Well, people.  I have decided in concert with my faithful assistant to avoid future closings.  I am 1700 in the hole from title searches that will never close, deals that fell through, and documents copied for no reason (now).  And I really prefer practicing law, so that is that.

But I have great news. My little town has a bar association, and though there are like only 8 lawyers in my town, and half of them are half retired, we get a pretty good turn out at the bar meetings from judges and lawyers from the next main town.  We really get a turnout when the bar assn. picks up the tab for judges at the holidays. 

Anyway, I sat with three locals and actually was complimented on my legal expertise, particularly, (and get this people, for I am shocked), in regard to my competence as a litigator.  So there you have it.  A sign.  And a possible referral, which is always nice.

Not everyone has as their claim to fame a singular understanding of statutory ways of necessity.  This is the case from which my present notoriety stems, and so, my assessment that I had indeed ticked off everyone in my little town, turns out to be more a combination of respect, and the fact that I actually have ticked off a few people.  Ah, c'est la guerre.  I am ready to take on a new challenge again.

So, Terri is back practicing 'real' law, and the title company is waning.  But hey.  I am also making money, which, as I recall, is the reason one starts a business.

So thanks guys for the nice bar dinner, and the encouragement. Glad I went to the bar dinner tonight.  And give that guy who needs an easement a card.  Can he pay a retainer?

I have a title company, and I am an attorney.  I used to think title work, being transactional, and being consensual, for the most part, would be a lower stress type of practice.  It seems simple enough--one party wants to buy, and another wants to sell.  How incredibly disappointing to find the real truth.  The title company is viewed as the bottom feeder of the real estate world, paid exhorbitantly merely to push papers around, and expected to be the nanny and mediator of every transaction. 

So, I have decided to take some liberties with music to vent my soul in the limited arena of the business world.  Your indulgence is appreciated.

How many HUDs must my company fax

Before we can say 'final HUD?'

Yes, and how many faxes must we send to the bank

to beg them to wire us the funds?

How many times will the surveyor call

And tell us, "The survey is done?"

The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind.

The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Soooo.I have come to some startling conclusions. 

First, I know for a fact that there is a genie by every fax machine in companies employing more than five people.  Perhaps they hire a small boy for this purpose.  The function of such a worker is to immediately grab whatever comes over the fax machine, and shred it.  This must be true, because hours, or sometimes even days after faxes are sent to these organizations, they send out distress calls, some of which are even accusatory and hostile, demanding that faxes be sent again, containing the information contained in the very first fax.  Thus, the cycle begins again.  Perhaps this could be reduced somehow to a board game and sold to Parker Brothers.  If you send enough faxes to overwhelm the genie and actually get a message to the intended recipient, you get points.  Think they would object to my asking for a fee?

Second, there are lots of people in the world who will do little or nothing to advance their own interests.  I give you a fairly typical closing, done on a mail away basis, for the convenience of the customer, of course.  Detailed and precise instructions are included for the hapless seller or buyer, whose understandably limited experience in these matters must gently but firmly be taken into account.  Find a notary.  Sign by the X.  Return the documents using my FedEx account.  Call me if you have any questions at all.  These seem straightforward enough to me, but then I know I have my blind spots.

Days pass.  No return envelope appears. I call the real estate agent and tell them no envelope.  Now, since I have less than five people in my office, there is no genie, and my success rate at finding the lost has thus far, over the course of 23 years of practice, been excellent.  In other words, I get my faxes and usually the FedEx guy hands the envelope directly to me.  The real estate agent calls. The bank calls, and I go to the back room, and call the seller (whose phone has often enough been disconnected).  I consider reading tea leaves, but generally consider this to be the problem of the seller's real estate agent, who is making enough to go to Bimini and back five times.  But I am remiss.  The truth is that I am responsible. Who knew? I am instructed to call and call again.  Send the papers again.  Recalculate and change the date.  Again, and again.  Resend the papers.   I did not realize the responsibility that comes with this position.  I need to keep an investigator on staff to find people who, just 30 days ago, waited anxiously for someone to buy their property.  And I need a bulk discount on paper and toner.

I shall add more as fancy permits.