Originally Posted by Bearlead:
She took the bait....
Ah, but did you reel her in??!! Obviously you're still alive, so I'm guessing this ends very well! "Top Gun" indeed! 
Scott,
i think your wife may let you live providing no trains are allowed on the new property. You have the house, but no trains. Lol.
I hear Scott's wife had metal detectors installed at all the entry points to monitor train movement!
Actually it is Jophie writing this. Bear is interred right next to Jimmy Hoffa! I'm hiding behind corpus delicti!
SweetRevengeJophie
This is better than a Saturday morning serial! (a little before my time, but have seen a few on video)
I'm rivited to my seat in anticipation of the next chapter in this grand epic... 
Andy
Jim,
Scott is loving this thread. He's planning on using it with his wife next time she catches him smuggling a new acquisition into the basement, hoping that the sheer magnitude of my transgression, by comparison, will get him off the hook!
ThisCan'tEndWellBear
Chris,
That would be the ultimate irony....the magnificent basement but with no trains allowed on the premises, defeating the whole ulterior purpose of the exercise in the first place!
DrowningInIronyBear
Brian,
"She took the bait!"
"But did you reel her in??!!"
Stay tuned for the next installment, the plot thickens....
SuspenseBear
MichMike,
How perceptive of you! Jophie is indeed a nickname for Josephine. It was her late father's pet name for her when she was a little girl. She's had a lot of aliases over the years, changing them somewhat like some women change their hair color: Joan, Jo, Josie, Marie (religious fervor in her teens), Laura (actual middle name on birth certificate that she never knew about until she applied for her first passport in 1972!), Gammie (what our kids, grandkids and great grandkids call her)
GappieBear
Bear Congratulations!
I've never seen a post of yours that didn't include a new possession. I'm starting to look in Boulder county, hopefully I'll see your layout someday.
I'm old enough to have attended those Saturday matinee serials. This may be as bad as the "Perils of Pauline". They ran for 12 weeks.
.....
Dennis
Bear,
We have known each other for a long time. Glad to see your back and still have your sense of humor after such a long and protracted real estate ordeal, however,
CUT TO THE CHASE!!!
Paul Edgar
Bear,
I think of other scenarios you may be been hit with assuming you moved into the house. After reading this story, I can picture what could have happened if I were in your shoes. Not sure what is worse buying the house without her knowledge or making the decorating decision with out her input. I can see potential project where you could have change the color of the tile since you picked the wrong shade. Or resetting the hight of cabinets in the kitchen. I would have paid for this dearly for years.
I am curious to know if you got house and how did your decision on decorating go with the wife. If you did not get the house, then the scenario above takes care of itself.
Thanks for sharing.
curiousabouttheendingBear
Chris
I'm guessing that Bear is bringing a new wife to York next week, wants to introduce her to us in person, and that's why he's dragging it out. Of course, if Bear has a new wife, then he probably doesn't have any money and can't get to York.
But it is fun. Keep it going a couple of days more Bear. Keep us guessing.
Gerry
Marker,
I'm not sure I understand your point about my posts and "new possessions", I assume you mean those pesky train items that somehow manage to insinuate themselves into my basement? Come to think of it, I think I even have some past York purchases squirreled away in Pat and Jean Marinari's basement in PA!
If you're serious about "starting to look in Boulder County", I know a helluva good Realtor who knows Boulder County like the back of his hand!
RealtorBear
Dennis,
As a fellow "geezer", I'm old enough to remember those Saturday matinee serials too. But my favorite was always the endless war between Superman and his sexy nemesis, The Spider Lady! "The Perils of Pauline" paled by comparison.
I think the price of a matinee ticket at the Rose Theater in Colfax, Washington in 1950 was a dime a kid! Oh for those days again. Go to the matinee then go to Jimmy Ebbert's basement to run his Lionel trains!
SuperBear
Dear Past President Paul,
I recall that you and Liz have an interesting real estate tale to tell as well. How many guys are lucky enough to meet and marry a fellow train nut who loves York and toy trains so much that she is willing to build a retirement home in York just to be close to the biannual action?! You're a lucky guy, Paul!
Is Liz reading the saga with you? I think I know her well enough to predict her reaction to my matrimonial foolhardiness!
And finally, "Cut to the Chase!" Never! I had to suffer through this day and night for a year and a half, and relatively mercifully, you can churn through it in but a few days! I'm letting you off easy, buddy. The actual closing chapter is in reality coming to a close this afternoon at 4:30 MDT, but you'll have to make some popcorn and stay tuned a little longer to see if this really did end as badly as you had hoped!!
CliffHangerBear
Chris,
See, you've confirmed for me the primary reason I am sharing this tale of woe with you. As a typical train goober searching for the ultimate basement (attic, garage bay, outbuilding, industrial headquarters ala Tony Lash, wife's business basement ala Bob Weaver, etc.) in which to build your dream layout, you've either been in my shoes, or will one day be! This is a cautionary tale for all of us, so beware....listen and learn from other people's mistakes and sometimes tragic travails!
SadderButWiserBear
Brother Gerry,
So, there you go again, reveling in the business my irrational train addiction can produce for you and your fellow practitioners of the law! Sorry to disappoint you, Jophie is still on board, no legal billings from that aspect of the story to report, at least not yet! But wait until she figures out that the "Brute" and matching cars she thinks I picked up for a song at a garage sale were not really made in 1937! **** hath no fury....! As I said to Erol yesterday, "Et tu, Brute?!"
ShakespearianTragedyBear
Next Installment In the Saga of Bear's Harrowing Adventure in Geezerland....
Off-screen announcer: "When we left Bear last week, Jophie had just 'taken the bait', agreeing to "keep an open mind" and reconsider her adamant opposition to moving across town to the "active geezer" community where, unbeknownst to her, Bear had already secretly built himself a new basement train layout room, but with a nice new house on top of it for her....He didn't have loan approval yet, and the process was getting more complicated and messy with every week that passed....but everyone in the family and quite a few close friends knew about Bear's secret, and if he didn't tell Jophie pretty soon, somebody might let the cat out of the bag with disastrous consequences for all concerned. Better to break the news to her himself rather than having a slip of the lip from someone else expose his perfidy to her! The literal moment of truth was upon him and there was no turning back now...."
So, on the 2nd of January, as agreed, I took her to lunch at a golf course clubhouse restaurant not far from the new house. It was a gorgeous, bright blue-sky day and unseasonably warm for the dead of winter. Jophie was enjoying herself. Usually eating out was a family affair with kids, grandkids, and great grandkids in attendance, so a dining out "date" for just the two of us was an unusual treat. For her, I put on a good front of looking relaxed, but inside my stomach had been churning for days. I had barely slept or eaten in the previous three days. Yet all I could do was poke at my food.
After lunch, we drove the short distance to the builder's model home "sales village". My first hurdle was to get her through the sales office without someone there spilling the beans. In order to trap potential buyers, most corporate builders these days cleverly arrange subtle fencing and other obstacles to force the public through their sales offices on the way to viewing the tastefully decorated display model homes. I had previously warned the sales staff that Jophie still didn't know about the new house and not to say anything to disrupt my carefully planned unveiling, but there's always that 10% that doesn't get the word. I was nervous about it as I pushed open the door to the sales office. I shepherded Jophie quickly through the well appointed building as quickly as possible, avoiding my usual small talk with the chatty receptionist on our way out the side door to the first model home which represented the floor plan we had picked several years prior to this "casual" revisit.
This preferred model, "The Aspen", was the largest that the builder offered in this community, 2,800 sqft, both up and down, a "daylight, walk-out" basement (!), and a main floor plan that felt the most comfortable and practical to both of us. It had two spacious bedrooms with their own baths arranged at opposite ends of the house with a separate study/office/library (optionally a 3rd bedroom), "powder room", and an enormous kitchen all open to an informal dining area, familiy room, formal dining room and formal living room. The master bedroom suite with a very large 5-piece bath and huge (for us at least) walk-in closet, altogether filled the entire north end of the house.
As casually as I could, like the attentive real estate broker I am, I led Jophie through the front door of the "Aspen" model and together we roamed the house with me asking her how she liked this and how she liked that. The house was decorated beautifully, and of course, as anyone would, she was warming to the thoughts of how she might live in such surroundings. Like my as yet secret house a half mile away, the model had spectacular views of the Rockies to the west, all snow-capped and sparkling in the bright January sun. It had been a couple of years since she had been in the model and it was clear that she liked it even better than she had remembered it. To test her, I critiqued a couple of minor aspects of the design, but again, she unwittingly fell into my plan by defending the design!
My cue that it was finally time to show her my cards was when she eventually said, "Yes, I really do like this house and the views are fantastic!"
"Well, I understand they have one on a view lot that might be available, do you want to take a look at it?"
"Sure, I'll look at it"
So, I sneaked her back through the sales office, and with a horrible feeling of dread, my stomach tied in knots, I drove slowly down to the house on Quandary Loop. (all the streets in the community are named for Colorado mountain peaks, Quandary Peak is a 10,000+ footer in southwestern Colorado) I parked in the driveway, opened the car door for her, and led her up the steps to the front door. She didn't even seem surprised that I already had a key to the house. I guess she just figured that every Realtor had a master key to show the vacant homes in the community.
We walked across the threshold and onto that stunning ancient looking travertine entryway. The plantation shutters were all closed, so it was fairly dark inside despite the bright sunshiny day. I immediately started throwing the shutters open to reveal the panoramic views of the mountains across the entire back wall of the house and to illuminate the features I had picked for the interior. The sunlight highlighted the dark cherry wood floors. Even though the interior was still somewhat dusty, awaiting its final cleaning by the builder, and, of course, unfurnished, the effect was nonetheless impressive.
As some of you have suggested, you would have been plenty worried about picking the finishes in a new home without consulting your wife's opinion or participation, and I confess to being somewhat concerned about that myself. However, after nearly 40 years of marriage, I knew that Jophie and I have similar tastes. Luckily for me as I accompanied her through the house, pretending that it was the first time I had ever been in it myself, I asked her what she thought about the flooring, the tile, the shutters, the granite, the cabinets, the appliances, and even the wall color (tan). The answers, again fortunately for me, were uniformly enthusiastically positive. Phew! My stomach was still in turmoil, but I was starting to think that against all odds, maybe I was actually going to dodge this bullet that had been speeding towards me for six excrusiating months!
When I was convinced that she liked the house and the views (and I hadn't even shown her the views from the basement windows yet! Har!) I suddenly said, as if I had just thought of something that I had almost forgotten, "Oh, I left something in the car, be right back."
Hidden in the car, I had secreted a little gold foil-covered gift box. In it was a miniature kitchen cannister with a see-through plastic top. Inside the cannister was the ping pong ball with the numeral "9" painted on it, the lottery drawaing ball with which I had earned the right to buy this house on this lot. When I came back into the house with the little gold box, Jophie was wandering around in the master bedroom, checking everything out one more time. Eventually she came back into the kitchen where I was waiting, the gold box perched on the kitchen counter.
"Oh, what's that?"
"Merry Christmas."
Her body language instantly reacted with disapproval...."I thought we agreed not to exchange gifts this year. We took Joe and Darlene to New York for Christmas instead!" She gave me a disapproving look. "And, besides, it's not Christmas anymore, this is January."
"I know, but it's just a little thing, so indulge me this one time."
Jophie likes gifts, so the clouds parted and her face instantly brightened with forgiveness. "Okay," she said as she picked up the box and turned it around and around. "I really wonder what't in it. What IS in it?"
"Just open it, it's really nothing special."
So with me in suspended agony, she finally opened the lid of the box and pulled the little cannister out from the surrounding tissue paper. Genuinely puzzled, she peered through the clear top at the ping pong ball with the number nine painted on it. "What IS this? An egg?"
She quizzically pulled the ball out of the cannister and turned it over in her fingers. "Are we going to play table tennis with someone this afternoon?"
I couldn't stand the suspense anymore, and launched into a shorter version of "The Saga" up to that point, and finished somewhat breathlessly with...."So, this is your house!"
I'll never forget the look of shock and awe on her face. Her mouth actually hung open as she slowly inhaled a long, very long, breath. Her eyes were as big as I've ever seen them as she pondered my words. Finally she exhaled with a loud sigh, "What did you just say?"
"It's yours, I built us this house for you (I wasn't fibbing, I may have built the basement for myself, I concede, but the house-house was definitely for her!) They sprang it on us five years earlier than I expected. I didn't tell you because every time I tried to, you kept saying that you didn't want to move from Rock Creek."
She just sood there and stared at me in disbelief. I wasn't sure if this was going to end well or not. The suspense was palpable.
Finally, to break the suspense, I said, "So are you mad at me?"
Long pause as she gazed around the family room, staring briefly at the stupendous views.
Her eyes came back and piercingly fixed themselves on mine. "How could I be mad at you for building me this beautiful house?!"
I started to feel the equivalent full weight of the house that had been grinding me into the ground for nearly six months start to lift from my aching back.
"So, do you still love me?"
She looked at me as if I had just asked a ridiculous question. "Of course I do. I'll always love you."
I suddenly heard the shriek of a bullet, a projectile the size of a locomotive, scream past my ear! Somehow, against all odds, against the hysterical predictions of everyone that knew about this little plot of mine, I had inexplicably managed to dodge what might have been the biggest bullet of my life! I felt the coiled spring of stress that had been wrapped around my spine for months start to unwind. Jophie put her arms around me and gave me a big kiss. I had survived!
Then, suddenly it hit me. The coil of stress stopped unwinding. I didn't have loan approval, and I might never get loan approval. This had been dragging out since October with no end in sight. The builder was getting more and more insistent about setting a closing date, and I was countering with charges of incompetence by there mortgage company which was delaying everything.
"Jophie, there is one thing you need to know before you get too excited about this. We don't have loan approval yet, and the builder is getting antsy. This is far from a sure thing at this point."
"Don't worry. I love the house. But if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. I'll be fine with it either way, so just do the best you can, and we'll hope for the best."
To be continued....
Bear -Some background, I was somewhat late getting to the forum. Many had been posting for years and many of those earlier posters, don't today. You were more active in my early days but then your posting gradually fell off with the exception of a few posts about some nice acquisitions. I remember because your post are well written and interesting, providing good description of those things that somehow work their way into your basement.
So, I do hope you will be posting again and I will be looking forward to your posts and adventures to come! Sounds like a great beginning.
Bear,
Thanks for posting the latest installment. It went better than expected. Looking forward to the next installment. I hope it is a happy ending.
Sounds all good except the part about not feeding the lawyers.
Gerry
cant wait till the next chapter, some pictures would add a lot to the story..
Marker,
Appreciate your kind words!
Back in the early "glory" days on the Forum, I had a lot more spare time. I was flying for the airline back then and commuting to "reserve", first in New York and then later to Guam, which meant that I had a lot of time while sitting around waiting for someone to call in sick and for me to get assigned their trip. In those days, the Forum was a Godsend, giving me something fun and useful to occupy my idle hours, building my passionate interest in the hobby, and learning volumes of "how to" information that as stood me in good stead to this day.
Some of the best friends I have on this planet are poeple I met on the Forum. They are truly like an extended family to me. But nowadays, I'm actually "working for a living", brokering real estate and managing my little real estate investment empire. If any airline pilot ever tells you what a tough job he/she has, you have my permission to slap them silly!
I forgot to mention earlier in response to your post that you are welcome to come see my four-loop "Bear's Bare Bones Railroad", a 16X24' tabletop layout of Gargraves track and Ross Custom switches. It's not much to look at, but at least I get to run the trains!
Send me an email and we'll make arrangements.
BareBonesBear
Chris,
You'll just have to stay tuned to see how it all turns out. Regardless, one thing I've learned in my 67 years is that Happy endings are ultimately related to one's own attitude about the outcome of a specific situation. Sometimes the fun is in looking back at the hairy twists and turns and the unanticipated surprises!
I want you to experience a little slice of the suspense I lived through in this story, because in our quests for train room real estate, and in experiencing the challenges and joys of holy matrimony, to a certain extent we all have common experiences to share with each other from which we can learn! So hang in there, my friend, we're progressing inexorably towards the climactic denoument!
AlwaysHappyEndingsBear
Gerry,
"Do not feed the Bears Lawyers!"
Actually, as in this case, we all make light of lawyers....until you need one!
Incidentally, speaking of lawyers, where's Erol been hiding?
PracticingLawWithoutALicenseBear
Bear, You are one lucky son of a gun, and the Mrs., one lucky lady!
I hope the next installment covers happily moving in, and telling everyone about all the new trains you buy this spring in YORK.
Shameles plug: My good friends Vince and Trainpop will be more than happy to help you with the last part at VINCE's Trains in the Orange Hall! LOL
See you next week!
Bear, you have a keeper there.
Longwindedbear,
Wow, the OGR Server just called, it wants its bandwidth back!
I want Cliff notes next time.
I see three possible trick bad endings:
-the kids or Grandkids are having financial trouble and need a place to stay, in the train room.
-the old house or new house burns down, complicating and delaying, or causing the loan to fall through.
-you all join the Hari Krishna Cult and give up all your worldly goods...the good news is you are working in airports again, and will have everlasting happpiness, which is nice.
I think the wife is going to confess that she bought the other house they first walked through and that's why there is all this confusion about the loan. 
Bear,
i meant to say I hope this is a happy ending, not if it is a happy ending. I hit post too quickly. Then left to do other things. I am glad you posted the story and keep the suspense. We all can see where this story can apply to us.
I do agree happy endings are how you perceive things. Sometime it looks bad and then another opportunity rises. Look forward to chatting on Fridays.
I think you are a bit late for the "closing chapter"
The actual closing chapter is in reality coming to a close this afternoon at 4:30 MDT
How long are we going to have to wait? How about some basement/house pictures for Weekend Photo Fun?
Scott Smith
Jim,
You're right that I'm one lucky guy! I honestly don't know how she's put up with me and my antics for 42 years, but thankfully she has and still does! The real mystery is how I ever talked her into quitting the best job she ever had, selling or storing all her worldly possessions, and ignoring the advice of all her family and friends, ran off to Japan with a still wet behind the ears young Marine aviator! But that's another story for another time. Suffice it to say that I must have been one helluva persuasive salesman back then!!
LuckyBear
Lou,
You got that right, pardner! I hope she still thinks I am a keeper too! After all this new house drama, I can't afford a divorce, not even if Gerry and Erol do it pro bono!
Did I mention that she's Italian too? That's the biggest regret I have in life, that I wasn't born an Italian. I had to marry into a pack of 'em as the next best thing. You guys live life to the fullest, see everything bigger and better than the rest of us do, and you know how to have fun no matter what!
Hope to meet you at York,
ItalianWannabeBear
And one super OGR forum member, as well as the many others, that we enjoy hearing from.
Have a bearry good evening!
Ken
Thanks, Chris, I appreciate your friendship and your perspective regarding "happy endings". Life is what you make of it, but it's always better with a reunion at York every six months!
See you there,
YorkboundBear
Thanks, Ken, I appreciate your kind words very much!
Scott, I'll get to what happened this afternoon at 4:30, but only in due course. You would never guess how it fits into the story, but you'll find out in the final installment, so hang in there, old buddy! I don't want to get ahead of my story and cheat you out of all the gory details!
Now on to the next episode in the saga....
BearyHappyBear
::::::: SPOILER ALERT!!!:::::::::
Denver Post headline:
"Bear Owen Wins Colorado Lottery, Pays Off New House"
Subtitle:
"Buys a round of box cars for OGR attendees at Fridays"
And now, another thrilling, (or mind-numbing, take your pick) adventure from yesteryear, as our thrill a minute story continues....
Narrator's voice from off-screen: "When we left our hero, he had just dodged a two ton armor piercing high explosive bullet from a 16 inch naval gun when he revealed his little secret to his unsuspecting wife, a 5,600 square foot house that had literally been built under wraps in complete secrecy....how do you spell R-E-L-I-E-F?....need we say more?!"
I had made it over a major hurdle unscathed, but the matter of the loan approval was rapidly becoming almost as worrisome as fessing up to Jophie had been. In the wake of the 2008 mortgage meltdown and associated worldwide financial crisis, I had committed the ultimate sin of actually applying for a loan to buy a house! No good deed goes unpunished, and I was getting mine. My second mortgage borrowing faux pas was that I had enough liquid assets to buy the house outright, but not wanting to unwisely convert all my future retirement savings into one single asset, I had acted with the audacity of actually applying for a loan as a (please hide the children) self employed person!
The underwriters and the loan processing bureaucrats blanched at such an outrageous proposition. Surely I was joking! "We don't care how much money you have, you ignoramus, what carries water around here is VERIFIABLE INCOME! You don't need a loan, so we can't make you one, simple as that." Whatever happened to that old adage that the only person who can get a loan is someone who doesn't need one?! I guess a lot of "old adages" died in the crash of '08!
You recall the nice young man who was my original loan officer, the one that thought veterans were something special? He had been kicked upstairs into management, but fortunately he gave me his back channel phone number and he started running interference for me behind the scenes. Without his creative genius and persistence, my chances of getting a loan would have been permanently dead in the water. It was still painful, and infuriatingly ridiculous. I had to jump through a whole lot of absurd hoops, but about a year ago April, it looked like he had worked out a way with the underwriters to qualify me for a new VA loan. It would take some more time, but things were starting to move in the right direction.
Meanwhile, remember all those fancy upgrades I put into the house? If at the time I had ordered them I had actually thought that I was going to end up buying the house, I would certainly not have exercised such spendthrift taste, but all the stuff was in the house, and I was going to have to eat it all now that Jophie knew about it and we were both committed to the plan.
But here, Gerry, divine retribution entered the picture again. To get the loan, an appraisal, not just any appraisal, but a VA APPRAISAL, had to be done. And when it arrived at the lender's doorstep in April, guess what?! All those goodies I had built into the house hadn't impressed the VA appraiser one bit concerning the builder's comparable houses of the same floor plan which had not been gold plated by their new owners like the one on Quandary Loop had been. The appraisal came in $35,000 below the purchase price, very nearly the builder's sunken cost of all the extras! When my pal at the mortgage company called me with the good news, I almost fell out of my chair. After a few frantic calls between the loan officer and the sales manager, the builder reluctantly agreed to reduce the price to the appraised value! Poetic justice and a lesson, whether heeded by these young upwardly mobile corporate ladder climbers or not, about how arrogantly kicking sand on your customers can sometimes come back and bite you in the behind!
But, the loan was still not approved. The deadline in the sales contract for loan approval had long since passed through no fault of mine. One afternoon, I was sitting at my desk at work, trying not to gloat over the fact that the previous morning, the builder's sales manager and I had inked an amendment to the contract, dropping the sales price by $35,000 to reflect the VA appraised value. I was roused out of my happy revery when our front desk receptionist buzzed me on the intercom to tell me that FedEx had just dropped off a package for me. I walked to the reception foyer and picked up the purple and orange overnight envelope. I returned to my office and pulled the zipstrip on the envelope and opened it. What I found inside rocked my smug little world to its foundations!
To be continued....
