standing by the handbags. She walked over to question them, asking if they were friends of her husband. The man spat in her face, then punched her in face and he pushed her to the ground. Then his two female companions held her on the ground, pulled out huge chunks of her hair, while the man continued to kick and stomp on her.

Please be careful if you plan private parties with public access in Midtown. And please, get a guarantee on security. This is so dreadful, I hardly know what to say about it except that I am feeling very worried and anxious about this agent. Fortunately, she went to see her family physician. She has bruises, is sore and has a mild concussion. The victim's husband is distraught and blaming himself because security was not in force.

She's filing a police report today. Crime can happen anywhere. Not just in Midtown.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming soon to a bookstore near you.

A client called me yesterday, sounding in somewhat a panic. He and his wife bought a high water bungalow in Midtown a few months ago. Among the many glorious features shared by homes in Midtown, Sacramento, this home also has wood floors, bordered by inlaid mahogany, but the floors needed to be refinished. As the floor refinisher was securing loose boards, he managed to drill a couple screws not into the joist below but into a copper pipe running to the water heater.

Did I know a good plumber? I'd say out of the emergencies that could happen in a home, plumbing is an immediate concern because it involves water. You never hear of anybody screaming hysterically, "I need a framer to build a wall in the next 30 minutes or we're all gonna die."

Here's a couple tips for you: Don't ever work on plumbing in the middle of the night when all the stores are closed. And keep your plumber's number handy, taped to the back of your landline or programmed into your cell or stuck to the water heater.

The floor refinisher is picking up the cost to install a new copper line. Let me tell you, copper ain't cheap nowadays.

But I know how the poor guy felt. I had removed a tub from a second-floor bath in a former house -- back in my buy, fix and sell decade -- and hired a plumber to install new plumbing in the floor and walls for a shower. After he left, I put the fiberglass base in place and tried to secure it to the wall studs. Unknown to me, the plumber had cut away the bottom portion of the studs under the shower handle. So, when I drove a screw into the spot where the stud should have been, I drilled a hole right through the copper pipe, which sprang a leak.

Fortunately, for me, the plumber came right back and fixed it. He felt badly about it because only a few days earlier, he had put his foot through the Sheetrocked ceiling below, but that's another story for another time.

The moral of this story is use a stud finder, if you need to, and mark where the studs or joists are located before drilling or poking metal objects through floors, walls or ceilings. I think I shall buy a caseload of them to hand out as closing presents from now on.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming to a bookstore near you in February.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

Sometimes it's difficult to figure out whether an agent could be compromising his or her fiduciary relationship with a seller or violating the law regarding material facts. Real estate agents in CA are required to disclose material facts to a buyer. It doesn't matter whether the agent is a listing agent or a buyer's agent, all material facts must be disclosed.

A material fact is a matter that, if known by the buyer, would cause the buyer to pay less for the home or perhaps even walk away from the purchase; it's a matter that affects the transaction. Typically, if an agent has to question whether an issue qualifies as a material fact, the answer is yes, it is a material fact and should be disclosed. One way to look at this is to ask: "Would I want to know?"

On the other hand, if a seller discloses an item that is not a material fact and the agent passes along information to the buyer that causes the buyer to walk away, the agent could be violating her fiduciary relationship with the seller.

I had been working to sell a Midtown Sacramento listing for 16 months, 18 days and 7 hours, but who's counting. It was a difficult listing because the home needed extensive repair with much deferred maintenance. The acceptable offer threw the home into short sale status. I asked the seller to complete the transfer disclosure statement and other seller disclosures that are required by California law.

During the process, the seller decided that the TDS didn't provide enough room on the form to properly explain everything that he knew or didn't know about the home. He began to obsess over the disclosure. Finally, he decided to write his own addendum to the transfer disclosure statement. It was four pages long. He then emailed it to me and asked for my input.

Personally, I didn't believe he should have written Gone With the Wind and gone into such excruciatingly detailed depth when a simple "I don't know" would have sufficed. He hypothesized situations that could arise and propagated them. After I shared my thoughts with him, the seller said, "Don't send the addendum to the buyer. I'll cover those issues in the TDS."

The buyers were already freaking out over the home inspection report and thinking about canceling the transaction.

Before I tell you how I handled this situation, I'd like to hear from the real estate agents who read my blog. Tell me, what would you do? Is that addendum a material fact? If you gave such a document to the buyer and the buyer canceled, would the seller have a right to sue you?

The Short Sale, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming from publisher Archer Ellison in January 2009.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

Some Sacramento buyers looking for bank-owned REO homes are finding it difficult, if not impossible, to make an offer on a bank-owned home. Because not every REO lender will sell to them.

How can that be, you may wonder? Aren't banks eager to dump their foreclosured homes as quickly as possible? Why would an REO bank refuse to sell a home to an able and willing buyer?

John and Mary, let's call them, sent me an email asking to see a bank-owned home in the Alhambra corridor in Midtown Sacramento. This was a property I had toured several weeks ago, so I knew it had no electricity, which meant we couldn't see it after 4:30 because it would be too dark.

I pulled up the listing in MLS to check that it was still available because many of the really REO hot deals fly into escrow within weeks, if not days, of listing inception.

The confidential comments to agents clearly stated the bank will not sell to a buyer who was obtaining financing, meaning the bank will consider offers only from all-cash buyers. This foreclosure wasn't on the market long enough for the bank to reconsider this requirement either.

I explained to John and Mary that they were not candidates for this home because they were not cash buyers. Stands to reason since the second floor was gutted (health and safety issue) and the first floor was not much better; it was a definite fixer.

Not only do some banks refuse offers with financing, some of the homes are unsuitable for FHA financing as well, unless the buyer is willing to take out a Streamline K loan. And those loans carry higher interest rates.

The fact is homes in Midtown Sacramento are much older and can carry deferred maintenance, which reduces market value on those bank-owned homes. Some are for sale under $200,000, which makes buyers' eyes bug-out.

"But you don't understand," Mary replied, "I want to buy this home. And I want to buy it tonight." I apologized to them. Would they like to see a couple other bank-owned homes in that vicinity? No, they did not.

If John and Mary had been willing to meet with me to discuss their purchase options, I am certain I could have helped them to buy a bank-owned home, and they would be in escrow by now. I do it every week. Bank-owned homes and short sales are my specialty. But some buyers believe they will get a better deal by driving around town and calling listing agents who don't answer their phones. I can't help the foreclosure buyers who don't want to be helped.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

The Short Sale, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming from Archer Ellison in January 2009.