A local real estate agent, a very successful one who has been around longer than we’ve lived in Vancouver (28 years), recently opened a storefront on my stomping grounds. There is a placard in front of this store that, when I first espied it, caught my attention immediately. It bothers me every time I pass it by, which is frequently, because there is a blaring grammatical error in the signage. I am pretty compulsive that way, not to mention just a little bit bitchy. Is it better if I admit that this agent does not count me among his fans because of oft-told tales in the ‘hood regarding his (allegedly) predatory practices? I have witnessed at least one such practice firsthand: he sent a letter around the neighborhood that was an invitation to panic for older folks in single-family dwellings, beginning as it did with “this is a warning letter” and going on to describe how they’d lose equity in their home if they didn’t sell their home right now! I was livid. Like my feelings for Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest, I’m not one of his fans.

Continue reading “Word on the Street (From the Comma Folk)”