Lily's Diary
by Lily
June 8
I didn't have the guts to go myself, and I sure couldn't persuade my friend Maggie to spy for me, but there was a powwow at St. Mary's Cathedral yesterday that deserves a mention. The young idealists who rallied around Matt Gonzalez in his 2003 run for mayor held what they called the San Francisco People's Convention. Its purpose was to determine the defining issues of the city's progressive community. I admit to not really understanding the word “progressive” and am frequently challenged by the way community is bandied about. But whatever, I have a feeling that rebuilding the Gonzalez base will not bode well for property owners. A popular blog (www.beyondchron.org) reported that a crowd of several hundred people found agreement in reforming the Rent Board. Supervisor Mirkarimi was quoted as saying, “Today is about more than just policies and agendas; it's about the beginning of a revolution.” As the movie trailer says, “Be afraid. Be very afraid.”
June 13
My nephew George the roofer—not the brightest bulb on the family string—put a new roof on my building last year. I was greatly disappointed to find that when it rained, water still came through the ceiling in one corner of my bedroom. I recently telephoned George, who still lives with his mother, and complained bitterly. He climbed back up on the roof and, following my directions, put some sealer on the joint where I believed the weak spot to be. Still, the water came through. When George returned with his trowel and goop, I asked my next door neighbor, Mark, if I could look out his third floor window to see exactly where George was applying the seal. From this position, I could yell out and guide him to the low points where I thought the water was pooling. He followed my directions somewhat halfheartedly. The rain stopped. Assuming it was fixed, I was dismayed to find that during the next rain, it leaked again. In exasperation I confronted him: “You've been here three times, George, haven't you learned anything?” “Oh yes, Aunt Lil,” he replied, “I've learned that water is smarter than you are.”
June 14
“Oh, just leave us alone,” was my unintended outburst at Café Flore this morning when I read that Supervisor Daly had introduced legislation giving anyone the power to nominate a tree on private property for landmark status. Ignoring the looks from nearby tables, I continued reading the article, which went on to say that any tree over 20 feet tall or with a canopy broader than 15 feet could be designated a landmark and, hence, protected from the axe. Not satisfied with that, Daly says that even if the tree isn't a landmark, owners should need a permit from DPW to cut it down or pay a $200 fine. To their credit, Supervisors Dufty, Ma and McGoldrick, members of the committee reviewing the bill, all agreed it wasn't ready for primetime and refused to send it to the full board. But as sure as Café Flore's outside tables will all be taken on a sunny day, Daly will return to curry favor with the tree lobby.
June 18
At a retirement party in a Chinese restaurant last night, I was watching with dread a platter of deep-fried duck fat coming slowly toward me on the lazy Susan when I heard someone say, “I'll never understand why tenant advocates don't work to get those units that have been taken off the market back in circulation.” I agreed, of course, and thought to myself that the rental stock would instantly increase by some 10,000 units—something that would take the city ten years to produce. But who wants to be a smart ass at a social event? So I queried innocently, “And just how could they do that?” Of all the ideas (some cockamamie, others politically incorrect) enthusiastically offered through full mouths, one very realistic suggestion emerged: “Eliminate eviction control from the Rent Ordinance on a trial basis for landlords over 65 years of age, so they could gain control over who lived in their buildings.” The older gentleman explained that it wouldn't affect the monthly rent, but a senior landlord wouldn't have to fear living with someone undesirable and would be free to evict him or her with reasonable notice. Things got so lively that I was able to nudge the duck right past me to my neighbor on the left.
June 24
The newspapers are abuzz today over a Supreme Court decision (the last of three important property rights cases reviewed this session) in which the city of New London, Connecticut, was given the legal go-ahead to take over private property in order to sell it to a private developer. Oops, there was that inconvenient little detail that some of the homeowners did not want to sell. Amazingly, property rights took second place to states' rights, which as I understand the Constitution is exactly backwards; so the New London homeowners have started packing. This month's earlier decisions, which also set dangerous precedents for property rights, dealt with both constraints on the owners of San Francisco's San Remo Hotel and a case of rent control for gas-station operators in Hawaii. In all three cases, the country's highest court failed to recognize the taking of private assets. As Justice Sandra Day O'Connor said in her dissent in the New London case, “Now the specter of condemnation hangs over all property. Nothing is to prevent the State from replacing any Motel 6 with a Ritz-Carlton.” (The justification being that it is for the economic good of the community.) But it just may backfire: moderates have been awakened. California State Senator Tom McClintock issued a statement, explaining that the “responsibility now falls on the various states to reassert and restore the property rights of their citizens.” From his mouth to God's ear.
June 27
I was nursing a martini at the bar at Westlake Joe's the other night, waiting for a friend to arrive (at least that was my story), when a woman sitting a few seats away started complaining to the bartender about the trouble she had with a tenant. Naturally, I moved down to the empty seat beside her and insinuated myself into the conversation. Soon, the bartender moved on to other customers and left us bonding. It was “Joan” and “Lily,” “Lily” and “Joan.” Hers was a familiar story: a nice young tenant, the original tenant, asked if her boyfriend could move in to her unit. A few months later, the boyfriend started using drugs and the woman, fed up with the boyfriend's lifestyle, moved out. The boyfriend then proceeded to bring in two roommates who seemed nice enough. One, a young woman, asked politely if she could assemble her hand-made jewelry on a table along the wall of the garage. Joan knew the woman was recently divorced and needed to supplement her income, so she agreed. (You know what's coming.) Two years later, the jewelry had gone from gluing stones on steel posts to metal necklaces and armbands, many requiring the use of solvents and a small blowtorch. Joan said she was panicky about the use of a soldering iron so close to her PT Cruiser, not to mention the fumes from solvents reaching the boiler, also in the garage. Her requests to stop it were met with hard-luck stories. She had the fire department come out, but they said that unless they actually saw someone in the act of carelessly using flammable substances, they could do nothing. Finally, the trio began to fall behind in their rent. Joan served them a three-day notice and, with an attorney, started eviction proceedings. The lesson? Serve a 6.14 form to all subsequent tenants and don't give anyone permission to use your garage or any other space for their projects or property. Bear in mind that in so doing, you waive your right to take the space back. Just think of Joan. Eight thousand dollars later, she's ordering a third martini with tears streaming down her face.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the viewpoint of the SFAA or the San Francisco Apartment Magazine. Lily's Diary is written by a longtime rental property owner who reserves the right to remain anonymous on the grounds that her tenants might gang up on her. Comments, corrections or ideas are welcome at lilysdiary@aol.com. Copyright © 2005 by the San Francisco Apartment Magazine. All rights reserved.