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The Real Estate Investor Training Program

A comprehensive, interactive, and results-oriented “active learning” program for real estate investing. “The thing about this class is that it isn’t just learning, this is ‘active learning’ which is over 1,000 times better than ordinary learning. Plain learning is for dummies and losers. You’ll be learning so actively your head will spin. You’ll be saying ‘not so active. We can’t take it,’ but you’ll love it, believe me.”

Field Mentorship

Get 3 Days Personal Coaching by a Real Estate Investment Expert — In Person and On Location “I’m going to get fantastic mentors. The best. Guys like Carl Icahn I’m going to put on this. Tough guys. The mentoring that goes on now, it’s pathetic. When you’re a protege for three days with somebody, not anybody but somebody I choose, it’s really going to be something.”

Real Estate Coaching

Reach Your Investment Goals Faster with a Professional Real Estate Coach! “I have a lot of respect for coaches like Bobby Knight. Isn’t he a great guy? He helped us, believe me. In Indiana I had a landslide. Nobody ever saw anything like it before. That was my goal. You’ve got to have goals because if you don’t, what’ve you got? You’re going to end up sorry.”

Master Secrets of Tax Lien Investing

Your complete learning system on low-risk, high-return tax lien investments. “This is an important class. you’ve got to take it. What else can you do? You’ve got to take it. Now, for me, I get very high returns, huge returns, because, you see, I take risks but they’re not really risks for me because, for me, I know what I’m doing. Practically nobody knows what they’re doing but me. When you’re talking debt, I am a master. Nobody knows debt like I do.”

“The beauty of this is that it’s right there. It’s all right there in the title. Some people read the title and they don’t get it. They just don’t get it. What do you do with somebody like that? I can’t stand them. I’d like to punch them in the face. They’re sleazes. Get them out of here.”

Foreclosure DealSource

Your one source for complete and accurate distressed property listings an essential real estate investing tool. “A businessman, and that’s what I am, I’m a very important businessman, a businessman does what i do. So what does the political press expect me to do? They are so bad. They’re the worst ever ever. But this is what a businessman does, believe me. You buy properties when they’ve gone down. If you’re smart, that’s when you make your money. They’re such dummies.”

Profit From Real Estate Investing – Free Introductory Class

Learn how to invest and profit in real estate at this FREE introductory workshop. “I offer this class for nothing. For nothing. I could have charged. A lot of people were telling me ‘Charge them, charge them, everybody charges’ but that’s not right. It’s not how I do it. I never charge for classes except all the other classes, you’ve got to charge for them. You’ve got to. If you don’t charge no one gets how valuable it is though this class, there’s not too much we teach you in this class.”

Quick Start Real Estate Retreat

Focusing on Wholesale/Lease Option methods, you’ll learn how to create quick cash without using any of your own money or credit. “This class, 97% of the people who have gone on this retreat, which by the way is held at The Trump Fallsburg, 97% have written letters, that we have that we can show you, where they say this has been the most magnificent weekend of their life, that it has changed them. They say it has changed them. Since the hotel is not open for the season yet, we stay in the waiters’ bunks which, you’re worried they’re not comfortable? They’re unbelievably comfortable but you’ve got to keep them clean because the estonians come over next week.”

Wealth Preservation Retreat

Learn how to effectively structure your financial affairs in a way that ensures maximum protection. “Not so many women go on the retreats which is really, really a shame because no one respects women like Donald J. Trump. I honor them. I honor women but they hear they’re all sharing the waiters’ bunkhouse and they act ‘We’re so clean, we’re so nice’ plus they hear all kinds of outrageous lies about the hygiene from the press. They’re liars Not every one but most of them. They lie.”

Creative Financing Retreat

Learn the best known creative real estate financing strategies for any property in today’s market. “I’ve always said that a good woman broker with a rack, a hard working one, is worth eleven men without a rack. If a woman knows how to talk to a man, really talk to a man, then she’s in control. She has all the power. The men can’t say anything, it’s not PC to say anything, especially if she’s hot. That’s how you make a lot of money with a hard working hot broker, so long as, so long as she doesn’t gain weight.”

Three Master Secrets of Real Estate Investing – Online Version   

“I’m not going to tell you what this is. It’s crazy how, some teachers and i’m not saying who but I’ve heard about some teachers and i saw them on TV, they tell you the Three Master Secrets right away and then everybody knows what they are. They’re giving away the whole thing! I’m not going to do that. I’m going to keep the secrets and when its the time, the right time, then i’m going to use those secrets to surprise everyone. Until then, everything’s on the table”.

No posters, no lunchboxes, no trading cards – that’s not the kind of Monkees fan I was. I don’t think I’ve ever owned a Monkees LP.  I watched the show at it’s September ’66 beginning but by the summer of ’68 I was gone, one of those snotballs who said, “But they don’t write their music, they don’t play their instruments,” but in fairness, I was 12 years old – I didn’t know Brill Building, I didn’t know Gold Star and the Wrecking Crew, I didn’t know the L.A. scene and that half of the more “authentic” records I was listening to had the same musicians on them as the Monkees records. I didn’t know “Headquarters.” Soon “Back to Mono” and Harry and Todd and Brian and Eric and Wally and even Ray Davies would show me the transcendent virtue of pure pop confection but I wasn’t there yet. I didn’t get that a commercial intent could lead to something magic. There was plenty of commercial intent on display at Town Hall last night but not too much magic. I’m not sure if I was too late or too early but the only tickets I could get were the very highly priced “Merch Package” ones which got me some good seats and a truly craptastic book of gig dates authored by Andrew Sandoval who, as Andrew, used to put out his own highly worthwhile albums.

So, if I was to learn that art can bloom from commerce, last night I learned that sometimes it’s just commerce. Mickey was fine, Peter seems like a nice fellow, the back-up was sharp (Adam Schlesinger showed up for Stepping Stone) and they did all your favorite numbers but the whole thing felt like a day in the office. Michael (an absolute pill at City Winery a couple of years ago) actually had the temerity to perform a single song from some remote location by Skype. Otherwise, the screen behind the band showed clips from the TV show all night – an annoying nuisance except for appearances by Julie Newmar and Hans Conreid. Remember when Brian came back in ’98 with Foskett and The Wondermints and the rest of that great band, how juicy with emotion that was? This wasn’t that.

1. Listen to the Band
2. Last Train to Clarksvill
3. Saturday’s Child
4. Your Auntie Grizelda
5. She
6. She Makes Me Laugh
7. A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You
8. The Girl I Knew Somewhere
9. Steam Engine
10. Shades of Gray
    (Davy Jones pre-recorded vocals)
11. Papa Gene’s Blues
    (with Michael Nesmith via Skype)
12. Randy Scouse Git
13. For Pete’s Sake
14. Don’t Do It
    (Micky Dolenz song) (Micky Dolenz)
15. (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher
    (Jackie Wilson cover) (Peter Tork)
16. Let’s Dance On

    Set 2:

17. Mary, Mary
18. Circle Sky
19. Porpoise Song (Theme From “Head”)
20. Long Title: Do I Have to Do This All Over Again?
21. I Was There (And I’m Told I Had A Good Time)
    (with Adam Schlesinger – keyboards)
22. (I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone
    (Paul Revere and The Raiders cover) (with Adam Schlesinger – keyboards)
23. Words
24. Goin’ Down
25. D.W. Washburn
    
26. What Am I Doin’ Hangin’ ’round?
    (Michael Martin Murphey cover)
27. Daydream Believer
    (John Stewart cover) (Davy Jones pre-recorded vocals)
28. Pleasant Valley Sunday
    (Carole King cover)

    Encore:

29. That Was Then, This Is Now
    (The Mosquitos cover) (with Vance Brescia of The… more )
30. I’m a Believer
    (Neil Diamond cover)

Supposing that this blog has any organizing principal beyond being the soiled boxers of my random brainfarts, which supposition is facially unmerited, in my humble opinion, I would say that, besides being the byproduct of my trying, trying, trying to stay in the moment, it’s about finding clarity and satisfaction in a world that contains the very real possibility of there being no tomorrow, without either positive or negative fantasies of a future that no longer feels ahead of me (and that’s okay). Maybe it’s my near-death experience or my first wife’s actual-death experience or my happiness with Jolean, maybe it’s being retired, maybe it’s being 60.  In any case, that’s my commitment and in furtherance of said goal I am compelled to confess right here and right now that I have lived for 55 years, right up until this very moment, with the absolute expectation that there would come a day when all the people of the world with the intelligence to discern it would recognize me as the preeminent actor of my generation. Don’t ask me how. I don’t know. Discovered having a malt at Schwab’s, maybe. For 35 years I’ve answered the phone hoping that it was my friend Ken Slevin, the theatrical agent, saying, “I have a call here for a 5’10”, 190 pound blue-eyed bald Jew with glasses, a paunch and a knowing demeanor and I remembered how good you were in that student film Gompertz did in sophomore year so, naturally, I thought of you.” Whatever, from my first audition at five years of age for the part of Toto in the Deerkill Bungalow Colony 1961 production of “The Wizard of Oz”, I knew. All that insipid arfing and bow-wowing the other kids produced – my father, who, in those days, I took to be the funniest living being on the face of the planet had taught me authentic barking right alongside mama, dada and alleged – I knew I nailed it. I wore white footie pajamas with a brown spot pinned to it and a stocking my mother had braided for a tail and I hit my marks and I picked up my cues and I barked like my life forever would depend on it and during my curtain call the audience’s applause shook the above-ground foundations of the whole damn casino just like I knew it would. A partial CV: it’s 1962 and a nation overwraught with nuclear anxiety is crying for the restorative laughter that can only be provided by just one brave little boy performing impressions in Miss Jospey’s Second Grade Class Talent Show at the P.S.196 Annex (without exaggeration, David Leonard still speaks of my Jimmy Durante); a cavalcade of skits, co-written and performed with future Angeleno Jimmy Baron, offered to Mrs. Schwinger’s fifth grade class in lieu of written book reports; two times have I played the father of an ingenue significantly senior to me, once in the Camp Arcady production of “The Pajama Game” and once in the Camp White Meadow Lake “110 In the Shade”; I delivered what is still largely regarded as the definitive adolescent Nicely Nicely Johnson in The Forest Hills Jewish Center presentation of “Guys and Dolls”; I expanded my portfolio to include Ibsen with my stirring portrayal of Peer Gynt for an acting class I enrolled in during the eleventh year of working towards my undergraduate degree at NYU (I really bit the shit out of that onion – very moving); and then there are the twin triumphs of a two-hander from “The Country Girl” performed with future expatriate teacher Rosemary James (Rosemary, I’ve kept your secret!) and Ricky Romano’s opening monologue from “Glengarry Glen Ross” performed in the manner of Moe Grubman, both for Bill Hickey’s class at HB Studios in 1982, and, I swear to you, pound for pound, there was no other 26 year old thespian in the city, in the country, anywhere with more talent, more potential than I had before I entered law school. [NB that the above portrayals represent maybe one quarter of my repertoire.] Who born in 1955 could surpass me? Bruce Willis? That’s practically a gimme. I can act from a bed just as somnolently as Willis can and at half the ticket price. The awful truth is I can’t remember watching a theatrical or film or television production without churning with envy at the performers positions, without sitting there assessing “I couldn’t do that part” (most of the female roles), “I could do that part” or, most tragically, “I could have done that part if I had spent the last 35 years honing my craft instead of practicing law”. [Deep Reveal: at the most honest level, I am still hoping that the very act of posting this piece will motivate some drama type to make me an offer.] Because the awfulest awful truth is that my writing ambitions are no more than my acting ambitions wearing a lower risk, less homosexual, more respectable face and, as you can judge, my skills here have also suffered from too long a fallow period.

Ladies and gentlemen, drum roll please. I give you Mei. Mei is a master barber. For twenty years she has trimmed my beard and shaved me every ten days or so and cut my hair every few months. I don’t shave inbetween visits. Mei is the only one who puts razor to my face.  Each meeting keeps to the formula; each meeting is a little different. Lately, she has been putting less time into the shaving portion of the ritual but has added more hot towels and more time to the facial and cranial massage. It more than compensates. Frequently, I’ll prepare myself with a little herbal stimulation before the proceedings, lay back in the chair, and let the pampering take me somewhere close to transcendence. Mei works at 40th and Lex in a not-ironically-retro beauty parlor type establishment where the predominate clientele are geriatric  ladies getting their hair done by the Russian stylists who are pretty exclusively  the staff of the shop. Mei’s clientele are overwhelmingly men.

When I closed my law office my intention was to work as a freelance journalist and I told Mei so. “Do you want a story to write?” she said. “I have a story. About me.” We meet the following week at Bloom’s Deli after her last of the day. Over hamburgers and french fries, she told me a tale of herTaiwanese youth, fraught with Dickensian challenges. She was the third child, the third daughter, and was not a very healthy baby which, together, earned her the contempt of her despotic father. He made it known around their village that he would give Mei away to any taker. While she was still a little girl she was given to another couple who returned her soon after, adding to her father’s anger even more. This was the story she wanted to tell, the life of a child unloved but the story I thought I was more interested was her later life, how she learned her trade and then her version of the immigrant experience in New York City, so I didn’t pursue the child’s tale. In retrospect, her’s is the better story. She lives alone in Elmhurst now, close to her mother and to five of her six siblings. Relations within the very hierarchical family are a constant source of complication in her life. She’s the kind of person who always smiles, is open and chatty but dig a little and you’ll find she always seems to have the blues. She likes her work, though, and her clients. Jolean and I have had dinner with her at her local Taiwanese in Elmhurst. I consider her a friend. If you’d like to make an appointment with her, call the shop at 212-532-0692.

I’m sure somewhere someone with greater knowledge than I have is writing a more scholarly consideration of this matter than I am capable of but this question occurred to me when I learned of Peter Thiel’s sponsorship of Hulk Hogan in his action against Gawker for defamation and for the more newly conceived tort of invasion of privacy. First, a little black-letter law as gleaned from USLEGAL.COM.

“Law stipulates that personal tort claims are not assignable and hence, injuries which are purely personal in nature, such as  distress, cannot be assigned to another person.[i] In the absence of a statute allowing the survival of personal torts, unliquidated and unvested personal torts claims are not assignable.[ii] Therefore, individuals are prohibited from assigning to a third person, a cause of action in tort for a personal injury that does not survive the death of the person injured.
Examples of personal tort claims that are not assignable include assault and battery, personal injury, false imprisonment, malicious prosecution, invasion of privacy, conspiracy and unfair and deceptive trade practices. In addition, courts have held that defamation is a personal injury claim and hence is not assignable. The court differentiated the nature of defamation and observed that defamation invades the interest in personal or professional reputation and good name, vindicating personal interests.[iii]”
Now, a little issue spotting: Is Hogan’s action a personal tort? The defamation claim certainly is and I see no distinction in the invasion of privacy claim that would cause a different conclusion. Was there an assignment? Superficially, it would seem the answer is no. The elements of an assignment are, I think, an intention on the part of the parties that the property be assigned and the receipt of consideration by the assignor. Surely the funds advanced by Thiel constitute consideration whether or not there is an agreement for reimbursement. Is there an outright assignment of the case such that Thiel became the plaintiff of the action? No, there wasn’t but, then again, we know the court would not have permitted the substitution of parties. Is there an assignment of the monetary proceeds of the action? That’s a question of fact but for our purposes let’s assume there is not. Is there a de facto or equitable assignment of some benefit resulting from a successful outcome for Hogan in the case? This is where I would argue things get sticky. Assuming the Hulkster keeps the dough, Thiel is still getting the benefit he most desired out of the action – vengeance. He and Hulk wanted to do damage to Gawker and it’s fair to say they shared in that reward. Now, maybe this is all gobbledygook. It’s been a long time since I’ve engaged in this kind of exercise. I’m no maven on the law. I don’t even know what I’m citing in the USLEGAL excerpt above. Still, there’s something about the bankrolling of someone else’s personal grudge that’s troubling. Could Hogan have pursued his action without Thiel’s animus? Would he have found counsel willing to take the case on contingency after an evaluation of it’s merits? If the action was found against Hogan and the case turned out to be nothing but a nuisance suit, does that change the evaluation? I dunno. I’m better at raising issues than I am at resolving them. Seems worth considering, though.
### This is the more expert piece I knew was out there: http://overlawyered.com/2016/05/champerty-maintenance-explainer-gawkerhoganthiel-edition/

Having worked for thirty years in the highest echelons of the New York City real estate industry, I have a perspective on Donald j. Trump which is, perhaps, not unique but is certainly underreported. I have done deals with Harry Macklowe, Gary Barnett, Steve Ross, Steve Witkoff, Larry Silverstein, Aby Rosen and many other smaller developers in the Manhattan market and I can tell you with certainty that DJT is not only not respected by the development community in New York, he’s not even regarded as a developer. Let’s start with the most important fact – DJT only holds equity in three properties in Manhattan: the retail condominium at Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue, 40 Wall Street (an old FIDI building Trump bought to convert to residential which remains undeveloped and largely unoccupied) and a partial interest in a Sixth Avenue office building. That’s it. All those other buildings which bear the Trump name have been sold by Trump, have been taken by lenders in satisfaction of guarantees Trump lacked the cash to pay, are licensing the Trump name, are managed by Trump or were required to keep the Trump name as a condition of sale. DJT does not have a single penny of ownership in them. Not a penny. And the properties he does own have significant mortgages on them because, as DJT has proudly admitted, he is highly reliant on debt. Not that that’s a bad thing. All development is reliant on debt, usually personally guaranteed or bonded debt, and the most successful developers are admired as risk takers, the swashbucklers of the industry. And they often fail and face foreclosure or bankruptcy but the best ones come back and are even more respected for it. That’s not the DJT story. Every construction project Trump has undertaken was guaranteed by his father Fred. Donald was not taking the risk. Fred was. Fred was very well connected with the Brooklyn democratic machine and City Hall and every one of Trump’s projects benefited by that connection in the form of tax abatements given by the City to encourage the development of housing. Of housing! First the Hyatt Hotel and then Trump Tower were deemed to be housing according to Comptroller, then Mayor, Abe Beame. And during Fred’s lifetime, when Donald had access to his credit line, there were a few successes, including, initially, the Atlantic City casinos. Then came the Taj. It was to be the largest and most luxurious of the Atlantic City casinos. DJT got construction financing, all of which was personally guaranteed and guaranteed by the entities which owned the other casinos. Costs exceeded estimates and the lenders were squeezed into lending new money to protect the old. When the project was finally completed, the debt was too high, and the actual income too low, to support a permanent loan to take out the construction lenders so the Taj defaulted on it’s loans, the lenders called in the guarantees and, in the end, the bankruptcy court left DJT with NOTHING but the aforementioned three properties (and, I believe, Mar-a-Lago) and the Taj, which, despite renegotiation of its debt many times, remains underwater. How, then, does DJT value his worth at $10 billion? He has determined that a bonanza fide purchaser in an arm’s length transaction would pay him $8 billion for the exclusive right to put the Trump name on hotels, residential buildings, golf courses, ties and all the other things DJT is receiving income from. Now, does Trump naming rights have any value whatsoever to someone who is not named Trump? Probably not. Does the current cash flow support a valuation of $8 billion? We won’t know until we see the tax returns, which is undoubtedly why he is so reticent to provide them. Look, DJT’s not worth nothing. He probably has a legitimate balance sheet of a couple of billion which is not chump change. The problem is the outlandish claims he makes for himself. The NYC real estate industry is full of Trumps, loudmouth wheeler dealers trying to make themselves grander, more fabulous than they really are. Dozens of them, many of whom have real assets valued way higher than Trump’s. In the end, Trump has produced not so many successful projects but a whole lot of schadenfreude among the NYC players.

Writing about my medical problems is an unpleasant chore for me. It’s not very interesting and I don’t like reliving it. I feel an obligation to bring the record up to date, though, so here goes. The last time I wrote about this was last Friday when I was on my way home from Lenox Hill. My hemoglobin was over 10, I didn’t seem to have any active bleed (at least not one that an endoscopy or colonoscopy could find) and I anticipated doing a pillcam test sometime the following week. Monday morning, I went to Dr. Horbar’s office and had my level taken. My hemoglobin was still over 10 and from there I went on to have a fairly normal day. By afternoon, though, I was close to bedridden (I had to forego seeing The Chills, a band I love, at Monty Hall in Jersey that night – they hadn’t been in town for over twenty years). The following morning I called the doctor, finally reached him in the afternoon, told him my condition and was told to come in the next morning. Was there at 8:30AM. Rectal exam showed copious fresh blood. Go right to Lenox Hill emergency room, get tested and my hemoglobin is down to 5.5! My normal is 14.8 so I’m down to about 40% of my baseline. Receive transfusion of two bags of blood. Get a “bleeding” cat scan which reveals nothing. Sent up to surgical ICU since it’s anticipated that they’re going to need to open me up to find and stop the bleed. Take another test where they remove some of my blood  and zap it so it becomes radioactive, then they inject the blood back into me and do a scan. The scan shows a little blush in the small bowel. The surgical team gets ready to do an angioplasty to correct whatever the condition is but Dr. Horbar decides to try the pillcam first. Meanwhile, through all of this, my hemoglobin is holding steady at 7.2 which indicates there is no active bleed. Remember, this is my second day admitted. I swallow the pillcam

(technology devised by the Israelis for espionage purposes) which transmits images for eight hours to a walkman sized device hanging from my neck. No one is available to read the results until the following, Friday, morning. The pillcam pictures reveal an ulcer in the small bowel but also shows that the ulcer has scabbed over and isn’t bleeding anymore which explains why my level is holding steady. I receive another transfusion which brings my level to over ten and, at 10:00pm last night, I’m sent home. So over the course of three days and two nights I’ve been tested three times, been transfused three times and have not undergone any surgery or corrective procedure because the condition corrected on it’s own. Today, Saturday, I’m home and feeling pretty good. I’m guessing I’m over 11. Tuesday I’ll go back to Dr. Horbar to have my hemoglobin taken and, if it’s moved up, then I’m done. It’s been an ordeal. This last hospital stay was especially punishing, what with my physical condition and all the uncertainty and the grim possibilities and just being sick of the whole damn thing. Shout outs to, as always, my love Jolean, Samara, my Mom, Don Grubman, Deb Stein, Mark Gompertz and everyone who stayed in touch and was so concerned during my stay. Sorry to put you all through it.

We’re all adults here so it shouldn’t create a scandal if we acknowledge that men, even men with hot and loving wives like lucky me, enjoy the occasional masturbation. It’s something we’re drawn to. It was our first erotic experience. I don’t know  why i’m even trying to justify it here. We all know what’s good about masturbating. In my current case, though, well, let’s say I expect that my hands are going to be filled a lot more with free time. It’s not that, if i undertake the journey, i don’t reach my destination but at a certain point it becomes a bridge too far. First of all, I wake up and take a fistful of anti-depressants with the side effect of rigidity hostility. Next, since infection destroyed all but a little tail of my pancreas, I am diabetic. Even under control, that can be erectile deficiencing. Being 60 years of age is less than a benefit. Now, already paddling upstream, I’m anemic. Not having attended medical school, I can’t opine on the effect of reduced red blood cell capacity on that most blood-greedy organ but, with my new symptom of running out of breath easily, I’ve reached a tipping point. A question that was always answered (subject to the usual guilt restraints) “yes” is now sometimes no. Which will at least have the happy effect that a higher percentage of my flights will not be solo.

Please note the passing of Roxy Grubman, a ten and a half year old labradoodle and a very sweet, very warm and very well behaved dog. She had the habit of putting her head on my lap or on my foot whenever I came to visit her and I always felt chosen when she did.  I will miss the sparkly dark button eyes peeking through her cottony face. Needless to say,  Roxy will go where the good doggies go. My sympathy to her family.