In which my other voicemail is from Keith - the letter he mailed to the former tenant has been returned to him

Apparently - and I have not seen it yet - undeliverable.

This woman.

She has sent nasty emails to Keith about her deposit yet she gave him an invalid address?

In which the very sincere, very nice neighbor who also happens to be a little bit long winded leaves a long detailed voicemail for Primo - on my phone

And Primo and I cannot figure out who it is until after we have played the message three times.

Just as he is sighing and saying, "It's Nice Sincere Neighbor," the phone rings.

It is Nice Sincere Neighbor.

Calling about I don't know what.

But Primo answers my phone just to get it over with.

They are still talking. It's been about six minutes and all I have heard on this side is answers to apparent questions about the national convention - an event over which Primo has absolutely no influence.

In which I am resolved never ever ever to get into the landlord business

OK. Where was I?

Last week, the former tenant (FT) wrote Keith that she had not gotten her deposit back and if he didn't send it, she was going to small claims court.

I told Keith I would help him answer. I asked him to bring the receipt for the certified letter and a copy of the money order he had sent.

He had a receipt for the money order but had not made a photocopy.

He had not sent the letter certified mail.

Let me repeat that because I know your stomach is sinking at this news.

He. Did. Not. Use. Certified. Mail.

He came over clutching a handful of papers.

He is really good about keeping all documentation. But he didn't do it right! I told him and told him to send the letter certified mail so he would have proof!

"But you get all WAHWAHWAH! and I get all confused when you talk!" he said. "I didn't know what certified mail meant."

Oh dear. I do get all WAHWAHWAH! I am very emphatic when I speak and I tell people what to do, especially when I am losing my patience.

But - no proof.

He did, however, have a receipt for mailing a letter on May 20 to the zip code specified in her forwarding address.

We had three pieces of data:

1. A receipt from the post office that a letter had been mailed on May 20 to her zip code
2. A receipt from the bank for a money order for $500, the amount she is getting back from her $1,250 deposit
3. A copy of the information she had given him with her forwarding address

We emailed,

Dear Ms FT,

On May 20, I sent a letter and a money order from BMO Harris Bank (receipt dated May 20 attached) to you at  

FT/Former tenant's friend who lives at this address

Address

City, State, Zip

This is the forwarding address you left with me (copy of note with address attached).

I have also attached a receipt from the post office for the postage for the letter to you. Note that it is dated May 20, as well.

Have you had a chance to check with [your friend] to see if any mail has arrived for you? Would you please ask her if the letter has arrived and let me know? I am very concerned that something may have happened to the portion of the deposit that is due to you. 

Sincerely,

Keith 

We wanted to be snarky and nasty but snarky and nasty might not play well in small claims court. If we would have to go to court, my strategy was going to be keeping Keith calm while FT blew another gasket like she did when she called 911 because we were doing her checkout walkthrough. 

She emailed back,

Keith, 

I will ask, but hope you send a description with the details of how you end up with $500 from $1250 based on contract and checklist of walk thru of condition of departure the only 2 complains you should really charge me is for the Burners not clean $20.00 and the additional general cleaning which are $30.00, Don't forget the deposit given to you was $2000, $750 for rent, $750 deposit and $500 pet.(see pictures) 

Umm. FT. That $750 for rent? That does not get returned.

I don't know what pictures she is talking about. 

The next day, Keith went to the bank to see if the money order had been cashed. It had not. The guy at the bank told Keith not to worry - that he had done everything right and there was nothing for him to do right now. 

I really hoped it had, as it appears that state law restricts a tenant's right to sue about the deposit if she cashes a check for a portion of it.

I know, I know. I know there are bad landlords.

But man there are also bad tenants. Now I understand why no landlord ever raised my rent. I was a really good tenant! And, except for Michelle McMichael in Austin, who was a horrible, horrible landlady who would stop in my duplex just to get a drink of water on her way home from aerobics, I have always had great landlords. 

(Well, the landlord in Miami who did not respond very quickly to my panicked phone calls to him that the roof was leaking and the  plaster ceiling was going to fall in soon - AND IT DID - was not the best, either, but he was just lazy, not a jerk. DO NOT RENT FROM MICHELLE MCMICHAEL IN AUSTIN.)

Keith is a super nice guy. He is a good landlord. He does not deserve to be berated by mean people.

(And I told him not to rent to someone who had been evicted and had filed for bankruptcy! I told him!)

She wrote back on Friday,

Keith, 

Nothing has been received, and based on your pictures that only proves you took $500 out of a bank account and bought a money order for same amount, and you send it to somewhere at [my zip code]. It does NOT SPECIFY it was for and only Former Tenant was able to cash..  I don't know how you going to but you need to track the letter and find out if it got cashed. If by June 10th, 2016 I will proceed with law proceeding. 

When I overlook her meanness and the typos, I think, That woman would make an excellent lawyer.

But it's not Keith's responsibility to track the letter. It's her responsibility to check her mail.

Still, neither of us slept well Friday night. 

I was messaging with a friend whose parents own seven rental properties. She said her dad, who is 93 years old and in hospice for cancer, still has - to this day - nightmares about tenants from years ago.

I will never be a landlord. Never.

In which a labor organization shows that it does not really support Labor

Primo: This labor organization is having candidate meetings next Wednesday.

Me: So?

Primo: This is where they decide if they are going to endorse you.

Me: Oh.

Primo: So it's important that I go.

Me: Why does an endorsement matter so much?

Primo: By endorse, I mean, "Tell their members to vote for certain candidates."

Me: Ah. Yes. Then you need to go.

Primo: They have two sessions. One from 9:00 to 11:00 and the other from 3:00 to 5:00.

Me: That's it?

Primo: Yep.

Me: So --- if you actually have a job - especially a labor or union kind of job - the kind where you get paid by the hour for journeyman work or something like that --

Primo: Uh huh.

Me: You either can't go or it costs you money to go.

Primo: Exactly.

Me: So they really don't care if working people run for office, do they?

Primo: Doesn't look like it.

In which we remember yet another pain in the neck about running for public office and why Politics Is For Rich People Who Have People

Primo has spent hours completing the financial disclosure forms.

I agree with the idea - we should be able to see how candidates and politicians are getting their money - but when it is Us The Candidate completing the forms, I get a little pissy because even though I have an MBA from a top 20 program and I got the highest scores in the class in finance and I worked at the IRS for three months as a temp job, I find these forms incomprehensible and a royal pain in the neck.

As in, you cannot just say that you have $X in your company's 401K program. You have to detail the amount in each fund.

Between us, Primo and I have three company 401Ks and we each have our Roth IRA. Within each program, we have our money split in about six funds. (The first thing I learned in finance was Diversify, Diversify, Diversify.)

If we were rich, we would have People to do this stuff for us. People who would pull each statement and figure out the amount by fund and add up any duplicate funds across programs to see if the amounts meet the reporting threshold.

We would have People to spend hours and hours doing this.

But we are not rich. We do not have People.

This, my friends, is another reason why ordinary folks do not run for office.

Fear for our country.

In which a friend of ours proposes another wine fundraiser for Primo and I laugh, because having a fundraiser at our house is a great way to convert a lot of wine that is worth a decent amount of money into almost no cash

In which I convince Primo that talking about his nephew and about his sister and their educational challenges would actually help him

Primo's big issue for this campaign - the thing that motivated him to run - is public education. There is stuff going on here and I suspect everywhere in the US about schools.

I grew up on military bases, attending, for the most part, the Department of Defense schools, which are among the best schools in the - hmm - I can't say US, because many of the schools are outside of the US - the best schools for American students in the world. Test scores for DoD schools are always pretty high. Education just isn't an issue on military bases and for military dependents.

Primo also went to good schools, but not because he went to DoD schools. He went to good schools because his parents knew how to use the system to their advantage.

I have no problem with their doing that. They bought a house in a neighborhood in a better school district and when that wasn't enough, sued the district to get Primo in special classes. (Primo graduated from high school when he was 15.)

Again - I have no problem with parents advocating for their children.

I do have a problem with people who don't think that parents who can't afford to buy a house in a good district or don't know how to sue shouldn't have options.

Just because you are stuck living in a crummy school district, you shouldn't have no choices.

Although Primo and I agree that children have the right to a good education, we disagree on some of the mechanics of all this. Primo thinks we should improve the public schools, which of course we should, but I maintain that in the meantime, the true function of public education is that every child be educated, period.

But I don't want to get into all that.

So his big issue is education and who gets to go to good schools and who doesn't.

Primo wants to talk about the Big Ideas and the Theories and the To-Be state.

We were talking about Ted'sSon, who is mentally disabled and has required special education that has come about because Ted and his wife sued the district.

"The district was not equipped to handle Ted'sSon," Primo says. "That's not right."

"Nope," I said. "Why don't you mention that when you are talking to people?"

"Because it's too personal!" he said. "I can't talk about that kind of thing!"

"Of course you can," I answered.

"Nobody wants to hear that kind of thing," he said.

"Yes, they do!" I said. "What nobody wants to hear about is dry policy. Nobody wants to hear about abstract theory. They don't care about your Big Ideas. They want to know that you care about their kids and what happens to them. They want to know why you would even care about education - we don't have kids, so you can't talk about that. People need to know that you understand their struggles and want to help them. They don't care that you care about this stuff in the abstract."

He thought for a minute. Shook his head.

"Trust me. I am in marketing. This is what I do all day at work - try to figure out how to get people to accept change and new ideas. If you can't connect personally to someone, you are not going to get anything done."

He frowned slightly.

I continued. "Without thinking of any of the other things about them, think about how it felt when you met Bill Clinton and then met Obama right after him. Bill looked you in the eye and paid attention to you. He made you feel like you mattered, even though we all know that's just his thing."

"Obama was looking over your shoulder for someone more important."

"People want to feel like they matter. And if you share something personal about yourself that relates to the struggles they face, that is way more important that explaining a policy to them."

He nodded. He smiled. He got it. He got it.

"You're good at this!" he said.

"I know," I said.

In which Primo gets signatures and I do nothing over Memorial Day weekend and it is grand

We did run into an acquaintance of Primo's who is currently a legislator. I had a conversation with him that left me really surprised.

As in, legislators all think they are smart. Really smart.

I know.

I KNOW!

I think the rest of the civilized world looks at politicians and thinks, "You would not last two seconds in the private sector" and is sure that after each election a politician wins, he throws himself to the ground to thank God because if he were not in elected office, he would starve to death because WHO WOULD EVER HIRE HIM? but apparently, legislators think quite highly of themselves.

The conversation went something like this, although this is a highly-distilled version:

Me: I am a big fan of the citizen-legislator.

Primo's acquaintance - let's call him Bob - Bob went straight from college to law school and then from law school to running for and winning public office: Well....

Me: Otherwise, you get people who have never worked in the private sector and who think taxing soda at a different rate than other items in the grocery store is a great idea.

Bob: What do you mean?

Me: Because anyone who has ever been involved with a computer system would say, "But if we tax different foods at different rates, then the systems have to be completely re-written, which is very expensive and time consuming."

Bob: I suppose I can see what you mean.

Me: Plus when you have someone who has worked in the private sector, you have someone who has an understanding of the fact that just because your expenses go up, you can't necessarily raise your prices.

Bob: Hmmmm. But what about James Madison? And some of the other founding fathers? They were pure politicians. They made a career of politics.

Me: Well, you may have a point there.

[But I was really thinking, "Really? REALLY? You are comparing yourself to James Madison? I. Don't. Think. So. And then I looked Madison up when I came home and discovered that sure, he might have started in politics very young, but he ran a huge plantation, which requires some decent private-sector skills. And Madison really was smart. That is not a quality I discern in most politicians these days.]

Bob: But yeah - one of the problems is that all the people at the capitol think they are experts on everything.

Me: What?

Bob: Yeah - they think they really know what they are talking about.

Me: WHAT?

Bob: So it can be hard to convince them of anything.

Me: I. See.

[And that's when I had the realization that they all think they are smart. They compare themselves to James Madison. They think they are experts. Lord. Have. Mercy.]

Bob: How's Primo's campaign going?

Me: I try to stay out of it.

Bob: What?

Me: It's his thing, not mine.

Bob: But... but...

Me: I did doors with him on the first campaign. I recruited and managed his volunteers. I put together yard signs. I wrote thank you notes. I entered data into the party database. I am done.

Bob: But why?

Me: It's not my thing.

Bob: On our first date, I took my girlfriend to do doors.

Me: And?

Bob: She's still my girlfriend.

Me: Yeah. Primo was not a politician when I married him.

Bob: But you don't want to campaign with him?

Me: No.

[What I should have said was, "Do you go to work with your girlfriend? Why not?"]

In which Primo and I talk about whether you ask friends who do not live in your district for money and we decide no, even if the friend has said that of course he would donate to the campaign he has given to candidates he likes a lot less than Primo

Because we are so lucky to have so many wonderfully generous friends, a lot of the costs of Primo's first campaign four years ago were covered. It made Primo sick to his stomach to ask friends for money - people, this is the absolute worst part of running for office, worse even than hiding your affairs and your sexts and whatever.

I joke. Primo is not having an affair. He can have an affair instead of running for office - indeed, I have suggested to him that he might consider that approach - but he cannot have an affair AND run for office.

You have to choose.

Anyhow. Asking people for money is really hard and that's why rich people run this country, not so much because they pay for their own campaigns, although that's part of it, but because they have a lot of friends who are as rich as they are and will give them money.

For his campaign for Congress two years ago, he asked nobody for money. He was a candidate as a favor to the party. There was no chance for him to win. He was not going to waste any goodwill begging for that one.

Now we are here, at a campaign for the state house that he actually could maybe win in this bizarre election year with its two "Which one do I detest less?" candidates and everything is up for grabs.

We saw these friends - let's call them Prakash and Kavitha - a month ago. They are college friends - Primo and Prakash were in the same dorm and have known each other since college; I met Prakash at our reunion last fall and found him delightful and found his wife (with whom he had an arranged marriage, which is not such a bad idea when you think about how important having similar values and backgrounds is for a successful marriage - it has clearly worked for them) to be absolutely charming.

Primo had called Prakash for his first campaign and Prakash wrote a check immediately. We were stunned by his generosity - he lives nowhere near us and would not be affected by Primo's winning.

Then for the Congressional campaign, Primo didn't ask anyone.

When we saw Prakash and Kavitha last month, Primo had not decided to run. He was actually leaning toward not running, which, as you know, made me very happy.

We talked about the first campaign and thanked P&K again for their contribution, which was when Prakash said that he has given money to candidates he liked far less than Primo and Primo should of course ask him.

FF to now. Primo has decided to run again. I am not thrilled, but I keep repeating to myself the refrain that soothes me:

I would rather have an unemployed Primo than an employed Primo + Sly + Doris.

Primo: Should I ask Prakash for a campaign contribution?

Me: NO!

Primo: But he said...

Me: I know. But - they're our friends.

Primo: I know.

Me: It just doesn't seem right.

Primo: I know. You're right. It's just that he said - but it seems so wrong to ask our friends for money.

Me: He sees what you post on facebook. You have a contribution link. If he wants to, he can.

Primo: Yeah. But it would be crass to ask him. OK.

I don't think we are in the right business.

In which it is the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend and when I tell Primo I am bored, he asks if I want to collect signatures for his nominating petition, and I laugh because there is no boredom boring enough to make me want to go door to door with a clipboard talking about politics with strangers

Instead, I will just stay home and be bored.

And cook.

1. I already tried making calzones today. I am/was working from home and made the filling and the dough last night. Here is what I have learned:

• I love the Enchanted Broccoli Forest vibe, but pesto+ricotta is boring
• Calzones need hot, salty fat, i.e., pepperoni
• Calzones also need not to be overstuffed. Can you tell in which order I made these? Yes - top right to top left. 

2. I have leftover pesto+ricotta. (I have been trying to use inventory in the freezer and I have a ton of pesto from the Great Basil Harvest of 2014.) I also have a friend who is going through chemo. He and his wife were in the Peace Corps with me and live in the capital city. Primo has to drop off his nominating signatures by June 1, so is planning to drive there next week. I will make a new batch of better-looking calzones and send them with him for Joe and Joyce. Primo is going to look in the freezer for some sausage to add to the filling.

3. I am also going to bake some orange-poppyseed bread from my mom's recipe to send with him.

4. And I am going to make a pie from the last bit of pears from our tree. I have become a champion pear pie maker. I use the apple pie recipe from Bon Appetit. And lard. I use lard in my crust. I will not send the entire pie to Joe and Joyce, though. They get the entire poppyseed bread and a few slices of pie.

5. In addition to cooking and being bored, I am going to work out in the basement and I am going to read.

6. And sleep. Late.

7. I am not going to collect signatures.

8. (Primo already has over 200, so he is probably safe.)

In which Keith's former tenant threatens to go to small claims court

She emailed him last night:

Keith this is a courtesy email, just wondering what happen, it's the 26th of May,2016. And your 21 days have expired. I didn't receive anything from you... 
If I don't hear anything from you by May 31st, 2016. My only option is to go to Small Claims Court. 

(Tenant)  

He mailed her a letter and a check for $500 last week. Sent it registered mail. She is not getting any of her security deposit back, but is getting her pet deposit back.

If she doesn't have it by now, either the post office messed up (highly unlikely - our post office is really good in this country), or she gave Keith a bad address.

In which I discover that one of the advantages of Primo being gone all evening collecting nominating signatures is that I can work in peace getting rid of old stuff like some of the food we moved from Primo's apartment to the house eight years ago

This stuff was already old when we moved. I don't think we are in danger of starvation, so it is safe to toss ten-year-old pickled eggplant.

In which the dilemma about Primo going to his aunt's funeral may be resolved

Primo: My aunt is going to die.

Me: We are all going to die.

Primo: I mean soon. She is in hospice. I just spoke to my cousin.

Me: That is sad.

Primo: She got the DVD I sent* and was able to watch it.

Me: Good.

Primo: But I told my cousin that I am running for office. I think that will set the stage for my not being able to attend the funeral.

Me: I think that's fine.





* With the photos Primo displayed at Doris' funeral. There were many of Doris as a young woman before Sly got to her - she was drop-dead gorgeous and she looked happy.

In which the devil must be looking for his sweater because Primo is asking our back yard neighbor, a retired maintenance guy who had refused to sign Primo's nominating petition a few years ago but signed yesterday for this campaign, for help with the lawnmower

Primo: The lawnmower isn't working properly!

Me: Not my problem. I'm working.

Primo: But it's not working.

Me: Shhhh! Leave me alone!

Ten minutes later

Primo: Guess what? Bill was outside so I asked him what he thought. It was just last year that he repaired it for us, right?

Me: I think so. He was so nice.*

Primo: So I told him I would take it over once I was done cutting the lawn.**

Me: OK.

Primo: But then he said that he thought it might just need a new air filter. He happened to have one and gave it to me.

Me: Good!

Primo: It didn't work. While I was replacing the filter, he was googling. He came back out and said it looks like it just might need a carburetor adjustment. I said I would take the mower over there and he said he would come over here!

Me: He is so nice.

And then Bill came over, repaired the problem, played with our cat, and left.

Who was that masked man? I wanted to thank him.


* Bill asked me last year if we would let him repair the mower because it was too noisy and it was driving him crazy. When we bought our house, we closed five weeks before we could move in. Bill came over and cut our grass and moved all the trash cans the previous owner had left on the curb to the garage.

** Which is not the worst thing in the world when someone is willing to repair your gas-powered devices for free, but he is our exact backyard neighbor. We live in the middle of the block. And there is a big fence between us. It is the maximum walking possible.

In which Primo lets himself be pulled into a long conversation with a very kind and sincere but long-winded neighbor

Primo [on phone]: [ring ring]

Me: I know you're not calling me because you messaged that you would be home at six so we could get to the play on time and it is now 6:11.

Primo: Something bad happened!

Me: What?!

Primo: It was 5:52 and I was walking past Roberto's house and I thought, "I have the perfect excuse to get the signature and get out!"

Me: Oh no! You didn't stop!

Primo: But I did - and he STILL kept me! He can talk!

Me: Like what? About what?

Primo: He asked, "Who's your campaign manager? You have to pick one! You need to run it by me!"

Me: Oh gosh.

Primo: He said, "We need to come up with a strategy to win this district!"

Me: Yeah. He talked about that last time. That's all he wanted to talk about last time. We needed someone to deliver yard signs but he wanted to re-do the strategy one week before the election.

Primo: Then he asked, "Do you know people to talk to about campaign managers?" I told him he had met B at that campaign event at our house and he said, "I met B and you need someone with more skills than that!"

Me: We are not hiring a campaign manager! What we need is someone to collect nominating signatures.

Primo: I think I could get him to do that, but I would have to spend an afternoon listening to him. He is a really nice guy---

Me: But he is not focused!

Primo: I told him we are not hiring a campaign manager this time - that we hired one last time and it was a disaster, plus we don't have the money this time because I am not working. And I promised you that we would not spend money.

Me: Good.

Primo: I thought if I told him you and I were going to the theatre that he would just sign, but he said, "Come in! Come in! Let's talk!"

Me: You didn't go into the house, did you? Because that would not have been a good idea for getting out of there quickly.

Primo: Yes. I did.

Me: Ouch. Big mistake.

Primo: I know. He's so excited about the theory.

Me: But right now, you just need someone to circulate nominating petitions. Bless his heart.

Primo: I know. Bless his heart.