Today’s Washington Post has a horror story about how the apparent collapse of Century Pool Management, a swimming pool management firm in Gaithersburg, left a lot of young foreign lifeguards stranded in the U.S.

City Paper wrote about that same company’s reliance on labor from Eastern Europe at the beginning of the pool season.

At the time, Century and others in the recreation realm were complaining that changes in work visa regulations would keep tens of thousands of experienced lifeguards out of the U.S. this year. Only foreign students were still able to take the seasonal work legally this summer, while veteran first responders, who used to get into the U.S. using H-2B visas, were shut out when those visas were all-but eliminated amid the anti-immigration mania on Capitol Hill.

Century’s foreign lifeguards are quoted in the Post piece that Century stopped paying them before summer’s end, and now the company has shut its offices leaving the imported laborers unable to afford the trips home.

Welcome to America!

I wish I could have written the article that accompanied the headline above. Better yet, I wish I could have written that headline (It’s sharp, and eye-catching! One for the journalism textbooks!)

Unfortunately, I’m not James J. Cramer. He wrote the piece, published in this week’s New York magazine.

Cramer provides 10 reasons why he believes the market will bottom out at the above-mentioned date. I’ll give you his first five factors summarized, and then you’ll have to click over to the story yourself.

(1) The slide in the number of new homes on the market.

(2)New federal legislation that will stabilize mortgage rates, and hopefully reduce the number of foreclosed homes.

(3) “Bargains!”

(4)New York, “the last holdout area,” is closing in on its bottom. “When the last areas fall, the bottoming process begins in earnest.”

(5) Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac will be in better shape.

I’m curious what other real estate watchers have to say about this…So, I’m going to try to dig up some local responses in the next week or so. If you want to throw in your two cents in the comments section, I won’t stop you.

Al Tompkins of Tampa’s Poynter Institute posted an article this morning about the lengths a candidate will go to characterize his childhood as poverty-stricken:

Looking over the main speeches of the DNC, I have been amused/amazed by how often speakers have referred to their penniless humble roots, as if that makes them more like the rest of us….

It is a refrain of the old American Dream/Rags to Riches notion. Except today’s politician doesn’t want anything to do with claiming they are rich.

Tompkins goes on to argue that candidates should emphasize their wealth, because who wants a bankrupt clown in the Oval Office? I think he’s right on with his assessment. I wouldn’t trust a schizophrenic to assess my mental health, why would I choose for a lead role in our current economic tragedy someone who’s barely getting by over someone who knows how to make and invest big bucks ?

But I can understand why politicians are reluctant to play up their 4br/3ba summer homes. One, it might irritate the egos of that super-sensitive middle class: “He doesn’t know how much gas costs? Who doesn’t know that? It costs a lot. Why the hell does he go and admit that? I don’t even want to hear from this guy about energy policy.”

And two, it seems that every election cycle provides a vindication of those secret jealousies in the form of a  media slew lambasting the wealthier politician for being “out of touch with the real America.” Examples include attacks on John Kerry and his wife’s ketchup fortune, and–for us Gen Yers–’90s Nickelodeon caricatures of Ross Perot squeaking out campaign slogans while shoving money down the front of his pants.

Oddly enough, we usually elect the rich folk no matter what they say about their income–if they say anything at all: “U.S. Senators are worth, on average, more than $10 million. Their colleagues in the House average personal wealth of more than $5 million.”

Whodathunkit?

Last Spring we tracked Positive Nature’s struggle to keep its doors open. The non-profit, which provides tons of services for at-risk kids, was renting a building just blocks from the new Nationals Park. Within the last few years, it had become clear that Positive Nature was being priced out of the neighborhood. The area used to include a housing project. Now it has a Courtyard Marriott. You can read our previous reportage here, here, here, here, and here. If you feel like skipping all those links, here’s a quick summary: the non-profit owed thousands of dollars in property taxes, they held a rally and reached out for support, legislation was introduced before the D.C. Council, nothing much happened with the legislation, the non-profit sought out a new location.

Now comes the news that Positive Nature has found a new space through the Department of Parks And Recreation in what looks like a new partnership.

“We are so appreciative of all of the outpouring of care and support that so many people have extended to us in recent months, and we are privileged to have the opportunity to continue to provide services to the District’s children and families,” wrote Jennifer Murphy, the non-profit’s co-founder and co-executive director.

The new location: The TR Center at 3030 G Street SE.

We will of course be following up with a visit to the TR Center. Stay tuned.

On my own, moving consisted of ferrying plastic post office bins filled with vinyl LPs between the old apartment and the new apartment. Eighteen boxes with only the help of a friend with a bum shoulder and another buddy who’s strength maxed out at opening doors. By the time my precious Minutemen, Curtis and Funkadelic jams were in the new place, my knees ached, my lower back craved a fistful of pain pills, and my right arm had a nice deep bruise. Less fun: navigating a District population who didn’t care as much as I did about my Kinks, Animal Collective, and Andrew Hill LPs. No one gave up their parking spaces or moved out of the way. A handful opened a door or two. But that’s it.

Real movers have the power in this city. On Saturday, the movers were supposed to show up between 9 and 10 a.m. They didn’t. They ended up being five hours late. Nothing I could do. We’d call the movers’ dispatcher and he’d offer up some lame excuses I think about a mover not coming into work or the classic–”they’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Twenty minutes turned into five hours! The best excuse: the movers stopped at a Quiznos. That took another 90 minutes. And there was nothing we could. We couldn’t hire another mover. And we couldn’t fit half of our stuff into my Corolla.

When the movers finally arrived and got to my stuff, I realized that they could flout the rules of the city without a care in the world. They parked their moving truck half illegally on my narrow street (1400 block of Newton Street NW) and proceeded to take apart my futon, and stack up my boxes of kitchen stuff, CDs, and books. When a woman refused to try pass the truck, fearing her car would get scraped up, she blocked traffic all the way to 14th Street.

People got mad. Drivers got out of their cars. There was a lot of yelling in Spanish.

A big Dad type threatened to call the police on my movers. The movers just smiled–they didn’t give a damn. As they carted the rest of my stuff into the truck–total move time: 20 minutes–the dude actually called 911.

The movers just started up the truck and headed toward my new place. Newton Street’s traffic began to flow again. And I followed a car ahead of the angry dad.

I am moving this weekend. To honor the occasion, I opened up my top desk drawer. I haven’t opened this drawer in months. I haven’t looked deep inside it in at least a year. I treated it as a museum for my very important papers and receipts and reporter stuff. I don’t think I’ve cleaned it out in eight years. Two days ago, I decided to clean it out.

Here’s a small fraction of what I found (most of which I decided to keep):

• One business card bearing the name of David Catania. Not sure how vintage this card is since he still practices law on the side. But it was his business card for his work as an attorney. I’m gonna date this card from 2000 or so.
• One reporter’s notebook containing pencil on white paper notes from an artifact (remember those?) profiling the Black Cat Guy—Bill Turner. Notebook dates to 1997-1998.
• One D.C. Police Department-issue press pass (yellow with small one-inch-by-one-inch black and white photo taken by Darrow Montgomery). Photo reveals reporter thought big sideburns were cool. Photo and press pass from 2003.
• One tape, the last known recordings of John Thomas Cade Jr. aka “Junior.” Junior was killed in a drive-by shooting on December 27, 1994. His murder remains unsolved. You can read about him here. Tape placed in desk in December 2000.
• Ticket stubs to Cal Ripken Jr.’s second-to-last game ever, a Mekons show at the Black Cat, and Ornette Coleman at Carnegie Hall.
• Receipt for Kay-brand semi-hollow body electric guitar purchased soon after Clinton’s impeachment proceedings for $500-something dollars. Not one complete song ever played on guitar. Receipt and guitar will look awesome in my new apartment’s walk-in closet.

What do you have in your desks?

In my weekly search for properties for Buyer’s Market (our feature on homes with major price drops in the DC area), I look at a lot of real estate listings, Craigslist advertisements, and random webpages. This image is by far the wackiest thing I’ve ever stumbled on. I can’t say it really came with much explanation. But when you click on the image—found on Craiglist—it links to this website.

Dear Property Manager:

Yesterday, you bumped into me at the front door of our building. You seemed eager to talk. I had been thinking about you, too. You had been on my mind especially since I called you while you were away on vacation. Remember?

I told you I was moving out. You didn’t seem to care. Which is cool. I like a neutral relationship between renter and property manager. And as far as these relationships go, I think it was pretty awesome.

Yeah, there was the time the AC went down for 10 days and you took to posting memos telling me you were “on it.” And there were the bed bugs that seemed to appear in the apartments around mine. But when there was that chemical spill from inside the hoarder dude’s apartment last summer–you handed me a free water while we waited for the fire department to poke around. That free water hit the spot.

But best of all: You seem really enthusiastic about your role as Property Manager.

Anyway. Glad we caught each other last night. You got to watch me move records into a friend’s car. And then you asked me a funny question: “Are you sleeping in your apartment?”

And then you told me that you couldn’t give me notice before showing my apartment to prospective tenants. Isn’t that like against our lease? I wouldn’t know. I don’t know where my lease is as it is buried in a box somewhere. See–I’m packing.

So this letter is to again give you a little warning. My apartment–the one you will be showing off to prospective tenants–is a total dump right now. There are boxes everywhere. Boxes on the bed. Boxes on the floor. And there are little bits of paper and dust bunnies. And dead bugs!

So good luck renting my place. I’m not officially moving out until Sept. 1. This should give you plenty of time. If you wait three days, the boxes will be gone. And maybe the dust bunnies.

Sincerely,

Jason Cherkis

I must admit to being a little pumped about the big Dog Days Sale that hits U Street’s arty shops this weekend. These are the shops that aspire to be eco-friendly, support local artists/designers, or just sell really interesting vintage stuff. And they are all significantly out of my price range. But maybe not tomorrow as the stores will be slashing prices!

A list of participating stores can be found here.

In shocking-but-not-surprising news (or is it surprising-but-not-shocking news? or is it neither?) upstart Patrick Mara has won the endorsement of the D.C. Chamber of Commerce PAC over incumbent Carol Schwartz in the Republican at-large primary, LL has learned.

And, in news that is definitely neither surprising nor shocking, incumbent Marion Barry won the endorsement in the Ward 8 Democratic primary, meaning Schwartz is the sole incumbent not to get the chamber nod.

Mara already won the endorsement of the city’s other main business group, the Greater Washington Board of Trade, and the chamber’s nod solidifies the notion that biz is out to get Schwartz due to her support of mandatory sick leave for District employees.

The sick leave maneuver wasn’t a total political disaster for Schwartz: She’s been rolling in the union endorsements ever since. The real proof of the fallout from the supposed biz-world abandonment will come Aug. 10, when the next round of campaign-finance disclosures are due.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

UPDATE, 3:30 P.M.: Kelvin Robinson, the former chief of staff to Mayor Anthony A. Williams who is now a consultant and chair of the chamber’s political action committee, wouldn’t get into specifics of what led to Mara getting the endorsement, except to say candidates are judged “how they best align with the views and the issues the business community cares about” and “their fresh perspective on the issues of the day.”

As far as what those issues are, Robinson cited “level of taxation…and what can we do to stem the tide of excessive regulation that can stymie economic progress in the city,” in addition to general concerns about crime and education.

Mara cited the chamber and Board of Trade nods as further proof of his “real Republican” bona fides, pointing out, “She’s endorsed by SEIU and the AFL-CIO. That just kind of says how we stand on these issues….That certainly says something to Republican voters.”

Mara says he’s continuing to raise money, with two fundraisers already under his belt this week, with two more scheduled before the filing deadline.

For this week’s cover story, I decided to check out the personal homes of a few of the city’s so-called slumlords. Some of them were typical fat cats: dudes with mansions in Potomac who made their fortunes renting run-down apartments in the city.

One guy turned out not to be a slumlord at all—he has a nice house in Cap Hill and some pretty nice affordable housing in Southeast. What surprised me was the number of alleged slumlords who live in pretty crummy cribs. Lots of peeling paint and chintzy furniture. The star of my adventure was Rufus Stancil, who lives in a big, beautiful house on upper 16th. It really needs a new coat of paint. Most of the landlords I talked to were open and tried to make a case for themselves. Stancil wanted me out. Here’s a photo I shot of him after he shoved his arm in my face:

Also: a bit of opining that didn’t end up in the story: Many of the tenant advocates I spoke with were worried that the city’s recent lawsuit against several landlords had been hastily thrown together, that it was more political posturing than dedication to fixing a problem. I did find two serious mistakes in the suit: the city is suing two dead people. They say they’re going to fix that.

An IHOP opened in Congress Heights three days ago. Normally, this would not qualify as big news. The International House of Pancakes isn’t exactly a place of culinary wonder; its slogans are either corny (”An American Icon”) or sad (”This is My IHOP”). The sorriest thing in the world isn’t John McCain’s new ad featuring Britney or Fox’s morning show. It’s this video of a marriage ceremony performed at an IHOP. IHOP is no Original House of Pancakes (the best breakfast place of all time).

Still. The pancake/crepe/T-bone joint is the first major sitdown to open up in Ward 8 since forever. Or long before Barry used the ward’s council seat as his retirement fund. Zing! So Ward 8 finally enters the world of food–huge, huge portions, low, low price–made for old people and drunks.

The CW is that IHOP is a greasy spoon made somewhat depressing by the embarrassingly-named deals, super-sweet concoctions (it’s latest being an apple-cobbler-themed pancake special), and the fact that you must be hammered to consume such products. The food seems created by incredibly stoned evangelicals: wholesome turned vaguely unwholesome.

These are food stuffs mainly inhaled during the hours of 2 a.m. to 4 a.m. It’s dark outside and lonely inside. You only go to IHOP when you’ve struck out for the night. You aren’t getting laid. Fuck it, you go to IHOP, your drunken stupor made correct with eggs, sausage, bacon, three buttermilk pancakes, and bottomless coffee.

That was the Old IHOP.

The New IHOP is located on Alabama Avenue SE just inside the Camp Simms Giant parking lot. The New IHOP is bright, warm, inviting, clean, and boasts 37 cheery employees for every customer. The New IHOP has Karen: The Most Dedicated Waitress Ever.

Karen was our server.

When Karen approached our table, she glowed. This was her second night, she told us. Thank you sitting in her section, she told us. She is very excited, she told us.

My source I was eating with offered a nervous smile to all her replies. After she gave us our bottomless sodas and iced-Ts, she smiled some more. You guys ready, she asked.

My source wanted to know why she was so excited.

“I’m alive,” Karen said and then took in a deep breath proving she was alive.

OK.

Read the rest of this entry »

A week or two ago, I spent serious time commuting to and from Henson Ridge for a story on the struggling Hope VI community. As far as appearances go, the neighborhood is well-made, well-designed, and has some nifty new playgrounds. On closer inspection, teenagers still gravitate toward the decrepit rec center and crummy basketball courts, and have converted a set of jersey barriers into a hangout spot. Violence has inched up. Residents have started complaining about trash piling up at those new playgrounds, the lack of routine upkeep, and the need for more cops on their new streets.

There’s tension between renters vs. homeowners, grandmothers vs. bored teenagers, and residents seeking comfort and quiet vs. residents or visitors sipping the cheap stuff in public.

But what felt so much like the old housing project days wasn’t these gripes. It was hearing residents talk about the management company–Edgewood.

Of course, I didn’t interview every resident. And some I did talk to had no complaints and loved Henson Ridge. But there were others who shared a different history. There was the resident whose air conditioner had been broken for a week. She says she called Edgewood multiple times and even visited their offices in Henson Ridge twice. She was still without AC.

And there were the three residents who had bullet holes in their walls. Two of whom made reference to promises Edgewood had made to them. And still the holes hadn’t been fixed. I don’t know about you but I’d prefer a kitchen without a bullet hole.

Schnetia Green, 65, had lived with a bullet hole above her kitchen table for more than a month. She had complained but could get no one from Edgewood to fix it. Then I showed up at her door.

A few days after my story ran on Henson Ridge, she called to give me the good news. The hole had been fixed.

“It just got fixed Monday,” Green says. “But look how long it was open before they fixed it?”

Yeah. But that was before Washington City Paper came to the rescue, right? Did the management company, um, mention my story?

“They didn’t mention it,” Green says.

Very interesting. Edgewood not only fixed her pocked wall but they went ahead and fixed her droopy ceiling. They probably expected a follow-up expose! Right?

The on-going battle over vending operations around Nationals Park took a step toward a resolution this afternoon. A D.C. Superior Court judge ruled against three vendors seeking to halt the Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs‘ current practice of assigning vendors to sites outside the stadium via a lottery.

Judge Brook Hedge denied the vendors’ motion for a preliminary injunction against DCRA.

The vendors had serious gripes against the city agency for a number of reasons–some of which were sketched out in the motion, some were not. The city took too long in formulating a system for assigning vendor sites at Nationals Park, they say. After emergency legislation was passed for some 40 possible locations, DCRA awarded only 28 locations–and all the locations were north of M Street. Most of the sites would be lucky to get a handful of Nats fans let alone make any real profit. You can see the 28 locations with this handy map.

Another 14 sites had been awarded in a lottery last week. Those sites were closer to Nationals Park. Another lottery is scheduled for today.

Update 5:19 p.m.: The vendors had argued before the court that DCRA should not have held the lottery–that the D.C. Police Department should be in charge. There also needed to be more back-and-forth over the lottery process itself.

Judge Hedge wrote in her opinion: “Plaintiffs’ claims rest on shaky ground. Contrary to plaintiffs’ arguments, on April 23, 2008, the Mayor did issue a delegation of authority for the vending site and vending selections at Nationals Park to the Director of the DCRA…The proposed regulations do not require that non-R.F.K. Stadium-vendor-applicants be licensed prior to entry into the lottery.” The Judge went on to write that the vendors weren’t losing that much money since working the Nationals Park was only a part-time job. And that the vendors’ gripes were minor.

Judge Hedge wrote: “It is evident from the legislative history discussed above that this was a fast-moving situation and that, in order to maintain peace and tranquility, given the prior events which led to the vendor moratorium, and that the City Council expected vendor sites to be allocated for the full baseball season, that emergency regulations were necessary…”

The city plans to spend over $2 million on a vacant lot in Shaw to move forward on rehabbing the historic Howard Theater.

The parcel, behind the theater at 1830 Wiltberger Place NW, is assessed at about $1.25 million. Under the contract submitted for council approval, the city proposes paying $2,012,500 for the lot. That’s a premium of 60 percent.

The land is needed, according to city documents, to construct “back-of-the-house facilities” and loading areas for the theater, to which the city has committed up to $15 million in grants and tax breaks. Now anyone with a modicum of real-estate knowledge knows that assessed valuations are always well underneath market values, but a 60 percent premium is noteworthy—especially in the current real-estate market.

The lot’s owner, Himat A. Gulajan of Centreville, was not available for comment; a person answering his phone said he’s out of town until Monday.

Sean Madigan, a spokesperson for Deputy Mayor for Planning and Economic Development Neil Albert, says the price is tied to an appraisal that puts the value of the land at $1.75 million. As for the 14 percent extra the city is paying, Madigan says it “isn’t uncommon to pay a premium in circumstances like this,” where a parcel is needed for a larger project.