Awful, awful tragedy, but there's a lesson here

Toddlers drown

Toddlers drown

 twins drown in pool.

Three-year-old twin boys drowned in their backyard pool Wednesday — after slipping out the back of their Long Island home while their mother was asleep, law enforcement officials said.

Kids don't drown in creeks or ponds, as a general observation. Pools are deadly. I personally wouldn't have a pool if I had children under, say 8, and even then I'd want them to know how to swim. If you must have one, look into one of those pool barriers that is removable, but don't remove it (while the pool is open) until your children are old enough and able enough to survive in water. 

These are such awful tragedies, and it breaks my heart to hear of them, whether they occur in Greenwich or somewhere else. Just don't do it.

This lawyer would have accepted a fool for a client

11 Cove Road (boat and paddle board borrowed from neighbor, left)

11 Cove Road (boat and paddle board borrowed from neighbor, left)

A year ago come August, a spec builder who chose to represent himself as the listing agent put 11 Cove Road, in Lucas Point, Old Greenwich, up for sale at $11.750 million. I, and commenters on this blog, hooted with derision at that price (and once again, I so regret losing my archives, because otherwise we could all revisit that original post and have a hearty laugh), and we were proved right: latest price cut today puts it down to $7.475.

Assuming it finally sells for, say, $6.5 million, that builder would have paid $162,500 to a listing broker and received in return an accurate listing price, someone to absorb advertising costs, and willing to spend endless hours showing the place, all while avoiding the carrying costs of a project that he'd sunk millions into: $3.5 million for the land alone. But no one was going to steal money from this genius!

Not much else to add; we've been picking on this house for a while now, but there is this: a listing note reminds agents that the project received "HOBI Awards for Best Spec House of 2016, and Best Library".

HOBI ("Connecticut Home Builders whatever" is one of those circle-jerk organizations run by a PR firm, JMC Resources, that makes its money from publishing a "builder" magazine: buy an ad, get a profile. The members take turns giving prizes to one another so everyone can tout their phoney, absurd plaques to gullible buyers. My advice: If you like a house, buy it: if you don't, then don't. A HOBI award might just as well be on the roller in the bathroom.

HOBI  award-winning library. you might think a library would have a ceiling, so you could have some quiet while reading a book, if there were any here to read.  If we had ham, we could have ham and eggs, if we had eggs.  

HOBI  award-winning library.

you might think a library would have a ceiling, so you could have some quiet while reading a book, if there were any here to read. 

If we had ham, we could have ham and eggs, if we had eggs.

 

You can let your children play unsupervised near the roadways again, at least for six months

Sheri Lampert has been found guilty of driving drunk after defeating her breathalyzer ignition lock (she rented a car from Enterprise and promptly crashed it, twice) and sentenced to 3 months in prison. In addition her probation for an earlier sentence of six months has been revoked. I assume the sentences will run concurrently, not consecutively, but there's always hope.

Sadly, my previous recountings of this Old Mill Road resident's misadventures were lost to the ozone when I switched blog hosting services, but I've been following her career since she drove her Mercedes through her ex-husband's garage door, years ago, in a fit of drunken pique. Since then, she's been arrested, again and again, and was even busted for drug use in Colorado. I'm sure she's a very sick woman, but she's also a menace to all who share the road with her, so we all have a brief respite from her menace.

You can Google "Shari Lampert Greenwich" and get a flavor of her driving history, but suffice to say that she's been arrested repeatedly for drunk driving and never stopped—she didn't have to stop drinking, of course; that's her business—but a woman living in a $7 million mansion can afford a taxi, or if not, she could call Uber, if her fingers weren't shaking too much to punch a keyboard.