Condomania

I live in a condo. A condo that is undergoing hall renovations. Including new carpeting. John and I initially talked about redoing the plantings but he then pointed out that there’s not much planting going on in January. Back to the carpeting. I bitched to someone in the building who came back with, “If you don’t like it, you should run for the board.'‘ I think you need three qualifications to serve successfully as a member of a condo board: 1) expertise in the field like being a real estate lawyer, 2) a job working in real estate development or property management and 3) patience. I have none of the above qualities.

Imagine sitting on a board on a random Tuesday night listening to people complain about crown molding. I cannot. Years ago, when my wife and I owned a house, we had to go to the town board to get permission to sink a hot tub into our outdoor deck. Three old guys were sitting on a stage asking questions about deck size. I however did enjoy bragging about my big deck. Being a board member is a job steeped in minutia. I often think you’re in the right field if you can put up with the relevant minutia. In advertising and in comic development, John and I can spend an hour arguing about a piece of dialogue or about a punctuation mark. I love it. But talking about property lines? Not so much.

The other thing I don’t love is running for a position. Back in 1971, I was a freshman entering Washington University in St. Louis. Fresh from the VietNam protests, I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring and run for dorm president. I was from New York, had shoulder-length hair and wore an African dashiki. I approached my fellow dorm residents with a clever line like, “Vote for me,” and when they tallied up the votes, I had received only one, from the guy who became my lifelong bestie. I looked as comfortable as Al did introducing himself.

This is the first two parts of a four-part series. Tune in next week to see how Al does.

Have a great weekend and we’ll be back with more condo fun,

Andy and John