Our World of Supers

Our life may have been influenced in our youth by a teacher, certainly by our Mother and Father and in our adult years definitely by our spouse.

 Permit me to introduce today a person that has conditioned the quality of our life possibly without our realizing it. That person, under various names, but in the same capacity, has been and is a determining factor in our daily well being. That is the famous “Super” of apartment buildings up north, also known in our Florida surroundings as the “Property Manager” .

When I came to this country in 1954, I settled in New York City around Brooklyn College. In our area (Nostrand and Avenue I), the Italians were up north along Flatbush Avenue; the Jewish crowd occupied the territory along Eastern Parkway all the way south to the Bay.

The Super in our building was a small wiry man from Scotland who liked the bottle. He had seen better days. He took an immediate liking to me, a compatriot from Overthere.

Every month as I came down to pay my rent, he literally pulled me inside his place for a friendly drinking session. There, he would reminisce about his days of glory in the Old Country. After two glasses of Port (minimum requirement), I managed to escape, leaving him to finish his bottle in his own quiet delusive remembrance of his lost splendor.

My unsolicited friendship eventually paid off. Some problem developed with another young neighboring couple. I mentioned it to my Scottish friend. He said, “Have no fear, Mr. Gilly.” (On the Continent, you do not call people by their first name unless you are related). “ I will take care of it.” He apparently did because within a week that couple had moved out.

This anecdote demonstrates the influence that a Super or a PM (Property Manager) can have on the quality of your life.

Years later, we eventually graduated to our own house in the Washington DC suburbs. No Condo Manager there to contend with. However, we eventually bought a Studio in an Ocean Front Condo in Rehoboth Beach. It was just two hours away, except on those weekends when fifty thousand motorists wanted to cross the Chesapeake Bay bridge at the same time to get there.

After a few months, the nice woman directing the Condo operations was replaced by Fred, the professional, the ultimate and consummate man for the job.

 Fred was a pro. He knew that he had to flatter the Board members and lick their boots. He also had to please the important owners (mainly big time lawyers and lobbyists) by keeping their ownership worry free, regardless of the expense, a costly proposition. He did just that.

Fred always had a deal to save us money provided we paid the high price. In general, he acted as if he were indispensable, irreplaceable and a hero.

Year after year, Fred took us through the classic sequence of events. First, the practically new roof developed some leaks. Fix them? Certainly not. Fred had a deal for a complete new roof, very expensive, but he could get a special price on it, a fantastic saving. After that, we repainted the building, not really needed but a deal you could not refuse. Of course, the parking lot had to be resurfaced to look pretty. A special expensive covering was used but Fred again had a deal. The swimming pool was next. It cost us plenty but we saved a lot!

At his request, Fred’s apartment in the back was given an ocean view by tunneling though the sauna, using its space and part of the front lobby. Another time, overnight, the building acquired twenty washing machines and dryers, again a super deal. To justify the expense, we were told the funds used to create our own private Laundromat was a year-end surplus, that had to be spent to avoid taxes on it. 

Fred’s day of glory culminated at the Annual Owners Meeting when he would give his report. There, he could describe how, single handedly, he had saved our building at the peril of his life the previous winter by closing the open windows and doors during a storm. It was better than watching the Titanic movie. A bonus and a substantial salary increase were immediately approved by acclamation by the lawyers and lobbyists from Washington in the audience.

Today, here in my Florida Condo, some people make decisions over which we have little control. They condition our life and our well being. We are subject to the goodwill of the Front Office for the services we may need. If our status with management is favorable, good reasons are found to do what we suggest. Otherwise, we are cited strict regulations that prevent the same thing. Therefore, it behooves us to be in good terms with the authorities.

As I have been urging you all these years, whatever your status may be, keep smiling. You may eventually be granted what you wish.

SMILE

                                   Jacques M Gilly

Published April 2001 in Condo newspaper