Photos By John Hoff
It's very enlightening to go inside a house you've only seen from the outside for months, years, even decades. I always pictured 416 31st Ave. N. as filled with garbage and ripped apart inside. It wasn't. In fact...
Somebody had done a lot of work. It wasn't very good work, half the time, but the place had certainly been CLEANED.
Some names had been written on the hardwood doors, but at least the graffiti was somewhat RESTRAINED. There were very few actual traces left of previous residents. One exception was on the top shelf of a knocked-together closet; this "Kung-Fu Panda" figure and some other articles. Sad.
Before...After...No, Wait, Just "Before"
In the second photo, an extremely bad caulking job. Jeanie Hoholik mentioned the late night infomercial with the super-dooper caulking device which, surely, no handyman can live without. How much would you PAY for something like that?! Blah blah blah.
Yes, I had seen the infomercial, too. Jeanie said the bathtub looked like the "bad caulking example" from the infomercial. True enough, but a much higher standard is required to be a "Stupid North Minneapolis Home Repair." If we start letting in bad caulking jobs, what comes next? Poor choices in cupboard contact paper? See, it's just a slippery stupid slope.
Fall Of The House Of 416
In the next photo, here's something you see in almost every former rental in North Minneapolis: evidence of a bedroom door secured with a PADLOCK, as evidenced by the remainder of a portion of the hasp.
I figure they started out by changing the lock...but at some point, civilization devolved, like during the Middle Ages after the fall of the Roman Empire, and knowledge of replacing locking doorknobs was lost...so the inhabitants reverted to using hasps and padlocks. At some point, savage barbarian hordes apparently made off with the doors themselves, and those who were left to pick up the pieces used, one supposes, blankets in the doorway for privacy.
In the last photo, Jennifer The Flipper taught me something about carpet. There is apparently some cheap stuff known as "indoor/outdoor carpet," and that's what was used throughout the house. Jennifer told me it was...what did she say? Sixty-nine cents a foot? A yard? Or did she say a buck sixty-nine?
Well, it was cheap, that much I remember. And there were pennies on the carpet, clearly tossed there recently. I've documented, before, this superstition among real estate agents, click here.
Knock A Zero Off And You've Got A Deal
There was nothing about this house which would make it worth $150,000. My companions were seriously speculating about how the price must contain an extra, accidental zero. If not, the price was just...humorous.
In the last few decades, there has been a lot of unhappiness in this house, and because of this house. It's hard not to feel like unhappiness has seeped into the very walls, somehow. But it was also rather roomy, and there was some nice woodwork. (Not pictured)
I could see how this house would make a fine home, and right next to the wonderful Polish lady's amazing gardening efforts, in the very heart of the Eco Village. Hopefully, a homeowner will buy it, and not a slumlord. Because if a slumlord buys it, well, we'll be all over him, making life hellish, even by slumlord standards.