Tag: lot-sales

  • It Doesn’t Help Anyone If You Leave It In the Box

    It Doesn’t Help Anyone If You Leave It In the Box

    I tend to make a big deal about how important it is not to procrastinate. Just get started.

    Do the thing when you think of it instead of putting it off.

    It almost never hurts to do something a little earlier than you absolutely have to, instead of waiting until the last minute.

    So I’m going to tell on myself.

    A while back, for my birthday, my dad bought me a portable car battery booster. One of those little jump-start packs. I didn’t even know I wanted it, but he got it for me, I said thanks, and that was that.

    Fast forward to a few days ago. One of my daughters called and said her battery was dead. And where was that booster?

    Still sitting in the original Amazon box in the back seat of my truck.

    Now, I’ve got jumper cables, so it wasn’t the end of the world. But it would have been easier. And that’s the point.

    Low-risk example. Same lesson.

    Normally I wouldn’t bother mentioning the booster itself because it has nothing to do with real estate. But these things are actually great.

    It fits in a small bag. You carry it in one hand. If your battery is dead, you hook it up and start the car. No second vehicle. No asking strangers for help.

    No waiting around in a parking lot hoping someone stops.

    I’m probably going to buy one for all my kids.

    My daughters especially worry about being stuck somewhere and having to deal with people they don’t know. If they’ve got one of these, they don’t need anyone. It’s just handled.

    You can also charge your phone with it. It charges by USB, so you can plug it in while you’re driving. It’s got a flashlight built in too.

    It’s not much more expensive than a decent set of jumper cables, and it takes up less space than most glove box junk.

    They’re just useful.

    If you’ve got kids, it will give you peace of mind.

    If you have one already, don’t be like me. Take it out of the box. But if not, go buy one and actually use it.

    You can get the same one I have from Amazon at the link below.

    Or buy a nicer one. I don’t care. Just don’t leave it sitting in the box like I did.

    Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. That means if you buy something—anything—after clicking that link, I may receive a small commission. It doesn’t change your price.

  • You Don’t Know, til You Know

    You Don’t Know, til You Know

    Nothing’s Final ‘Til the Dirt Turns

    If you live in North Texas, you know two things: people are always moving here, and traffic keeps getting worse.

    The cities, counties, and state can’t build roads fast enough to keep up. And in my line of work—land and lot sales—knowing what roads are planned is part of the job.

    Property owners near these proposed roads usually know something’s coming. Once word gets out, their price expectations go up—sometimes way up.

    But here’s the catch: just because a road is “planned” doesn’t mean it’s happening any time soon—or at all. Projected dates mean nothing if the money’s not there. And politics can shift everything: the timeline, the location, or whether it gets built at all.

    Case in point: the Collin County Outer Loop. It was first announced back in 2010. A few segments are driveable now. The rest? Still on paper.

    One of my clients bought land near the “technically preferred alignment” not long ago—well after that 2010 route was released. Fifteen years passed with very little movement. Then, just last month, the county came out with four updated alternatives. Good news: all four ran right by our property. Even better news: it was in a prime spot, potentially on the corner.

    So we celebrated—too soon.

    Turns out, those four aren’t final. The alignment could still change. And until it’s locked in, we can’t sell. The value depends entirely on where that road ends up.

    Another property I handled had a highway interchange announced on it. One proposed route would’ve made the land worthless. The other? Worth millions. Thankfully, it went our way—but it was a stressful ride.

    Bottom line: until the dirt is turning, nobody really knows. Not the government, not the engineers, not the landowners—nobody.

    Sure, it helps to have the best info you can get. Just don’t bet the farm on it.

    Want to know what roads might be planned near your land? I’ll tell you what I know—no charge.


  • They want to buy my truck (at the cost of my sanity)

    They want to buy my truck (at the cost of my sanity)

    Curiosity didn’t kill the crow—but it sure blew up his phone.

    I recently made the mistake of entering my info into one of those “we want to buy your truck” ads.

    I like my truck. I own it outright. There’s no way they’re giving me enough for it to get a new one without payments—so what’s the point?

    Well… I’m curious. And I couldn’t help myself.

    So I punched in all the info. And surprise—it was worth more than I thought. But like I said, still not enough. And I knew that going in.

    Now I’m paying for it.

    Multiple calls. Texts. Emails. Every day.

    The ad should’ve read:

    “Find out what your truck is worth—and also let us call you during dinner every night.”

    I’ve told them I’m not interested. Doesn’t matter. They keep trying new angles:

    “If anything changes, let me know!”

    “May I ask what you’re willing to sell it for?”

    “Would you consider trading it in?”

    And so on. Forever.

    Look—I’m not mad at the guy making the calls. He’s just doing his job. Somebody somewhere has decided this makes money. I guess it must.

    But there’s got to be a better way to follow up without actively annoying the person you’re trying to win over.

    Then again, it’s car sales. Maybe they’ve just accepted that alienating people is part of the process.

    Anyway, I’m in sales too. I get it. Most people don’t decide to work with you unless you ask them.

    But this is why I don’t cold call. I don’t text unless we’re working a deal. It’s intrusive. Pushy.

    I do email. A lot. Almost every day. Sometimes more, if we are doing business.

    But you can read or ignore it on your terms. And hopefully, it’s either helpful or entertaining—or both.

    And yes, I usually end these emails with a reminder that when you’re ready to buy or sell land, I’m easy to find.

    But you’ll never feel hounded. Promise.

    And if these ever feel like too much?

    Just hit unsubscribe. I’ll miss you, but I won’t bug you.

    Can’t say the same for the truck guys.