[Michael Leavitt's Home Page | Back Issues of the MMM | Current Issue of the MMM]

MONDAY MORNING MESSENGER

Message prepared especially for Members of the American Institute of Inspectors® as well as Home Inspectors abroad

September 11, 2000

GOOOOOD MORNING A.I.I.™

It's a great day here in Orlando, Florida. We are about to board the big Disney Magic cruise ship. It is a new boat specializing in the new 7 day Disney cruises. Storms are coming and going through our navigational pass, but no huge hurricanes are being reported.

I bet you wish that you were here...... Well, you should. Taking time off from inspecting has been a joy. Spending time with Shelly and the Fosters has also been a pleasure. We have been eating incredibly well and we have been wondering why we waited so long to take this kind of break???

In a few hours we will finally be free of the ties of land..... Only ship-to-shore phone calls and telegraphs stand a chance of reaching us..... What will it be like? As for the past couple of days in the Magic Kingdom, they have truly been memorable.

DON'T MESS WITH THE EPA

Thanks for the replies to the EPA Lead-Based Paint fiasco.

I would probably have my tail in a knot and feel that I must have committed the equal to murder if I was in your situation, but from the outside it is really laughable. I'm really for the regulation that supports the guy doing the right thing, and cuts away the sleeze. But when it works in just the opposite directioin, it even gives us bleeding hearts pause. Roy Brown

The EPA sucks and I can't believe you are publishing all this on the web. I am sure they can read it if they want to. Jon Gudnason

I don't understand why they couldn't take a few moments out of their day and just notify you that the web page needed "corrections" My personal feelings are that once someone recieves power and authority it is almost always abused. Chris Burkhart

It is a sad state of affairs when government leans on hard working taxpayers who are trying thier best to provide a needed service to the general public. Big deal that the certification was not stated exactly correct or that native americans might benefit from your service. How is that worth thousands of dollars in fines? I think they don't have enough to do and therefore need something to justify thier phony balogny positions,like legislatures or most any government official. Those people would have a tough time making it in the real world, especially as self employed. They have no concept of dollars and what it takes to earn them. Our government is not a for profit organization.

I think it should be leased to private contractors and run like a business. Lee Iacoco would get it in order and make the tax dollars balance with the budget.

Last month I recieved a bill from the IRS for $600.00. They said I failed to pay my quaterly tax on time. I sent them photo copies of the cancelled checks proving them wrong. They sent a second bill for $2300.00! Then I went ballistic and sent another not so nice letter describing thier incorrectness and compentence lacking. Then I waited in apprehension for the audit notice we all fear! Just the other day, the letter arrived. It was an apology from the IRS for the mistake and inconvience. WHEW!!

Have a wonderful vacation, Michael. It's well deserved. You are a credit to our profession and a leader in the field of home inspection. Keep your snorkels up! Reggie Ayres

PUNKY MUDSILL - Epilogue By Roy Brown

The Occasional Chronicles of Punky Mudsill
Alternative to the Professionals, House Detective Extraordinare

Epilogue

So you'se all are readin this last part a the story a week after part IV. But I really wrote this a long time later. I got me three squares and a cot now, and somethin to occupy my time and mind every day. The old Punkster is fightin back. But more about how that happened later.

I bet you'd like to know what ever became of Paula & Company. As ya might expect, Duddly didn't rest until he set things straight. I guess it was that old Mountie blood. Duddly took his film straight to the processin center, and like old Rod Stewart said in the song, every picture tells a story, don't it? He made 8 X 10 color glossy photos of Paula dividin up the cash with Rolanda and Olden. Duddly and his 8 X 10's went straight back to the insurance company. From there on things didn't go too well for the co-conspirators. They're all gettin three squares and a cot now too. Only, they don't get out much any more, if ya get my drift. Olden was set up for retirement in two weeks. I like to think he got early retirement, but with a different plan than he had in mind. I understand he's got a real knack for sheet metal work. His new hobby is license plates.

I just saw a newspaper from the old town. "Bette Yacan Buy A New Home Now" is the new business in town. I'm sure old Bette is doin pretty good, too. Maybe she hired Ray, cause his business wasn't doin too good when I left.

So I can almost hear ya screamin, "What are you doin now, Punky"? Well, I made a move. It was a good one, too. I was sittin in old Prince with nothin much left but my Pat Paulson for President poster, which I managed to hold on to. The old girl wasn't runnin too smooth, but the heater was still blastin. I was glad a that cause it was startin to get down right cold. Ever the crack inspector, even in the shame of my darkest days, I was readin this inspector's rag.

I read this article about an angel of mercy. She lived in this most unlikely of places, and was volunteerin in the soup kitchen on Saturday nights. She said this beanpole guy came in with hair lookin like he stuck his finger in the light socket. She dished him out a bowl of soup. The kitchen was slow, so she went to set down and visit with him. Now, this guy hadn't been doin too good, and he mumbled about wantin to be a home inspector while the rutabaga soup dribbled down his chin. This lady, her name's Shelly, was a sucker for down and out skinny guys. One thing ya don't know, if you don't know Shelly, is that she is stubborn. When Shelly gets a direction, ya don't want to be standin in the way, or ya won't be standin for long.

After a little planin, Shelly got this half way house started, with da beanpole, his name is Michael, as the first client. She wanted him busy during the day, so she asked her friends if Michael could come over and inspect their homes. She told them he was in trainin, even though he didn't know a stem wall from drywall. Michael started inspectin and caught on pretty fast. In no time he was doin real inspections, and Shelly started chargin fees, makin a go of her half way house. It was only a coupla a years before Michael got the swelled head, wantin to name the business after himself. Shelly figured what the heck; she wasn't in it for the glory. So Michael does inspectin, and Shelly takes care of washed up home inspectors lookin for a second chance. Oh, by the way, Michael and Shelly got married. And she lets him think he's da boss. She's ok with that too, but she takes care of the checks. We all know who the boss really is.

Anyways, I was sittin in old Prince reading about all of this when her engine bucked twice and died. I stepped outside to take a look at Prince, and as I did, a seam opened up in the clouds, castin this pinpoint of sunlight on the very spot I stood. Now, I ain't entirely a religious guy, but it looked like a sign to me. I quickly checked my pockets and found the thirty-five bucks I'd been holdin onto. I looked back to the rag I was readin to find out where this Shelly was. Next I grabbed my Pat Paulson poster and headed for the Greyhound Bus Station, without lookin back. When I got to the bus station, I asked the fella behind the counter, "How much is a ticket of Orem, Utah"?

I'll bet ya guessed it! The ticket was thirty-five bucks. A day and a half later I was knockin on the door at Shelly's Half Way House for Washed Up Home Inspectors. I been here a while now, getting three squares and a cot. I started out doin inspections for free, just like Michael did. Shelly is chargin now, and she is finally getting her investment back. I don't think it'll be long and I'll be out on my own again, fightin the good fight.

But for right now, me, Punky Mudsill, is here at Shelly's Half Way House for Washed Up Home Inspectors, getting re-habilitated! Hooda Ever Thunk It!

This story was written by Roy Brown for the entertainment of the members of the American Institute of Inspectors. Any reproduction is strictly prohibited, unless, of course, there are big bucks in it for the author.