The Old School — Learning From The Dinosaurs — Belated Thanks
Posted @ 11:57 am - Filed under Real Estate Investing, Sez Me, Mentoring
Today I want to take some time to speak to you from the heart. Those who know me well will be surprised to read that sentence. Friends and family will tell you I’m a sensitive guy. I’ll leave that sort of thing to others, and speak for myself.
Real estate investors come from different schools. There’s the Buy & Hold Forever school. Selling any property for
nearly any reason is a sin against God. These are very serious people. I know cuz I used to do battle with them back in the days when I was the son in Brown and Brown Investment Properties. They were his clients, who wondered, often aloud in my presence, why he put up with me. 
As far as I was concerned they were charter members of The Old School as was Dad. In fact, and I’m being literal here — my dad actually did go to school for several years in a little red school house. Wow.
Raised to be respectful, especially of my elders, I would glance at Dad, roll my eyes dramatically, and make some joke about nepotism being a good thing. This used to irritate Dad in a major way, as he knew the truth. He was a house guy turned real estate attorney with an investment broker son. He repeatedly told them I was the one to which they should listen. To no avail. The problem however, was not generated solely from their side of the table.
In my DNA was the innate ability to deal well with people, one on one. Problem was, it hadn’t been activated back then. I was a 29 years old, and couldn’t fathom why they couldn’t understand what I was saying. In investment real estate back then, 29 years old was a teenager. Dad said it would come, just keep it up. I should relax he said. I knew what I was talking about he said. They’d eventually see that. Regardless of the fact Dad had zero investment training, and repeatedly told them how much training I had, it didn’t matter. In their eyes, he was The Man.
That all changed one day at the local bank. What happened that day would forever change not only how Dad’s clients/friends viewed me, but how he himself did. It’s actually not that big a deal, though they sure thought so. They all new this banker, as he was the president, and golfed with them now and then. They were all dinosaurs from where I was coming. I felt perpetually ganged up on. It was as if there shoulda been warnings like we see on certain roads. You know, deer crossings.
Here’s the short version.
An investment client wanted, in the worst way, to buy a mixed use property on a main street in a suburb located in San Diego’s East County. I don’t wanna say it was old, but I think Cortez may have stayed in one of the cottages once. It consisted of three commercial spaces, with sidewalk frontage. In back were seven of the cutest little one bedroom cottages you’ve ever seen. The courtyard between all these buildings was brick flatwork that brought it all together.
It was a fixer. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being buildings held up by virtue of the termite union agreeing to hold hands, this was probably a 3-4. It’s only real problems were years of inattention and age. My client had a successful retail store down the street and around the corner. He knew it was a potential gold mine. People would kill to live in the back, (correct) and the storefronts never got old on that street.
The banker made some loan demands he thought were impossible to meet. I went back to the office and attacked the problem with my trusty HP 38E, which is now a 12C, which now, as my clients know, I refer to as my brains. When my solution not only met, but exceeded his needs, he was good to his word — he made the loan.
Back to The Old School.
From that point on, and no doubt at least in part cuz the bank prez told the whole story to Dad and all his friends while golfing — they began to ask me for advice every now and then. It was at that point I was grateful their species of dinosaurs could talk.
One day it finally got to me, and I asked Dad why that one episode with the banker seemed to make such a difference. His answer sticks with me always.
Paraphrased after almost a bizillion years…
“Son, it’s simple. You demonstrated knowledge and expertise. Only this time you weren’t such a smart aleck. Also, since you actually did know what you were talking about, it came through, loud and clear. And that’s why my dinosaur friends are listening to you now.”
To this day, I’ve always avoided like the plague what I thought was Dad’s wish. Turns out I never had a chance. I was meant to be Old School. Though it’s too late for him to realize his success, I’m sure this is how he always visualized our company picture.
He went on to say I could’ve made it happen sooner by answering their questions the same way I did with the banker. In other words, answer questions with more detail, explanation, and evidence as possible. Nothing replaces competence founded upon actually understanding the words flowing out of your mouth. People know real when they see it.
That’s why to this day I proudly call myself Old School — cuz I wouldn’t have it any other way.
And to Ray, Lew, Jack, Andy, Ellsworth, Jim, Bobby, and the rest of the now departed dinosaurs — I miss you guys. You never made it easy for me. You demanded I toe the line and understand the business I was in. You prepared me for the times in which we now find ourselves. Nobody has ever made me feel I belonged in this side of the business the way you guys did. When challenged you insisted I stare back calmly while inundating the questioner with a specific answer to their specific question — plus answers to the questions they should’ve asked.
To all of you I say a simple but heartfelt Thank You.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 9th, 2008 at 11:57 am and is filed under Real Estate Investing, Sez Me, Mentoring. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
