I think I first realized we exist in a quirky, if not passionate and divided adult society when I found myself in a lecture hall observing an assistant professor and a fellow graduate student nearly coming to blows over a Henry James excerpt from the aptly titled, An International Episode. I watched on as a confederacy of my peers and elders; some undergrad, some doctoral, some by proxy—chimed in from the gallery seats as the two went at each other, a coffee breath’s apart. Before long, the entire crowd seemed to join in, taking sides on what does and does not constitute a cultural faux pas and whether James himself, a man already dead for 72 years, was a genius or an ass.
It was like a Pulitzer prize fight gone wild, only everyone was wearing turtlenecks and corduroy. I was proctoring the lecture to make up some lost hangover hours from another class. The whole Henry James dialectic was over my head to begin with, so who was I to judge, one way or another, who had the longest literary wiener? I fancied myself a sports writer, a true reporter of facts…(as I understood them, of course.) That was more than 25 years ago and the memory all but faded away…
…only to resurface this week as I got sucked into the Comment Section vacuum of a thousand faceless internet voices. I think we all know of what I speak so no more linkage. It intrigues me when I witness, walking past the bar of course, the same, aforementioned ardor present in, let’s say… the wide-screen crowd watching a televised sporting event. I’m always curious as to why these raving fans, dressed in home team regalia; scream, curse and cheer for or against a particular team or athlete (or candidate, for that matter) who doesn’t even know they exist. Like the Chazz Palminteri character, Sonny, says to C, in A Bronx Tale,
“Why you care about Mickey Mantle? He don’t care about you…” Willing suspension of disbelief can be, well…disbelievable, I guess.
I played sports, albeit Division III, well into adulthood and I’m here to reiterate what the majority of us should already know; most noble opponents, whether professional, amateur or literary, leave it at the field once the game has ended or the last shot has fired. It’s Read more
That one, solitary maverick CEO? The incomparable Glenn Kelman, of course. Call him what you will, he is sui generis, an entirely unique specimen.
And who will be defending the more-traditional strategies of residential real estate representation? None other than the matchless
Marc Davison a Little Nebbish”? Please understand, I am not saying that he is a little nebbish. But if Greg calling Marc a little nebbish is what got this whole mess going, I think it is a valid question. Why the big fuss over Greg calling Marc a little nebbish? Of all the things Greg has said and done it seems a bit odd that it is now important to unsubscribe to BHB and or stop posting here. I guess advocating the end of the NAR or all state licensing laws or all mandatory continuing education or the end of dual agency, not to mention the separation of the buyer agent commission from the seller – each and every one a common and typical and startling, in your face, post from Greg Swann. Lets see, this is the guy who went from just starting his blog to one of the most highly read real estate blogs in existence in less than a year – and this little faction of the real estate community is just now announcing, “I’ve unsubscribed”.

Judging this contest, I get to read a lot of talented writers. But only one can connect Amy Winehouse to real estate and have it all make the most delightful kind of sense. The Odysseus Medal this week goes to Geno Petro for