The Omen: The day I decided to work in land real estate
This is a guest post by J.R. Smith, an agent at Southern Land ExchangeWhen I was 25 I got my “Real Estate” license. I was single. From day one after I received notification that I had passed the exam, I dreamed about quitting my regular job, working for the man, for a regular dependable paycheck, and going out into the Real Estate World and seeking my fortune. The operative word is “dreamed.” I just didn’t have the nerve to quit and do it. After I lucked up and sold a few five acre tracts, and saved up a grand total of five hundred American dollars though, I became a person with a dangerous attitude at work. A common phrase in my vocabulary at work became “Hey, I don’t need this.”
About that time something called the “oil embargo” was going on. Gas prices took a healthy jump. One Friday my boss explained that in order to make ends meet at work there would not be any more taking home company vehicles. As I was driving the work truck home for the last time, I decided that was the last straw. I was not better off financially than I was a year ago. A combination of a case of high testosterone and local southern hostility (commonly referred to as “Redneckedness”) must have over taken me. I must have put the pedal to the metal as I screamed out “Hey, I don’t need this. Monday I am going to tell that guy to TAKE THIS JOB AND SHOVE IT.” I was thinking, “I’ll sell my way to financial freedom in no time.” The next thing I remember, a cop was pointing at me as he crossed the grass median and turned on his lights as he pulled into traffic behind me.
“Do you know how fast you were going back there?” I replied, “Aahh, no I’m sorry, my speedometer must be broken.” (I must have thought he had never heard that before). A few minutes later as he walked back up to my window and handed me the speeding ticket he replied “If I were you Mr. Smith I would travel in the right lane with the rest of the normal flow of traffic until I got that speedometer fixed. You were doing 89 in a 55 mile per hour zone.” Well, I took that speeding ticket for an “Omen.”
As I pulled back up onto the super slab and headed home, I started to remember I would have to fix the brakes on my old truck and how much it would be costing me for gas to drive it back and forth to work from now on.
While the ticket was an omen that I should probably keep my day job, (I've had over 38 years of experience in surveying, subdivision design, and development), I'm so glad I took the plunge into real estate. I'm an avid outdoorsman and fisherman, particularly with light tackle in shallow water, so helping folks sell or buy recreational land brings two of my passions together. Plus, it slows me down a little.
About that time something called the “oil embargo” was going on. Gas prices took a healthy jump. One Friday my boss explained that in order to make ends meet at work there would not be any more taking home company vehicles. As I was driving the work truck home for the last time, I decided that was the last straw. I was not better off financially than I was a year ago. A combination of a case of high testosterone and local southern hostility (commonly referred to as “Redneckedness”) must have over taken me. I must have put the pedal to the metal as I screamed out “Hey, I don’t need this. Monday I am going to tell that guy to TAKE THIS JOB AND SHOVE IT.” I was thinking, “I’ll sell my way to financial freedom in no time.” The next thing I remember, a cop was pointing at me as he crossed the grass median and turned on his lights as he pulled into traffic behind me.
“Do you know how fast you were going back there?” I replied, “Aahh, no I’m sorry, my speedometer must be broken.” (I must have thought he had never heard that before). A few minutes later as he walked back up to my window and handed me the speeding ticket he replied “If I were you Mr. Smith I would travel in the right lane with the rest of the normal flow of traffic until I got that speedometer fixed. You were doing 89 in a 55 mile per hour zone.” Well, I took that speeding ticket for an “Omen.”
As I pulled back up onto the super slab and headed home, I started to remember I would have to fix the brakes on my old truck and how much it would be costing me for gas to drive it back and forth to work from now on.
While the ticket was an omen that I should probably keep my day job, (I've had over 38 years of experience in surveying, subdivision design, and development), I'm so glad I took the plunge into real estate. I'm an avid outdoorsman and fisherman, particularly with light tackle in shallow water, so helping folks sell or buy recreational land brings two of my passions together. Plus, it slows me down a little.
Labels: An Omen, Guest Post, land real estate, recreational property
posted by Southern Land Exchange @ 2:43 PM
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