Letters to the Editor: 06.26.97
Basic Respect
New York
June 17, 1997
Dear Mrs. Rattray:
I have visited Montauk nearly every summer since 1983. While I can't claim even the status of "summer person," since I'm only there two or three days at a time, Montauk is still very important to me. The times I've spent walking in the dunes and on the beach stand out in my mind as exceptionally beautiful, tranquil moments.
In return for the enjoyment the place gives me, I try to give back by picking up whatever litter I find on the beach or in the dunes. So it came as kind of a shock last Friday evening when I went to dispose of a mylar balloon and a soda can (the most common items of beach litter) in a dumpster in front of the Ocean End Apartments (not where I was staying), and was told by an older man whom I assume was the owner not to put trash into their dumpster. I explained I had just picked it up off the beach, and he said it was nothing to do with his place and asked if there wasn't a trash can on the beach. When I told him there was not, he said, "Well, you shouldn't have picked it up, then."
Now I'm no expert, but it seems to me that picking up litter is showing pretty basic respect for one's environment. And when we're talking about an environment as extraordinary as Montauk's oceanfront, respect and maintenance are essential. Everyone who uses it, especially those who profit from it, have a personal responsibility to care for it. It's just the most appalling ignorance to think otherwise.
It might be time for the local government to start making a bigger issue of litter on the beaches. Perhaps a "carry in-carry out" policy needs to be instituted, with signs telling beachgoers to take away anything they bring in. The beachfront motels should also be required to take an active part in cleaning up those parts of the beach they front on. Much as I despise the sight of overflowing trash cans on beaches, it's far better than trash itself on beaches, which is what you have now.
It's disappointing to find such selfishness in such a gorgeous place. If I owned property here, I'd probably be out there every day picking up trash. Hell, I'd lobby for banning mylar balloons on Long Island!
Is it possible that you who are fortunate enough to live there have lost sight of the beauty that surrounds you, and the desire to preserve it? Is it all just so much valuable real estate to you?
Whatever. It's not ruined Montauk for me. I'll be back - and picking up trash and putting it in any appropriate receptacle I can find. So sue me.
Yours truly,
EMILY MOREFIELD
Stupid Image
Amagansett
June 22, 1997
To The Editor:
Last week The Star published my brilliant and self-congratulatory letter documenting the tragic demise of relevance in journalism in peacetime America - locally and across the country. Anyone still in denial over the truth of my assertions need only hold aloft their newest issue of Time, upon the cover of which is rendered the head of an alien! With a huge, bold skull, big black eyes and, apparently, lipstick! "The Roswell Files," read the headline in large distressed type.
When I saw this stupid image I immediately filled my bidet with ice water and forced my head under with both hands, for over three minutes, until I began seeing the distant "white light" that Mormons riding taxis in New York for the first time claim to see. Only when I felt my essential love for life, and for my country, return and exceed my need for closure, did I release my head and gasp for precious air.
Disturbing as this episode was, I found it even more troubling to see, in the same issue of The Star, your newspaper's mean-spirited response to my commentary on photojournalism as practiced in East Hampton. Does the phrase "thousands of mind-numbing shots of gulls perched upon pilings" ring a bell? Well, apparently it rang your bell. For there, on the front page of the editorial section of this very June 19 issue was a huge, mind-numbing photograph of a bird on a piling! True, the bird was not a gull, but a cormorant - a voracious, totipalmate sea bird . . . or a greedy or rapacious person.
Nonetheless when I saw this monumental image of a gull-like "sea bird" front and center page, I picked up my treasured Nikon and smashed it into my face - just to channel the anger. While gently dabbing the bloodied areas with a clean, cotton cloth, I realized that, hey, maybe this wasn't a malicious response to my pointed observation after all! Maybe The Star simply has an editorial policy of not encouraging its readers to over-excite while in their hammocks. In the same section of the paper, for example, there appears a black and white photo of purple fennel and raspberries!
In light of this (however unlikely) possibility, I am enclosing two photographs for your consideration. You may use them, if you find them compatible with the paper's editorial content, at any time, no charge. One of the photos I call "Door to Room," the other, "Man With Hammer." I do not need them back.
On an encouraging note, I would like to publicly thank Jeff Dell for coming forward with the $25 for my dresser. That took character, sir, and I applaud you. I always used the upper left side drawer for my socks and the upper right for my underwear, just for convenience. But I'm sure you will find your own special uses and preferences; I trust it will serve you well.
LYLE GREENFIELD
What To Believe
East Hampton
June 23, 1997
Dear Editor,
The recent series in The Star on the state of the real estate market, together with the weekly rantings of some guy named George Stankevich in The Independent, should not go without comment, or be taken as gospel. As the saying goes, "The large print giveth and the small print taketh away."
The new wave of owner-brokers who have risen like the Phoenix from the ashes of the down market of just a few short years ago would be wise to remember those who have fallen before them. Does anyone remember Donald Clause . . . Jerry Lawton . . . Tom Gill?
Our current crop of "experts" are already well on their way to killing the current golden-egg-laying goose. Consider this season's rental market.
Sometime well before all the ill-fitting Christmas gifts had been returned, the press, and our esteemed local pundits, had declared this season's rental "the best ever," with no good houses left and prices beyond belief.
Almost immediately, two things happened:
First, most of those who had yet to rent stopped looking here. They are currently at the Cape, in New England, upstate, Europe, and elsewhere.
Second, almost everybody who owned a house in the Hamptons and believed this drivel listed their homes for rent for the summer. Some people added pools and tennis courts; some even built new homes, just to rent!
So, as demand dropped, supply increased. Even the guys who push the brooms on Wall Street know what happens next. "Plenty of great rentals left," trumpeted those same pundits well after school was out, in May.
And who is this guy Stankevich? Just what is a "trophy home"? Is it some place you bring your "trophy wife," your "honorable mention kids," and your booby-prize Range Rover?
I don't know what planet he inhabited before he hung his hat in the astronomic-megamillion-multitrophy-teardown land he lives in now, but I can figure, it had to be somewhere between the Magic Kingdom and Mr. Rogers's neighborhood. Maybe he lived with Robin Leach.
At any rate, the person in charge of layout at The Independent deserves a fire-safety award. If the hot air coming from Jerry's column ever gets too close to the horse manure that this guy Stankevich shovels weekly, we've got spontaneous combustion at every newsstand in town.
So what is a prospective buyer or seller of homes to believe?
Believe in people. Know your broker, where he comes from, and how he works. Ask a prospective broker what he/she was doing last year, three years ago, five years ago, 10 years ago. (Half of them were tending bar or playing country-club tennis when the market was bad.)
Choose your broker like you would any other professional - your doctor, dentist, lawyer, accountant - and not by the amount of signs their office has posted on Montauk Highway or the size of their ads in the local papers.
Please consider that any advice you receive from someone with a cocktail in one hand is probably not real good.
If you are a seller looking for information, don't just accept opinions as gospel. Property evaluations can and should be supported by fact, recent comparable sales, and honesty. The broker who tells you exactly what you want to hear, or agrees with you despite what the market indicates is rarely the best choice. Rather, experience, coupled with good communications and negotiation skills, will serve you better.
Buyers should realize that the best way to find the right home is to first find the right broker. Consider that when you call a real estate office to inquire about a sign or an ad, you are subjecting yourself to the luck of the draw. The person who answers your call may have just started yesterday. Or they may have little knowledge or interest in the price range you are looking in. Most offices have a policy whereby you become the sole property of the first person you speak to on the phone. Go figure!
And please remember that despite what they guy next to you at the beach says, there are some very competent, professional brokers, lawyers, builders, and bankers here in town. The hard part is finding them.
Yours truly,
TOM MacNIVEN
Licensed Broker
Exaggeration, Stupidity
East Hampton
June 17, 1997
To the Editor:
After 15 years in the real estate business, I'm amazed by what I read in the press. The Star's real estate series and the drivel that spews from George Stankevich's Independent column gives one the impression that real estate is not only the life blood of our community but of the entire metropolitan area. Almost all the facts and figures quoted in these stories are grossly misleading. While exaggeration and stupidity often fuel market flames, ours can do without both ingredients.
To understand the East Hampton market one should be aware that barely 1,000 properties out of a 4,000 property inventory sell in any one year. The average sale is approximately $320,000. Two thirds of the sales are under $200,000. Total commissions on these sales is less than $20 million, which gets split among 300 brokers and salespeople. (Obviously no one's getting very rich.) A decent size company in Manhattan earns more commissions than the entire Town of East Hampton.
So, if only one in four properties sells every year, how does the community respond? It accepts George Stankevich's observation that everyone should have an "exclusive broker." For purchasers this makes good sense, but for sellers this is unadulterated stupidity. Most brokers have excellent key skills (unlocking doors) and alarm proficiency (turning on and off).
The primary reason to give someone an "exclusive" to sell your house is because they are friends of yours. (Land and commercial properties are another story, as are unique and unusual houses.) Otherwise giving an exclusive can extend the selling life of your home by six to 18 months. How can this possibly be?
First, a large real estate office advertises about 25 properties a month in the local press, The New York Times, and Homes and Land. If it has 50 exclusives, your house gets in once every two months maybe. If you know the owners, possibly once a month. Second, if yours is not a million-dollar house, every other house in your price range that is not exclusive will be shown before yours by the remaining 90 percent of the brokerage community that doesn't want half a commission on the sale. (If the average broker sells three properties a year he would be better off on welfare than to sell "co-brokes.") Third, "exclusivity" really means minimum exposure to the smallest possible number of people (a serious restraint of trade). Advertising doesn't sell houses, brokers do. At least 75 percent of the market is referral-based and not advertisement-generated.
When one drives around East Hampton and sees a plethora of new "exclusive" signs, you know that the market has gotten silly, stupid, has meandered off the real market path into fantasy land. The last time this happened we fell on our faces. The pain was excruciating, and we all suffered. Does anyone remember?
A reasonable approach by owners, brokers, and sellers to the real-estate market is key. Controlling market distortion, misinformation, and idiot-box exclusivity are critical components. The industry needs only to rely on its expertise to insure its future. Exclusivity shouldn't be an out-of-body experience.
NEIL HAUSIG
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