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Stress - a "dirty" word?


Les

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I am about 50 miles from Les in the Flint area (murder capital of the US) and I can tell you he is not exaggerating.

About 80 percent of the houses I am inspecting are HUD owned. You can not imagine the condition they are in. They have ALL been striped, gutted, vandalized, copper stolen, basements flooded, light fixtures missing, full of mold, etc. etc. etc..

The inspections would not be so bad if they were straight forward - list wants wrong to help the buyer figure out what they have to put into them. Unfortunately the young buyers all think the $15,000 house they're buying is a great deal and will be worth $80,000 again next year.

When they hear from the inspector how much money (that they don't have) they will have to put into the house to make it habitable they get pretty bummed out. The buyers become upset, the Realtors get mad, and the inspector get pressure from both sides. It can be very depressing.

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You should definitely do that Jimmy. I'd give everything I own to be able to have just one more beer with my dad.

I'm 41 and have had enough beer with my Dad to float an aircraft carrier. We've drained 'em in countless places, a dozen states, three countries, and two continents. Air, sea, and rail. I'm sure I didn't appreciate them all, but i never took one for granted.

Anyone here remember Ballantine Ale? Schlitz?

These days, he's kind of tame, smiles a lot, and like to laugh at old times. Sorry to hear you can't have one with your Dad, but you're welcome to join us if you're in the area.

We used to drink a lot of Rolling Rock.

Now I enjoy drinking Yuengling. The first time I heard of it I thought it was some type of Asian beer. Now I know it is from PA and has been around for a very long time. It is a good beer for the price.

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I've spent a fair bit of time in South Central PA and I believe Yuengling (sp?) is that state's oldest brewery. Maybe the oldest in the country? Anyway, I agree good beer, reasonably priced. Much better than the Keystone Light I drank in college. If there is a more watered-down, tasteless beer in America, I've yet to encounter it.

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Dang it! I'm trying to do a report and this talk about Yuengling has got my mind a wandering. So I wandered out to the fridge and grabbed a cold one. Well, it is after midnight.

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Yes, Yuengling is America's oldest brewery. It's not just a name that's survived for 181 years, it's still family owned. If you're anywhere near eastern PA, the tour of the plant is incredible. You actually walk through the plant, around the production lines. I've always wondered how their insurance company allows it. I found somebody's slideshow of their tour on Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/spkaine/se ... 3175/show/

About 15 years ago, I was going to take my wife and stepdaughters on the tour but we were late and missed it. As we were leaving, we saw Dick Yuengling standing outside. He was waiting for his daughters. They were going to a Phillies game. We struck up a conversation that lasted about 15 minutes. He talked about stuff from the history of the business, to his plans for expansion (which happened just about as he said they would) to how he hoped to turn things over to his daughters some day. While I was originally disappointed that I wasn't going to tour the plant again, our chance encounter with Mr. Yuengling turned my frown upside down.

To get things back on topic, Yuengling lager is a dandy antidote for stress!

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My step father has a collection of the Utica Club Steins, my father actually drank it.

I'd like to be a beer snob, but when I can't afford it Yuengling is good stuff. I had a black and tan with dinner last night.

My very first beer was a Schlitz. I was 8 or 9 and the old man promised me a beer if I managed to get up an water skis. It took everything I had, but hey - a beer is a beer. Speaking of the old coot, I recently reconnected with my father after nearly 15 years. A beer with dad is a good thing. Jimmy, enjoy your day with your dad.

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How so? I heard about his Mom but not his father. Or perhaps I should check the archives. I'm still the new guy on the first page.

Marc

Well, this isn’t exactly the proper forum to go on bragging about your father, but then… impropriety & me a long history, so I’ll indulge in a little sentimentality. Thanks for the kind words and the opening, Les.

In 1982, my father was a 47 year old civil engineer; an underpaid, upper middle manager in the Federal Dept. of Transportation. His secretary had just bought a 3 family investment property in Lynn, MA and told him how helpful her home inspection report was.

My Dad grew up fixing things with his own hands and had by that time he’d bought and fixed up two 100+ year old homes in which to house his wife and seven hungry children. He’d never heard of a home inspection before. She brought her report in to the office and showed it to him and he said: ‘You paid $100 for this?’

In August of 1983, he hung out a shingle and became a home inspector. I was 13 years old and paid almost no attention to his new interest.

He heard about ASHI and started going to local chapter meetings with Phil Monahon, Mel Chalfen, Tony Galeota, Bill Sutton, and Werner Carlson. He still refers to those men as the ‘long ball hitters’ and was always pleased if he was mentioned in the same breath as them.

These days, he isn’t, but professionally he was irascible, intransigent and incontrovertible at all times. He is very bright, has an unparalleled devotion to family, and I’ve never heard anyone accuse him of speaking a dishonest word. He would often laugh to me in the truck after a job and say: ‘I may be wrong, but I am never in doubt!’.

He never refused a fellow home inspector a favor and helped many get started in the business. He brought a 40 foot aluminum ladder to every inspection and handled it himself until he was 68 years old. He never once dropped it or fell.

I can’t point to any single act or accomplishment of his that changed our profession, but I can say that for a long time, he was the standard by which a lot of home inspectors in MA are compared.

This is starting to sound like an obit, but it isn’t. Al’s got some of the semi-serious health issues associated with spending 76 years on this planet (2 of them in the 1950’s Marine Corps), and he suffers from dementia, but he is happy and hale. He still kisses me every time he sees me and refers to me as: ‘the second best home inspector in Massachusetts’. I introduce him as ‘185 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal.’Most of his brothers and his kids live within an hour of him and he has visitors about 4-5 days of every week.

My Dad is a (retired) two-fisted, truth-tellin’, pog-mo-thoin home inspector who honest-to-goodness-loved helping homebuyers. Anyone working as a home inspector today owes a little something to guys like my Dad and many, many others. Thanks for letting me brag a little.

We now return you to Les' thread, which I've hijacked at least three times by my count.

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Good thread in many ways.

I enjoy all the Yuenglings and keep it in the fridge as my standard beer. But I do like the micro brews, big micro brews like Sam Adams, New Belgium, Flying Dog, and Sweetwater. I thoroughly enjoyed the Cape Cod Beer when we visited. Draft and Growlers only with the Cape Cod beer and you can about get it only on the Cape. At the time Plymouth was as far out as they served.

In the last 4 years I had two close inspector friends retire or move to another field. I still talk with them but it's not the same since they are no longer "in it". Lot's of vacant foreclosed properties but lately some resales are back on the rise.

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Well, this isn’t exactly the proper forum to go on bragging about your father, but then… impropriety & me a long history, so I’ll indulge in a little sentimentality. Thanks for the kind words and the opening, Les.

In 1982, my father was a 47 year old civil engineer; an underpaid, upper middle manager in the Federal Dept. of Transportation. His secretary had just bought a 3 family investment property in Lynn, MA and told him how helpful her home inspection report was.

My Dad grew up fixing things with his own hands and had by that time he’d bought and fixed up two 100+ year old homes in which to house his wife and seven hungry children. He’d never heard of a home inspection before. She brought her report in to the office and showed it to him and he said: ‘You paid $100 for this?’

In August of 1983, he hung out a shingle and became a home inspector. I was 13 years old and paid almost no attention to his new interest.

He heard about ASHI and started going to local chapter meetings with Phil Monahon, Mel Chalfen, Tony Galeota, Bill Sutton, and Werner Carlson. He still refers to those men as the ‘long ball hitters’ and was always pleased if he was mentioned in the same breath as them.

These days, he isn’t, but professionally he was irascible, intransigent and incontrovertible at all times. He is very bright, has an unparalleled devotion to family, and I’ve never heard anyone accuse him of speaking a dishonest word. He would often laugh to me in the truck after a job and say: ‘I may be wrong, but I am never in doubt!’.

He never refused a fellow home inspector a favor and helped many get started in the business. He brought a 40 foot aluminum ladder to every inspection and handled it himself until he was 68 years old. He never once dropped it or fell.

I can’t point to any single act or accomplishment of his that changed our profession, but I can say that for a long time, he was the standard by which a lot of home inspectors in MA are compared.

This is starting to sound like an obit, but it isn’t. Al’s got some of the semi-serious health issues associated with spending 76 years on this planet (2 of them in the 1950’s Marine Corps), and he suffers from dementia, but he is happy and hale. He still kisses me every time he sees me and refers to me as: ‘the second best home inspector in Massachusetts’. I introduce him as ‘185 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal.’Most of his brothers and his kids live within an hour of him and he has visitors about 4-5 days of every week.

My Dad is a (retired) two-fisted, truth-tellin’, pog-mo-thoin home inspector who honest-to-goodness-loved helping homebuyers. Anyone working as a home inspector today owes a little something to guys like my Dad and many, many others. Thanks for letting me brag a little.

We now return you to Les' thread, which I've hijacked at least three times by my count.

Thanks Jim. Come to think of it, it ain't so far a drift. We can be stressed out by low ballin', soul sellin', bottom dwellin' inspectors that we have to work alongside just as easily as by pissed realtors. Honest to goodness inspectors that I knew of were as scarce as hen's teeth and horse's toes prior to coming here.

Yeah, we can use more folk and stories like that.

Marc

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Jimmy,

Thanks for the history of your Dad. I'm proud for you and jealous that he is still with you (and all of us).

I was my Dad's trainee while growing up on the farm in Montana. He taught me more than any school could ever think about offering.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss him or wish I could ask his opinion.

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Jimmy,

Thanks for the history of your Dad. I'm proud for you and jealous that he is still with you (and all of us).

I was my Dad's trainee while growing up on the farm in Montana. He taught me more than any school could ever think about offering.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss him or wish I could ask his opinion.

...me too!

Jimmy, none of this is "drift". It is stress relief.

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Thanks Jim. Come to think of it, it ain't so far a drift. We can be stressed out by low ballin', soul sellin', bottom dwellin' inspectors that we have to work alongside just as easily as by pissed realtors. Honest to goodness inspectors that I knew of were as scarce as hen's teeth and horse's toes prior to coming here.

Yeah, we can use more folk and stories like that.

Marc, I've always admired your intellect, but that made you downright likable.

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Thanks Jim. Come to think of it, it ain't so far a drift. We can be stressed out by low ballin', soul sellin', bottom dwellin' inspectors that we have to work alongside just as easily as by pissed realtors. Honest to goodness inspectors that I knew of were as scarce as hen's teeth and horse's toes prior to coming here.

Yeah, we can use more folk and stories like that.

Marc, I've always admired your intellect, but that made you downright likable.

Hey Marc--

Enjoy the compliment from Chad. From a guy as laconic as he is, that brief statement is damned near effusive.

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