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The American Daily - Commentary |
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Monday, 13 February 2006 |
A SHABBY ‘NEW’ HOUSE FOR A HALF-MILLION DOLLARS !
...my new house was a challenge. How do you deal with workers and service representatives who really don’t give a damn? Their game is to wear you down so you become so numb that you simply give up. They could care less about the time and money you have invested to make things work...The customer – the consumer – is no longer in charge of what they buy. They are at the mercy of the builder, the electrician, the plumber, the carpenter, the painter, and the indifferent service reps and sales clerks at the retail stores. I’ve lost the America I grew up in during the 1940s and ‘50s. I no longer expect to see that level of care and consideration for the rest of my lifetime.
The American Daily
Commentary
A SHABBY ‘NEW’ HOUSE FOR A HALF-MILLION DOLLARS !
By Gordon Bishop (02/13/2006)
My wife and I bought a new house for $500,000 in Monmouth County, New Jersey, this past December. It was supposed to be our “Dream House.†The architecture is attractive. The interior design is elegant.
What was missing in our new house was the fine workmanship we had in our two previous homes in 1967 and 1971.
Our family and friends are impressed with the outside and inside of the house. It is a beautiful abode.
But the workmanship is shabby. Whoever painted the inside walls had to be blind. There is white paint on our dark hardwood floors and on our beige carpets.
When we were giving a “walk-through†of our new house, we found no fewer than 25 flaws that had to be corrected, both inside and outside. There were cracks in the cement of the apron of our two-car garage, on the front sidewalk, and the walkway to the front door.
Molding was installed with cuts that weren’t properly caulked and painted.
There were holes in the tile floor of our second bathroom.
No less than 20 strips of hardwood had to be replaced in the kitchen area because of scratches and holes.
Screws had to be replaced because they did not fit the heating/cooling outlets.
A sharp nail in one of the two walk-in clothes closets in our master bedroom stuck out like a shark’s tooth.
Our three windows in our bedroom were so loose that the cold winter winds blew right through them. They had to be re-set by a window specialist.
The rear sliding door of our family room is crooked and cold air blows through a 1/4 –inch crack. Had to Scotch tape the crack until it’s fixed in the warm weather.
The master bedroom bath medicine chest is crooked. Has to be reset.
The eight-foot-long master bath mirror had a deep cut in it. It’s awaiting a replacement two months after we moved in.
The master bath shower leaked water onto the tile floor. It still leaks aftter being caulked twice.
There was caulking and putty here and there that was not scraped off.
The front porch was poorly painted and has to be redone.
One of the garage doors had a big hole in the interior insulation panel.
A sloppy worker put his cigarette on a white, plastic windowsill – and burned a brown hole in it.
A lush green hill with bushes, trees and wildflowers behind our home was bulldozed into a lifeless pile of dirt, causing erosion and wetlands in my backyard. To be corrected soon.
My wife came home one afternoon and the gas fireplace in the Great Room was on full blast. She found out the fireplace went on when the woman in the house next to us put on her fireplace, which had the same remote control code as ours. We were given a new code so our neighbors couldn’t light our gas fires with their remote controls.
For a brand new house, it was an impressive space that never should have been occupied until all of the flaws were first corrected. That’ll take at least 90 days.
The upgraded refrigerator we ordered through the developer didn’t work. The frozen food was covered with frost and icicles hanging from the shelves. It took four technicians and three deliveries to replace the defective refrigerator with a different model that didn’t have the same features of the one we selected when we bought the house. The second refrigerator was a downgraded version with one storage bin missing. This sad saga is now in its eighth week and remains in limbo.
The dishwasher didn’t work because either the installer or the builder forgot to turn on the hot water faucet under the sink.
The utility room in the attic housing the furnace and air conditioner was covered with white dust, dirt, and globs of putty and spackling. It took me an hour to sweep, vacuum and clean up that mess.
Whatever happened to selling a new house with only a few flaws?
Workmanship has dramatically declined over the past 40 years. Immigrants who can’t speak English are working for $7 or $10 an hour. They work without health or pension benefits.
My own observations lead me to believe that the developer built a fine-looking house, but raced through the finishing details.
I sold my 35-year-old-house a few miles away for $435,000. It was in mint condition. The family that bought it said they had never seen a house “so clean and neat.†In a word, “Spotless.â€
That’s how I sold my second house that was built in late 1970 and early 1971. My wife and I kept it in impeccable condition. It was the “model†house on our block.
“Quality†no longer counts. It’s like, “Build ‘em, sell ‘em and move on†to the next big development.
It was the “iceberg†refrigerator that finally prompted me to write this column. I don’t like complainers or whiners. Actually, we should be grateful that we live in America with all of its freedoms and opportunities.
Yes, I am an American, a proud patriot committed to solving problems, not creating them.
But my new house was a challenge. How do you deal with workers and service representatives who really don’t give a damn? Their game is to wear you down so you become so numb that you simply give up. They could care less about the time and money you have invested to make things work.
Today, America’s service economy is in deep trouble. The customer – the consumer – is no longer in charge of what they buy. They are at the mercy of the builder, the electrician, the plumber, the carpenter, the painter, and the indifferent service reps and sales clerks at the retail stores.
I’ve lost the America I grew up in during the 1940s and ‘50s. I no longer expect to see that level of care and consideration for the rest of my lifetime.
*Ed: Views are those of individual authors and not necessarily those of American Daily.
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