December 3, 2004
Thin Inventory
We’re heading into the slack season of the real estate market, as homeowners wait for the Holiday season to end before listing their houses. The current inventory is, as of this writing, three hundred eighty-six single family houses, ranging in price from $540,000 (Riverdale Avenue, in Pemberwick) to $37,500,000 (21 Topping Road, twenty-seven acres). I would be remiss not to mention that I hold the least expensive listing in Old Greenwich, a two bedroom, 712 sq.ft. cottage at 3 West End Court, asking $599,000. The inventory has been thin for the past few years, hovering between five hundred and seven hundred homes, in contrast to the last down market a decade ago when there were often a thousand houses available to purchase. It was a frustrating time for sellers, back then, with buyers presenting non-negotiable deals and then walking even after their terms were accepted. The shoe’s on the other foot now, and the sellers are having their revenge. We agents would prefer a happy middle ground, naturally, where neither buyers nor sellers are thwarted by bidding wars or reneging parties. Maybe in the next life. Until then, buyers should keep an eye out for over-priced listings (anything more than three months old is a good starting point) and hope that January will see a new crop of houses. So far, it always has, even if each new season seems to bring a new round of price increases.
Should You be a Real Estate Agent?
I have often joked that, by law, every Greenwich divorcee and laid-off executive is required to become a real estate agent. That’s not quite true, but something must account for there being something like one thousand members of the Greenwich Association of Realtors. It seems like easy money, no doubt: sit around, grab a listing, have someone else sell it for you and pocket 1% of the selling price. There are some factors missing in that calculation, however, among them the huge time commitment required if one is to be a competent agent. You have to know the market; what’s out there, what’s selling, what’s languishing if you are to serve your clients well. That means going out every Tuesday and Thursday, from 10:00 until 2:00, viewing every house listed. This isn’t so bad when you have an active client in a particular price range but when nothing on a given day suits your particular needs, it makes for a long, tedious tour. Which is probably why, out of those thousand agents, only (by my estimate) one hundred fifty of them are regulars. For those agents who haven’t seen, and remembered, every house listed, their relationship with a client can only be a voyage of mutual discovery, which is a complete waste of everyone’s time.
Another thing to consider, unless you have a wealthy spouse willing to underwrite you, is the expense of working for yourself. Your car, its upkeep, medical insurance, retirement savings, social security taxes of 14%, two to three years with little income, all come out of your pocket. This is a long haul business, and few succeed. But if you do, there are benefits. You are your own boss, setting your own hours (but forget taking weekends off). You will meet some great people, some of whom will actually be your clients. And, eventually, you will make a decent income. Nothing to compare to the annual bonus of the twenty-two year old investment banker you’re selling a straining mansion to but hey – Wall Street’s been just thirty-five miles away from here for a long time – if you wanted to descend into those canyons you’d have done so by now, right? Unless, of course, you did do so and were laid off in which case, welcome to the wonderful world of real estate.
Uncharitable Thoughts
At this time of thanksgiving it’s probably not nice to recount the following conversation overheard by a friend at a health club. But who said I was nice? Any way, one of our younger town residents was working out with her own personal trainer and announced that she’d like to extend her workout another thirty minutes. “Don’t you have an appointment to meet someone now? You’ll be late” the trainer points out. “Oh,” says our young Greenwichite, shrugging, “it’s only my real estate agent – she works for me.” Maybe she does, lady, but I sure don’t. I’m not that hungry, and never will be.
Onward to the season of peace, reconciliation and the return of civility towards all.
We’re heading into the slack season of the real estate market, as homeowners wait for the Holiday season to end before listing their houses. The current inventory is, as of this writing, three hundred eighty-six single family houses, ranging in price from $540,000 (Riverdale Avenue, in Pemberwick) to $37,500,000 (21 Topping Road, twenty-seven acres). I would be remiss not to mention that I hold the least expensive listing in Old Greenwich, a two bedroom, 712 sq.ft. cottage at 3 West End Court, asking $599,000. The inventory has been thin for the past few years, hovering between five hundred and seven hundred homes, in contrast to the last down market a decade ago when there were often a thousand houses available to purchase. It was a frustrating time for sellers, back then, with buyers presenting non-negotiable deals and then walking even after their terms were accepted. The shoe’s on the other foot now, and the sellers are having their revenge. We agents would prefer a happy middle ground, naturally, where neither buyers nor sellers are thwarted by bidding wars or reneging parties. Maybe in the next life. Until then, buyers should keep an eye out for over-priced listings (anything more than three months old is a good starting point) and hope that January will see a new crop of houses. So far, it always has, even if each new season seems to bring a new round of price increases.
Should You be a Real Estate Agent?
I have often joked that, by law, every Greenwich divorcee and laid-off executive is required to become a real estate agent. That’s not quite true, but something must account for there being something like one thousand members of the Greenwich Association of Realtors. It seems like easy money, no doubt: sit around, grab a listing, have someone else sell it for you and pocket 1% of the selling price. There are some factors missing in that calculation, however, among them the huge time commitment required if one is to be a competent agent. You have to know the market; what’s out there, what’s selling, what’s languishing if you are to serve your clients well. That means going out every Tuesday and Thursday, from 10:00 until 2:00, viewing every house listed. This isn’t so bad when you have an active client in a particular price range but when nothing on a given day suits your particular needs, it makes for a long, tedious tour. Which is probably why, out of those thousand agents, only (by my estimate) one hundred fifty of them are regulars. For those agents who haven’t seen, and remembered, every house listed, their relationship with a client can only be a voyage of mutual discovery, which is a complete waste of everyone’s time.
Another thing to consider, unless you have a wealthy spouse willing to underwrite you, is the expense of working for yourself. Your car, its upkeep, medical insurance, retirement savings, social security taxes of 14%, two to three years with little income, all come out of your pocket. This is a long haul business, and few succeed. But if you do, there are benefits. You are your own boss, setting your own hours (but forget taking weekends off). You will meet some great people, some of whom will actually be your clients. And, eventually, you will make a decent income. Nothing to compare to the annual bonus of the twenty-two year old investment banker you’re selling a straining mansion to but hey – Wall Street’s been just thirty-five miles away from here for a long time – if you wanted to descend into those canyons you’d have done so by now, right? Unless, of course, you did do so and were laid off in which case, welcome to the wonderful world of real estate.
Uncharitable Thoughts
At this time of thanksgiving it’s probably not nice to recount the following conversation overheard by a friend at a health club. But who said I was nice? Any way, one of our younger town residents was working out with her own personal trainer and announced that she’d like to extend her workout another thirty minutes. “Don’t you have an appointment to meet someone now? You’ll be late” the trainer points out. “Oh,” says our young Greenwichite, shrugging, “it’s only my real estate agent – she works for me.” Maybe she does, lady, but I sure don’t. I’m not that hungry, and never will be.
Onward to the season of peace, reconciliation and the return of civility towards all.
posted by Chris Fountain at 8:10 AM
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