Listicles, Drones, James Taylor and Rude Home Sellers
For some labrador-squirrel-jerk reason, I found myself distracted the other day by 9 Things James Taylor Will Never Understand, and laughing myself silly. Oh, wait, I do recall why I ended up on that website when I have so many other more important tasks at hand: real estate-related stuff to do for my clients and also to research how to become a Known Traveler (from Sacramento, you have to go to San Francisco) to avoid those long lines at U.S. Customs.
I googled the term “listicles” because I have been asked by About.com to write such a thing for a new campaign.
Turns out I’ve been writing listicles all along for years and never realized it. Listicles are helpful content that is short, sweet and easily digested, generally numbered with subheads.
For example, I could write about the top 5 things to love and hate about drones. I love drones because they definitely help to market my listings in Sacramento. I get aerial views not otherwise available unless I were flying overhead myself in a helicopter and clutching a puke bag. The photos show geography surrounding my listing, including whether the roof needs to be replaced. Obviously, I would not include drone photography if the home backed up to a school or a commercial building.
I also have this vision in my brain of the future of drones, when Amazon and Pizza Hut begin employing drones, and how they might fill the airspace over your house, buzzing about like annoying dune buggies on the beach. Bite my shiny metal ass, you’ll probably mutter as you stare up at the skies in amazement. Drones can be irritating.
It would be nice, though, if drones could carry your packages without the packaging. Because we order so much stuff online nowadays, the recycling centers have got to be bulging due to all of this excess cardboard and packaging materials. Right now we have 9 boxes sitting on the floor at our living room entrance, delivered by UPS from a pet food supplier. Trying to find time today to unpack those boxes will prove as difficult as trying to find space in our recycling can for the waste packaging.
Much as I moan, you’ve got to agree, though that a guy who writes I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song; I just can’t remember who to send it to, surely should win the prize for Top 10 Stupid Song Lyrics. Plus, if I had a drone handy, I could have it sent over to south Sacramento yesterday to verify my listing appointment with certain Sacramento home sellers. Instead, I tossed my jeans, dressed up and prepared a listing package for a seller who couldn’t even open the door wide enough, as I stood on her front steps juggling a Supra iBox, my camera equipment and her listing paperwork, to properly explain over the noise of her barking dogs why the appointment was canceled and she forgot to mention it.
I can count with 2 fingers, not the peace sign, mind you, but the poke-in-the-eyes two fingers, how many times that has ever happened in my Sacramento real estate career. Those sellers don’t realize it, but they need me more than I need them. This woman today is on her own.