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The 11.6 metre (38 foot) young adult humpback, which appeared to have been dead for several days, washed up at Newport beach's ocean baths overnight as rough seas lashed parts of Australia's east coast. Ocean baths are ... Newport beach, which is north ... Dead whale found in Australian ocean pool
Having your very own office OPEN TO THE WORLD 24/7 is NOT just a bunch of hype. Don't think for one minute that people , all over the world, are not shopping the internet at all hours of the day and night. YES, they are even shopping for their Real Estate needs - DAY and NIGHT. Not to mention that there are parts of the world where the sun is up while it's down in your town. If you are not OPEN around the clock for business in the internet arena YOU won't get any of those customers.
The most money I ever made DIRECTLY from the internet is $ 92,000. It only happened because I was OPEN for business in the weeee hours of the morning and I was available for anyone in the world with internet to find me.
Once upon a time, there was a man, Mr. Randy Randall, working off the coast of Australia on an oil rig. As a major means of communication, the oil company provided internet services and a computer for the workers so that they may keep in contact with their Famil y and friends in their off hours. These men ore often out at sea for weeks... even months. During Mr. Randall's time off he was using the computer to help solve a problem.
His problem was that his mother desperately needed to get on Medicaid but before she could qualify for that assistance, she needed to rid herself of all her assets. Randy was trapped in the ocean waters miles from civilization and to make matters worse his aging mother, in all her dementia, had given his "Heroin addicted" brother Power of Attorney over her last remaining asset... her Homestead.
Mr. Randall found me on the internet and emailed me about his dilemma. He explained that his Drug Addicted Brother, Virgil, was well aware that the property needed to be sold. In fact, Virgil was trying to sell the property in his own little messed up way but couldn't seem to get the job done. The mother was in terrible shape and the convalescent home where she resided was threatening to put her bed out on the street any day now.
Mr. Randall was in complete agony over his mother's situation. He explained to me that he had done everything he knew to do in order to help his poor mother. He had spent everything he had in an effort to make sure that his dear mother had decent care and that she would rest comfortably until her time came. However, Virgil had found his way to the money and had used it to buy more drugs. Working on the rig was the only way he knew to make money. The convalescent home was costing him $ 3,500 per month and no other job he was skilled at could pay him enough to cover her expenses and his own.
I ask Mr. Randall what his goals were and what would be the perfect solution. This is what he told me:
I want my mother to be comfortable. I want her in a decent place. I have tried but I have not done well by her and I am sick over it. Everything would have been fine but I underestimated the evil of my brother's addiction. Now, I am broke and stuck on this rig trying to get money that is coming too slowly. Even if I get the money I cannot send it home. My mother has lost her mental abilities COMPLETELY and my brother cannot be trusted with the money.
I don't want anything out of this. I don't care about the money from my mother's home. I want my mother on Medicaid. In order to get this done my brother has to sell her homestead. He has the Power of Attorney and all the legal rights to do it. Only HE can do it. The problem is this: Virgil is a drug addict and he cannot hold a thought or a "rational intention" for long enough to get it done. I need YOU to go find Virgil at my mother's address. I need YOU to buy that house from my mother using Virgil's Power of Attorney. I need YOU to let the State know that my mother's estate has been sold so that they can begin to assist her.
I asked Mr. Randall how much he thought I should pay for this property that I hadn't even seen yet. He said it didn't matter to h im. It was for Virgil and me to decide. And then he said something I'll never forget. Mr. Randal said, "The less you give Virgil, the better chance he has of surviving. Anything Virgil gets from the transaction will be spent on Heroin... and I don't know how much more he can take. If you can get him to sell you the property for $ 1.00 then buy it from him for $ 1.00. No matter what you give him, it will be gone in an instant. I am actually afraid that if he gets too much money he'll over dose"
Now that put me in a bit of an awkward situation to say the least. I want to make a fair deal, but I have no desire to further contribute to Virgil's horrible addiction or heaven forbid, facilitate a fatal overdose by giving this man money. I'd have to play this just right for everyone's sake.
That being said, Mr. Randall gave me directions to his mother's home and assured me that I would find his brother, Virgil, there. He was right.
When I arrived at the property I was stunned at the poverty amongst such beauty. The property was just off the main road and consisted of 14 acres, 2 large stone houses and 1 smaller stone guest house. I immediately saw beyond the trash and neglect. The setting was beautiful. The Oak trees were huge and tall and everything was positioned perfectly below the green canopies created by those massive trunks and limbs.
As I got to the crest of the hilltop this wonderful view of the lake came into sight. For a moment I could feel how this place must have felt in the good ole' days... back when Mr. & Mrs. Randall were young, vibrant and in love, with two beautiful, healthy sons (Randy and Virgil) in the yard, watching them play as they sipped lemonade on the front porch. How wonderful this home must have been in its time. I imagined it filled with love and happiness and sunny days... better days.
I was almost right there with the young Randall's when I was startled out of my daydream. I heard a s creen door swing open and slam shut and a voice from behind me. "Who the hell are you and why are you on my property?" I turned to see a very tall man dressed only in some ragged shorts walking towards me. He had bags under his eyes and his wildly contorted head of hair suggested he had just gotten out of bed. He was approaching me fast with not-so-friendly steps. I hurried to explain, "I am Mitch- Mitch Stephen. I have been talking to your brother via email and he says you could use some help. I am here to see if I can help you." He looked at me with suspicion, "My brother never helped me in his life so you better start tellin' me the truth real soon."
I thought to myself I'd better keep talking, "Your brother told me that your mother is in a bad situation. He asked me if I would come here and buy the property from YOU so that she could get her Medicaid assistance... does of any of this make sense to you?" Virgil indirectly answered my question, "You got cash?" I had been warned by Mr. Randall in his email but the harsh reality was coming into full view. I was dealing with a "black sheep" of the family. To make matters worse I was dealing with a "Black Sheep that had Power."
I have seen this before. It is some type of phenomenon that happens to more families than we think, probably. Everyone is doing quite well in the pecking order of life except for this one family member. And this One Family Member thinks the other family members owe them something. Black Sheep see themselves as victims. They never take responsibility for themselves. Black Sheep are "Black Sheep" because THEY label themselves "The Black Sheep." They are usually no problem until they get into a position of power. Virgil was aware of his "Position of Power." I could tell by the way he was wielding his words. Virgil was giving no time or effort to be polite or courteous because for once in his life he controlled something.
On that day, Virgil controlled his mother's property which put him in control of his mother's disposition which in turn put him in control of his older brother's emotions. For a while he even began to control me. I'll save that for later though.
I can almost tell you how the riff between these two brothers got started. I have no doubt that the older brother has pleaded time and time again with the younger brother trying to help. I can almost guarantee you that the older brother has bailed the younger brother out so many times that it is admirable. Virgil's addictions have blinded him. The persistence and actions and scolding by his older brother had been perceived by Virgil as HATE and not as LOVE. There's your wall... the wall between the healthy brother and the sick brother.
In order to navigate between these two siblings I am going to have to tread lightly... especially on Virgil's side of the road. I could be wrong... but until further data to substantiate things differently, this is how I'm pegging the two personalities;
Mr. Randall - Rational, Self-Sufficient, Older brother
Virgil - Irrational, Needy, Black Sheep syndrome, Younger brother
SOooo, where were we? Oh yes, were at the point in the conversation that Virgil was inquiring as to the color of my money. "Do you have cash?" Virgil asked. I was shaking my head yes as the smell of his approaching body took my words away.
Impulsively I stuck out my hand to greet him. He had gotten so close to me by now I didn't know what else to do. He smelled so bad I didn't even want to think about where his hands had been or how long it had been since he'd washed them. At best his fingernails we black at the ends because they had "dirt" under them. I had to fight to show no grimace as our palms touched. I told myself to get over it... and so I did... immediately.
Virgil's hand shake was hugely unimpressive. It was like squeezing a dead fish. Right or wrong, I have always associated a per son's hand shake somewhat with their character. Virgil's hand shake was empty, lifeless, disappointing. His handshake could have changed my opinion of him somewhat but instead it confirmed what I already suspected. After much wrangling we finally agreed on a price and we signed a contract.
As it is with most closings of magnitude it seems to take awhile for things to come together. The problem of closing quickly was compounded by some very different realities that I had never faced before;
a). I was dealing with a Heroin addict whose very interaction with anyone (like the title company or his mother's health providers) could send the deal to the gutter.
b). the heat of Texas summer was at its peak. Temperatures were reaching into the 100's and humidity was almost unbearable. Virgil was living in the property without electricity or water. The toilets had long since been satiated and the bathtub had become the 2nd choice for relief. The flies were by the thousands. Living conditions were horrid. The conditions were enough to make a heroin addict worse than "Irrational" ... many times Virgil was livid.
c). the property hadn't been surveyed in years and the real estate boom had everyone waiting weeks for services. Surveys were no exception.
d). the senile mother was on the verge of getting put out into the street by the hospice where she was staying. The money sent by Randall had never made it to the rest home and the monthly bills were months behind. I was constantly aware there was an innocent old woman who could not take care of her own well being... and the clock was ticking. As if all of this wasn't bad enough...
e). the title company wanted a "CYA" document to be signed by Randall in front of a U.S. Notary. Normally NOT a problem, but he was on an oil rig off the coast of Australia and the closest U.S. embassy was in England.
Yes, this deal was not going to happen as fast as I thought it was. I ha d already made the mistake of catering to Virgil's daily demands for rations. I thought it would only be for a day or two when I made that decision but now it looked like it was going to take a few weeks. Virgil had already threatened me with pulling the deal. He would call me at all hours of the day and night demanding money (probably because he needed Heroin). I never gave him money. As an act of charity I did continue to take food in ice chests now and then but I must admit... I'd tell him I was out of town from time to time to keep him off my back because he was so relentless with his position of power.
I called a friend for a favor to get the Survey done almost over night. I emailed Randall and after some 10 or 15 emails he finally accepted the fact that he was going to have to fly to England and sign one single piece of paper in front of a U.S. Notary Public. I called the mother's rest home and assured them that I was willing and VERY CAPABLE of closing the deal and that I would have Virgil sign a piece paper giving the title company the right to take the money they were owed out at closing and send it to them. Everything was moving in the right direction... except for Virgil.
Virgil was demanding a meeting or else. I figured something had to happen so I went to meet him. He tried the same thing again. He demanded money or the deal was off. I tried to rationalize with him but I new before I started that was not going to work. Even so I gave it a try. I told Virgil that there weren't but a handful of people that could pull this deal off faster than me. No bank in the world would loan money on a property the condition his was in and even if they would, intuitions were notoriously slow and 30 to 45 days to get a new loan would be normal. I had $ 80,000 CASH and I was ready to close but we were all at the mercy of other people right now. Virgil got very upset and his tone escalated. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to take his p ower away from him or he was going to run me in the ground. I look him squarely in his eyes and spoke softly but very sternly and with authority;
"Virgil, you are really starting to upset me. I have bought and brought you food and water, I have ordered surveys that I pay for, I have gotten your brother to fly to England, and I have bent over backwards for you. Furthermore, I am trying everything as fast as I can for your poor mother's sake. You don't seem to appreciate any of that so I am going to tell you how the cow is going to eat the cabbage... I have a contract at the title company signed by YOU in your own handwriting. I will not be treated this way by you any longer. If you do not close with me when it's time to close, then you will not close this property with ANYONE for a long, long time. Do you understand?"
...and in a single moment of clarity Virgil apologized to me. He became "humane" to me for the first time. For the first time, I could see this deal closing and the mother spending her last days in some level of comfort that Medicaid could provide.
Figuring that Virgil's money management skills weren't so great I tried to get him to accept payments instead of cash at closing. My reasoning was that he would have had an income for a long, long time to come. It would have been good for my business but more importantly I felt it would be the best thing for him. My words fell on deaf ears.
All the while, during all of the events described above, I had been marketing my position on the property. I actually had the property contracted for sale before I closed. Shortly after my heart to heart conversation with Virgil I simultaneously bought and sold the property on the same day. Everyone got what they agreed to and Virgil walked out of closing with a very large sum of money. I never saw Virgil again but about a month later I heard from credible sources that he was broke. I hated to hear that but it was foretold by R andall and I had figured as much.
Today the old house is show place. The people who purchased it did a wonderful job restoring it back to its natural potential and beyond. A lot of things happened during and after that transaction... some good stuff happened and some sad stuff happened. It all started with a Google search and an email off the coast of Australia.
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