You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Greenwich buyers tend to want a lot for their money and who can blame them? Two million dollars is, in most parts of the world, a big chunk of change and you’d think it should buy you at least a small mansion, instead of the average house in town. But it doesn’t, not in Greenwich. If you want 9’ ceilings, marble baths and granite kitchen counters, you’re going to have to pay more, often much more. Especially if you insist on high ceilings because houses just weren’t built that way until a few years ago and, if you’re buying new, you’re going to have to pay for inflated land prices. My advice? Adjust.

Speaking of Land

Growing up in the 60’s, most of my contemporaries lived in pre-war houses, which meant plaster walls, solid wood doors and the like. Then a fellow named Murphy came to town and started building “Murphy Houses” – sheetrock, hollow doors, flimsy quality. We despised them, even as we became friends with the kids who lived in them. But they sold for $27,500 (a plywood sign advertising that fact made a midnight conversion into a bed for my VW Microbus), cheap even then. Today they are still standing, remarkably, and sell for $1.3-1.8 million. It’s not that the houses have improved; they have not, but the price of a Riverside quarter-acre has soared. You should have bought some.

The Tax Man Cometh

I recently represented the estate of a woman whose property was assessed at $1,500,000. Assuming the normal ratio for selling price to assessed value, the house should have theoretically sold for $2.3 million. It did not and, alas went unsold for $1.475. I don’t know whether the late owner refused the assessor access to her home or whether the assessor just blew it but this house was never worth anything close to what the town taxed it for. My point: if you have an elderly relative who is perhaps incapable of dealing with our bureaucracy, keep an eye on her property tax, among other things. This woman was over-taxed for years, and no one noticed.

And the Taxpayer Fleeth

Two of my older friends have just moved their residency to Florida, permanently. Not because they tired of Greenwich, but to avoid our newly re-imposed estate tax. So there are two estates that Connecticut will not get to tax, and two incomes that will also avoid the Commissioner of Revenue Services.

Lawns

This is probably not a logical time of year to discuss lawn maintenance but I saw a truck the other day on the Post Road from an outfit called Natural Lawns and I was curious enough to check them out on the web (nl-amer.com). The company claims its program reduces the use of pesticides 80% and that its fertilizers are “all natural”, whatever that means. It seems to me that nitrogen is nitrogen regardless of whether it’s derived from petrochemicals or crushed lima beans, but in view of the fact that everything we put on our lawns ends up in Long Island Sound, anything we can do to reduce that flow might be a good thing. Certainly, reducing pesticides can’t hurt. They also sell an ice melter, tick controller and mole repellant (three distinct products, I assume). The closest service provider is in New Canaan @ (203) 348-7665 but for you do it yourselfers (if anyone in Greenwich still maintains his own lawn) the web site offers direct shipment of Natural Lawn products. Again, I have not really investigated this company or the merits of its products but the concept appeals to this L.I.S. neighbor.

“We apologize, but this recipe is back in our kitchen for testing.”

Message found on the web when I clicked on “New York State Blue Ribbon Apple Pie Recipe”. Makes you wonder what exactly what went wrong and how many Thanksgiving day deserts were ruined, eh?

Cheap Furniture

I recently noticed a Bob’s Discount Furniture truck making a delivery in Riverside, which surprised me. You know Bob – that cheesy guy who is all over the cable pitching his sawdust and glue furniture. Given the price of housing in Riverside, I was as surprised to see Bob and his cheap goods as I would have been to spot a tiger on someone’s front yard but I suppose that, after scraping up the dough to buy in that part of town, the homeowners might be living on folding camp furniture and sleeping on straw bedding. In which case, Bob’s stuff is a (modest) step up.