Jane Powell, the author, not the actress!

I am on my way back from the Grove Park Arts and Crafts Conference which takes place in Asheville, North Carolina every February. This year was the twenty-fifth anniversary of the conference. We often joke that the Arts and Crafts Revival has lasted longer than the original movement. When the first conference took place in 1988, the revival was still in its infancy, although the seminal Arts and Crafts exhibition at Princeton in 1972 is believed to have sparked the revival, it was not until The Art That Is Life exhibition in Boston in 1987 that it began to take off nationally.

I bought my first bungalow in 1987. I  already knew about the Arts and Crafts Movement. I knew who William Morris was. I knew enough that shortly after buying the bungalow I traveled to Pasadena to visit The Gamble House. I also immediately took out a subscription to Old House Journal, and bought a copy of Rehab Right, a book about how not to mess up your old house, published by the city of Oakland in the 1970s before they became completely enamored of tearing down old buildings in the name of “smart growth” and “density near transit” and the other forms of sheep’s clothing used by rapacious developers and embraced by planners who all claimed to have read Jane Jacobs but apparently hadn’t absorbed much. Ah, I do love a run-on sentence, and the advantage (for me) of a blog is that there is no editor to do away with it. For you the reader that might be viewed as a disadvantage…

Anyway, that was the beginning of my Arts and Crafts adventure. In 1988 I joined the Craftsman Homeowners Club that had been set up by Kitty Turgeon and Robert Rust in East Aurora, home of the Roycrofters. The first Arts and Crafts Conference in Asheville was touted in their newsletter, but since I still had my display job at Macy’s I couldn’t go. The first year I did attend was 1994. By that time the first bungalow had been fixed up and sold, and I was in house #2, an architect-designed Prairie house which I was to lose later that year in a divorce. So the first conference was bittersweet for me.

By that time I knew some of the East Bay Arts and Crafts people, since I was asked to join the committee for the 1993 Arts and Crafts House Tour being put on by Berkeley Architectural Heritage. I freely admit that I guilt-tripped the house selection committee into including my house on the tour, saying it would mean so much to me since I was going to lose it in the divorce. I guess they forgave me because we have all remained friends.

So I went to the conference at least knowing a few people. Nonetheless, I was intimidated. But I was also hooked. Since then the conference has become an important yearly event. I have gone even when ill. I went in the middle of chemotherapy, in spite of everyone advising against it. One year I had food poisoning, and spent most of it in my hotel room. But I keep going back.

When I was first contemplating writing Bungalow Kitchens, one day I had the horrifying thought that if the book was published and successful, I might be asked to speak at Grove Park. Having, as most people do, a terrible fear of public speaking, I nearly gave up on the book right then. (As it turned out, I discovered I actually enjoy public speaking, but that’s topic for another time.) As of now, I’ve spoken there twice, although never about kitchens.

It’s exhausting and intense, but I’ve met such wonderful people there. Contacts made at Grove Park led me to bungalows to photograph for the books, vendors to put in the Resources, and many new friends, who are now old friends. This year both friends and strangers signed letters to GMAC asking them to modify my mortgage- I now have over 100 letters. Arts and Crafts people are absolutely the best.

The benefit succeeded beyond my wildest dreams! We had over 300 people- the line to get in stretched down the driveway. There were people I hadn't seen in twenty years- people I went to high school with, former neighbors, current neighbors, clients, and many people I didn't know, who had seen the story in the SF Chronicle or the Oakland Tribune, or had gotten a forwarded email from somebody, as the whole thing kind of went viral. A good time was had by all. The silent auction was a huge success, and we also had a "Buy It Now" table of less expensive items, and most of those were purchased. I sold quite a few books, including two Linoleum books, which always makes me happy(let's just say the Linoleum book has a very narrow audience...). We're still counting the money, but it was way more than I even thought possible.

I want to thank everyone who came, everyone who donated, everyone who helped out- I have the most awesome, amazing friends that anyone could ask for.  One of the hardest things about the whole fraudclosure/mortgage mess is that you feel very alone, even though you know millions of other people are going through the same thing. The banks and the media have tried very hard to demonize homeowners in order to deflect blame from themselves- we are supposed to feel ashamed of our inability to pay our debts. ( see comment on previous blog entry- nothing like kicking people when they're down)

By the way,  the attorneys general settlement announced last week- complete bullshit. A get-out-of jail-free card for the banks. No one goes to jail, they get almost total immunity from prosecution, maybe a select few homeowners get help (the settlement doesn't apply to loans owned by Fannie Mae or Freddie Mac, which are the majority of loans). The terms haven't even been announced, so basically they've signed on to a concept, not an actual settlement. Thanks for selling us out, Kamala Harris.

Individual thank-you notes will be going out later- possibly not until I get back from the Arts and Crafts Conference next week. Right now I'm completely exhausted.

The benefit this Sunday is shaping up to be an awesome party. We got a donation of excellent wine, there will be wonderful food, and my friend Terry will be serving up vodka martinis in the "speakeasy" we're setting up behind the fireplace. There were so many silent auction donations we had to start saying no more, and we're going to have a raffle for some of the more amusing items.

The response has been more than I could have hoped for- after the article in the San Francisco Chronicle (http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=%2Fc%2Fa%2F2012%2F02%2F02%2FBU0U1MUBK4.DTL&)came out last Thursday, I have been receiving donations every single day. Not only the money, but also the words of encouragement have been very touching. If you are one of the many who sent money, thank you from the bottom of my heart!

I'm keeping this short because the floor in the green bedroom still isn't done, and that's where we're putting the Silent Auction stuff, so I gotta keep sanding! Of course there's always time for linoleum:

_ I am normally a woman of impeccable taste. My 1905 home is decorated in a style befitting its craftsman architecture. I own many objects that are beautiful and well-made. But all this tastefulness has a dark side, as I also harbor a fondness for objects that are surpassingly tacky. I believe my mother is to blame for this. When I was a child, she and her three best friends would get together for their birthdays, and vie with each other for who could come up with the worst gift. The gifts received by my mother that particularly stand out in my memory included a gold painted plaster bust of Charles Lindbergh, a ceramic tree trunk lamp with squirrels hanging on it, and a crocheted Mason jar cover with a ruffle. From these parties also came the rule I still follow regarding the acquisition of tacky objects- they must be cheap. Back in the 1960s the limit was a dollar, eventually raised to five dollars to allow for inflation. Even now, I won’t pay more than twenty bucks, no matter how worthy the item. Another rule is either I or a friend must actually go to the place the souvenir is from- no buying over the internet or picking them up at yard sales.

 

Obviously I can and do indulge this passion for tawdriness around my home town, but it’s much more fun to buy tacky souvenirs while traveling. The gift shop full of local crafts and food products is not where you’ll find me- I look for the cheesiest, neon-lit,  tasteless T-shirts-in-the-window store I can find. Lately, however, it seems that wherever I go, tasteful souvenirs have taken over. I have to search harder for something appropriately awful, because it can’t just be any old tasteless souvenir, it can’t simply be hideous- it has to be amusingly hideous.

 

I started with snow globes. Not the nice glass ones on a wooden pedestal, but the cheap plastic ones- clear on the front, blue on the back, with some local landmark molded out of plastic inside, highlighted with badly executed hand painting. It was important that it have the name of the place or the attraction on it, and the more snow inside the better. Bonus points were awarded for offbeat shapes (treasure chests, bottles, the belly of a plastic alligator), or if a perpetual calendar was built into the base. But snow globes had a few problems as a souvenir: sometimes they leaked in the luggage, and if it was an extended trip and more than a few had been purchased, they began to add a little too much weight. And now they have been banned from carry-on luggage by the TSA. The final straw came when snow globe manufacturers switched from actual three-dimensional molded scenes inside the domes, to simply printing the scene on a flat piece of plastic. I demand a little more effort than that. Plus there was a trend toward glitter instead of snow- not that glitter is always wrong- in a snow dome from Las Vegas or Graceland it might be highly appropriate.

 

Another thing I like to buy is postcards, a popular souvenir for more than a hundred years. It used to be easy to find “Greetings from (name of place)”, the ever-popular jackalope, the fur-bearing trout, and of course, the giant fruits and vegetables on the back of a semi-truck or railroad car. But I always liked postcards with photos of things that weren’t particularly scenic: a freeway interchange, a factory, a shopping mall. One of my prized postcards features a BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit ) train silhouetted against a sunset. These days, perusing a postcard rack for something tacky is discouraging, since they all seem to be filled with beautiful, tasteful photos of the local scenery with nary a jackalope in sight. Occasionally a tacky one still pops up- in Arizona it’s usually possible to find some version of “toppled saguaro squashes car”, and in many places there is some version of a falling-down shack labeled “(name of place) Vacation Home.” Still, the spread of tastefulness can be discouraging.

 

Then I discovered floating pens, also known as “floaties”, “tilt pens”, or their official name, “floating-action pens.” This is a ballpoint pen in which the top half of the barrel is clear and filled with mineral oil. A background scene is printed inside the barrel, and a piece of plastic film with something else printed on it “floats” in front of the scene, and moves as the barrel is tilted. This allows, for instance, a sailboat to move across a lake, or, in a pen I bought in Mermphis, the disembodied head of Elvis to cross in front of the gates of Graceland. I consider the floating pen to be the perfect souvenir, as they fit easily in a purse or pocket, weigh almost nothing, cost approximately three to four dollars worldwide, plus you can actually use them, while most souvenirs just sit and look decorative. I’ve actually been known, when booking a flight, to take the one with a layover in an airport I haven’t been through before, just in the hope of finding a new pen. Sick, isn’t it? All proper floating pens are made by the Eskesen company of Denmark. Peder Eskesen, a Danish baker, first perfected a way to seal the barrels in 1946. The pen components are made in their factory in St. Merlose, Denmark, then parceled out to be assembled at home by villagers. Their earliest pens tended to feature women or men who appeared to be wearing bathing suits, until the pen was tilted to reveal their nakedness. They eventually branched out, and now it is possible to have custom pens made for yourself or your company, provided you are willing to order the minimum amount of 550 pens. In the last few years, knock-off floating pens made in Hong Kong or Italy, identified by their fat plastic barrels (Eskesen pens are generally narrow), have made inroads into Eskesen’s market share. These pens are garbage and tend to leak, but more and more souvenir outlets seem to be buying them, an unfortunate turn of events. Still, over the last twenty five years, I have managed to amass quite a collection of Eskesen pens. Someone once asked me where I got refills for the pens when the ink ran dry- I had never even considered the question. When one runs dry, I put it away and get out another one. I’m pretty sure I won’t run out of ink in my lifetime.

 

My most prized floating pens include one from Berkeley Systems, featuring the famous “flying toaster” from their screensaver, and one from Chicken Boy, once a fried chicken delivery service, whose mascot was a man with the head of a chicken, and later the name of a very fine catalog company in Los Angeles, sadly no longer in business.

 

Now it is true that I have also returned home with such fine tacky souvenirs as jewelry made from lacquered moose turds, jumping and squeaking rubber lobsters, and salt-and-pepper shakers in the shape of Mount St. Helens (they sit on top of each other, and when you lift off the salt the pepper is the shape of the volcano after the eruption). But the piece-de-resistance of my collection is a shrine from Paris. It’s a lavender metallic clamshell outlined with multi-colored Christmas lights. The base contains a drawer. The clamshell contains, not the crucifix or Virgin Mary that would be appropriate to a shrine (though these were available), but instead, a gold plastic Eiffel Tower. I’m unclear what sort of relic of the Eiffel Tower one is supposed to put in the drawer. Still, I consider it the best $13 I ever spent.

 

It’s not as though it isn’t still possible to find tacky souvenirs. I simply worry about the spread of tastefulness into an area of life where tastefulness isn’t warranted. Therefore, I urge everyone to buy tacky souvenirs wherever you find them, because if you don’t, they may not be reordered.

 

 

 

I've made a separate page for the February 12th benefit with a photo of the house and the invitation. And we have a sub-page for the Silent Auction! (Click on Save the Bunga-Mansion Benefit above and the Silent Auction page will drop down.) Only a few of the items are listed so far, but more donations are showing up every day. In addition to the items shown, we have four Posters from Bradbury and Bradbury Art Wallpaper, THREE design consults (one from yours truly, one from Debey Zito of Debey Zito Furniture and Design, and one from Michelle Nelson (some of her design work is featured in my article in the current Old House Journal: http://www.oldhouseonline.com/fireplace-ideas-for-bungalows/) Keep checking back as new auction items will be posted daily.

There should be an article in the San Francisco Chronicle later this week. Also, if you missed it, the article from Sunday's Oakland Tribune: http://www.insidebayarea.com/oakland-tribune/ci_19791304

Also, if you plan to attend the benefit, please RSVP. I know it's annoying, but we'd like to have a vague idea of how much food and drink we might need.

The temporary modification papers arrived on Friday. It started out, "As your loan servicer, we are committed to working with you to help make your payment more affordable." Translation: " We don't give a damn about you but we need some good PR." The second paragraph goes on to say, "At this point, however, it is important for you to understand that you have not yet met all of the qualifications for a Permanent Modification. In order to qualify, you must first comply with the provisions of this Trial Period Plan. We will then evaluate your qualifications for a Permanent Modification." Translation: "You're obviously a deadbeat, and we're going to see if you can pay on time for three months, even though you'd been making the real payment on time from 2006 until quite recently. Besides, it will give us time to get the foreclosure ready to switch into high gear when we eventually deny you the Permanent Modification, which we will do, based on the fact that a) you don't make enough money, or b) you make too much money, or c) whatever other reason we can come up with."

So the Trial Period payment will be $1493.91. This includes an impound for taxes and insurance, because impound accounts are a profit center for the servicer, as they get the use of your money for most of the year before they have to pay the property taxes or the insurance. And also, you know, us deadbeats can't be trusted to pay our own taxes. But whatever. It's certainly more do-able than $2600, which is the real payment. Of course, when eventually they deny the Permanent Modification, as I fully expect they will, they will immediately send a bill for the difference, plus an previous arrears, late fees, and any other fees they can think to tack on (The Annoying Deadbeat Fee? The How Dare You Call Us On The Phone Fee?), which will all be due and payable immediately. Since few people are able to pay all this at once, or they wouldn't need a freaking modification, they can then go on with the foreclosure they've wanted to do all along.

But I will play their little game. And save money for a lawyer.

Thanks to all who have sent donations- the response has been awesome. We're getting a lot of excellent donations for the silent auction, and hope to have that page up soon, as well as a list of supporters. It's going to be a very excellent party.

Also, the press coverage begins: http://www.insidebayarea.com/oakland-tribune/ci_19791304

_I know my house is excessive. Even though I call it the bunga-mansion, I’m not sure it really qualifies as a mansion. But it is a very large house (3800 square feet). Clearly when Jesse Matteson built it, he was part of the 1%. The Matteson’s had servants (how many is unknown)- they were housed next door in a house he had built in 1903, on the other side of the tennis court. Finding out about this cleared up a question I had when I first bought the house- why was there no maid’s room or other servant quarters in the house? The Matteson’s were clearly part of the upper social strata in Oakland- their garage-warming party in 1906 was written up in elaborate detail in the society pages of the Oakland Tribune.

I could still use servants- or some kind of paid help. Even after being subdivided, the lot is still 10,000 square feet, and a gardener would be extremely useful. Right now all the fruit trees need to be pruned, but it’s a choice between that and working on the floor in the green bedroom, or finishing the kitchen, or replacing another part of the roof, or replacing the rotted wall at the front of the porch, or fixing the slant of the back porch so that water drains better, or putting stain on the new shingles on the back porch, or epoxying some rafter tails, or fixing the gutters, replacing the non-matching downspouts, painting the ceiling in my bedroom (it’s sky blue- I have woken up every morning for nearly ten years and thought, “I hate that ceiling.”), etc., etc.

A cook would be nice too. I don’t get home from work until after seven, and by the time I fix something to eat it’s often nearly eight. Like all single people my dinners tend to the “chicken breast and a salad” school of cooking. Sometimes I just don’t have the energy and end up eating a bowl of cereal.

I do have a housecleaner. Don’t start throwing mental tomatoes- yes, I am financially desperate, but she only comes for four hours every other week, and it’s the only thing keeping me from killing my housemates, because they are all messy. I’ve become a slob too, more from stress and lack of time, because actually I really can’t stand clutter.

An administrative assistant would be nice, too. Someone to do my Quickbooks data entry, answer my e-mail, do filing, keep track of where the hell I’m supposed to be at any given time- that would be awesome.

The 1% have no idea how easy their lives really are. It makes me furious when some overpaid hedge fundie starts talking about how hard he works and how hard it is to make ends meet on $500,000 a year.

So yeah, as some troll commented on an earlier post, I’m just sitting around in my mansion eating bon-bons and whining about how hard my life is. I don’t even like bon-bons. Hell, I don’t even know what bon-bons are.

Every time GMAC tells me they have all the paperwork they need, I don't believe them, but I can never get them to cop to it. Instead, two or three days later I get a letter asking for something else. The latest they wanted was IRS Form 4506T- this allows them to order  copies of my tax returns. I did, of course, send them a tax return in the original packet, but clearly I must have cooked the numbers on that one, conspiring with my tax preparer to do so. (Well, she is my sister.) Anyway, I called them today to make sure they received the 4506T, and to ask if they needed anything else. "The application is complete," said the GMAC rep (still not the mysterious and elusive Nicole Nesby). "That's what you told me on January 4th, yet two days later I got a letter asking for the 4506T, as well as for the three separate months of Profit and Loss statements, which I had already sent," I replied. More checking. She comes back to the phone, says, "You're scheduled to start a temporary modification on February 2nd." "What?!!" I said, "No one has said anything to me about a temporary modification."  So it turns out that once again they sent a letter instead of calling, and it was mailed last Friday, thus it is not here, due to the MLK holiday.

Don't get excited- this is all part of the game. The idea behind HAMP (Home Affordable Mortgage Program) is that if you faithfully paid the temporary payment for three months, you would then get a permanent modification. Except it's not really permanent, it only lasts five years, and I'm not at all sure that anyone really knows what happens at the end of that time. That was the theory- here is the reality. You pay the reduced payment for three months, or six months, or a year, or however long the servicer wants to dick you around, and then, at the end of that time, they announce that you don't qualify for the permanent mod, and by the way, here's a bill for all of your previous arrears, plus the difference between the modified payment and the original payment, and that totals, oh, twenty thousand dollars or so, and it's all now due and payable in a lump sum. Oh, you can't pay it? Well, then we'll just have to start foreclosure proceedings, which is what we wanted to do all along, because seriously, the thousand dollars we get from Treasury for doing a modification doesn't even cover the coffee we have to give our employees to put up with all you deadbeat homeowners whining. The fees from foreclosure are at least twenty times that, maybe more. Everybody gets screwed in a foreclosure except us- the homeowner, the neighborhood, the city, the county (well, we were already screwing them out of billions with the Mortgage Electronic Registration System- we just have to go on pretending it's a big proprietary database that is very complex, in order to cover up the reality that it's just a giant Excel spreadsheet that no one is checking for accuracy).

Needless to say, the benefit is still on. Response has been awesome so far. I am trying to get a page up listing the auction items, but it may be a few days, since tomorrow I'm having a tooth extracted, and I'm thinking I won't be good for much after that. There are some who think I'm not good for much anyway, but those people are not my friends. My friends, in fact, are totally awesome.

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Help noted author/community and preservation activist Jane Powell save her landmark home from the Bank!

Our friend, Jane Powell, needs your help. She’s behind the 8-ball--a chronic and expensive disease, a major fixer for a house, and underwater with a huge mortgage with out-of-reach monthly payments, that the bank refuses to modify. But if we all pitch in, we CAN make a difference!

Jane Powell is probably best known for her informative, witty, and passionate writing about restoration and renovation--the big picture philosophy behind preserving historic bungalows and buildings of merit in general, combined with nuts and bolts expertise.

Her best-known books include Bungalow Kitchens and Bungalow Bathrooms, in addition to countless articles for The Old House Journal, American Bungalow and other publications. Jane has given lectures around the country and actively participated in preservation efforts locally, including serving as President of Oakland Heritage Alliance.

All the while, Jane has been battling lymphoma, pitted against the well-documented problems of the expensive, difficult health care system. Her part-time job qualifies her for coverage by an HMO, but Jane can’t afford many of the additional out-of-pocket medical expenses. 

She acquired Sunset House in 2002. This one-of-a kind Arts & Crafts treasure from 1905 came with years of deferred maintenance. Jane succeeded in getting Mills Act protection for the house (and some property tax relief), but she’s obligated to make ongoing, expensive repairs.

Jane has been trying, with all of her writing and persuasive ability, to get a loan modification, even lobbying representatives of GMAC, the lender, in person in Washngton, D.C. But the bank just demands more paperwork, and stalls, as Jane falls behind in her payments....

Keep Jane Powell and Sunset House together! It’s tragic that so many people have been separated from their homes by heartless banks and lenders--let’s make a difference on this one! Here’s how you can help:

ATTEND: A fabulous event at the “Sunset House” Feb. 12, Sunday, 2-5 p.m. This house was featured on the 1996 Arts & Crafts House Tour sponsored by Oakland Heritage Alliance and the Berkeley Architectural Heritage Association, built by architect/contractor Jesse Matteson for his own family. Sunset House was the cover story of the Nov. 2006 American Bungalow magazine.

Hosted bar, good food. Silent auction with objets d’art, consults, autographed books, massages, and fine collectibles. Check out the Restoration Comedy section of Jane’s blog, JanePowell.org, for the latest auction items. Cash, checks, or credit cards accepted.

Live entertainment: Sharon Knight (Celtic-inspired music--to hear a sample of their music & for more info, go to: http://sharonknight.net/music-neofolk-romantique.html), and other performers.Surprise guests.

Singles $25/couples $40 (no one turned away.) Sunset House, 2708 Sunset Ave., is east of Fruitvale Ave., at Lynde and 27th.

MAKE A CALL OR WRITE: Jane has been involved in negotiations (fruitless so far) with her lender, GMAC Mortgage.  Tell the bank to modify her mortgage to reflect the true value of the house and reduce her huge, and unaffordable, monthly payments.

GMAC contact info: Nicole Nesby ("relationship manager")                             1-877-928-4622 (option 5, then ext. 236-8552)                                                                1- 866-709-4744 (fax)                             
P.O. Box 780                            
3451 Hammond Avenue                            
Waterloo, IA 50704-0780

GMAC's CEO: Michael A. Carpenter      
200 Renaissance Dr.     
Detroit, Mich. 48265

GMAC Public Relations--ALLY
Gina Proia, VP/Chief Communications Officer
(646) 781-2692

MAKE A CONTRIBUTION: Contributions to help Jane with her mortgage can be sent directly to her at 2708 Sunset Ave., Oakland, Ca. 94601. Or click on the DONATE button to your right.

TELL YOUR FRIENDS/ASK FOR ENDORSEMENTS/LEND YOUR NAME: Oakland Councilperson Nancy Nadel; Becky and Michael O’Malley, Berkeley Daily Planet Editor and Publisher, and Lesley Emmington, Save Strawberry Canyon, are early supporters of the ad hoc Friends of Jane Powell group. Sign on!

For more information, and to RSVP, Robert Brokl/Alfred Crofts, (510) 655-3841, broklcrofts@earthlink.net.

Press contact: Ralph Kanz, (510) 535-9868, rkanz@sonic.net

Finishing the floor in the green bedroom has become critical, since I can't rent it in its current state, so tonight when I got home from work I went up and put another coat of shellac on it, making three coats so far.  It's actually not as orange as it looks in the picture, but it is blotchy. I have looked for some explanation of why Douglas fir gets blotchy when you sand it, but so far that remains a mystery. In any case, I think of it as patina.
The date for the house benefit has been decided- it will be Sunday, February 12th from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. There will be music, food and drink, tours of the house, and a silent auction. Admission will be $25 per person or $40 for couples, but no one will be turned away. The official announcement will be posted here soon.