Utopia, Eureka, Eugene!

by Geno Petro

Chicago Broker Owner Realtor | RE 2.0 Blogger

Author website

Now where was I…? Oh yeah, poking fun at my fellow real estate consorts for exhibiting groveling-like behavior in a buyer’s market. But that was three weeks ago and as we all know, a lot can happen in 21 days. It was also the last time I personally wrote a deal or, for that matter, even had a legitimate buyer in my car.

In 21 days they say a person can break a habit, create a habit or change a behavior. In 21 days most solid citizens should be able to negotiate a real estate offer, secure a mortgage commitment, and receive a clear to close letter from their lenders (one would think). In 21 days a well priced property, even in a lukewarm urban market like Chicago, should have at least one decent showing (ditto the above sentiment). In 21 days, the average household fly has experienced its entire lifespan without even having a genetic shot at morphing into a butterfly– unlike his other, more birth privileged fellow insect, the caterpillar. And in the blink of an eye (plus 21 days, give or take) and a thimble full of fate, it can all change…

My parents were married 10 years before I came along–that’s how they always put it; “…then you came along,” which I was cool with, mind you. No therapy issues here. As a youngster I had this imaginary vision of me arriving on some sort of astral boxcar that just came along; hungry and unshaven, in need of a drink and a smoke (lot’s of black and white TV watching in those early years)…God then drops me (already, a somewhat old soul, I’m supposing, thus the alcohol and tobacco hobo reference) into the Petro family just as they were clearing the dishes from the proverbial dinner table a good 10 years after the metaphoric dessert was served. I also have two younger sisters who apparently, just came along as well. According to the little bit I know about quantum mathematical statistics, all three of us could have just as easily been caterpillars, flies, or even less. And on closer examination now, I think the words ‘came along‘ are probably as close to the mention of sex any of us have ever had in the family, at least for discussion purposes. Hmmm…..

Anyway, this all took place on August 23rd, 1956 a cusp and a monkey year, from what everybody tells me. Then they named me…Eugene. I daydreamed of future years when I could have a tougher name like my cousin Eddie or my best friend’s Uncle Tony, both of whom were actually tough. I wished for a lot of things back then but mostly, I wished for time to pass quickly and for me to get bigger. A little later on I would add personal fortune to that list and strike the first two.

So what have I been doing these last 21 days? I don’t know. Nothing, really…except thinking about all the trivial things I just mentioned; no showings, no deals, flies, habits, childhood, coming along…. I keep envisioning a Utopian future but as each day passes, I secretly know better. I keep waiting for the next great idea to pop into my head or a good reason to jump out of bed in the morning and sprint down the stairs and commence writing more, and selling more, and being a better all-around Virgo, monkey, fly on the wall…

I didn’t realize my birth name was actually Eugene until the first day of 1st Grade. Up until that cataclysmic day everyone had always called me Genie–as if it could get any worse. The nun was going through the roll call. I barely remember the echo…’eugene, eugene, Eugene, EUGENE, EUGENE!’ Suddenly, she was towering above me in a fit of rage, really pissed off at my benign disobedience. All I remember saying was…

“My name is Genie.”

Classroom UPROAR. Tears. Punishment. Rebellion. And so the metamorphosis began. In 21 days I was Gene. A few years later I was Geno. The last time I posted on Bloodhound I was Meano Geno. And that pretty much brings you up to date on my dancecard. In other words, I’ve got jackshit going on. I think I’ll start that novel.