Tools of the trade

When it comes to tools of the trade as a realtor, my life is pretty simple. I need keys.

It’s a great system, those shiny metal objects that dangle from a key ring. Sometimes the temperamental ones that don’t quite fit the lock must be jiggled. Others are hidden in the plastic doggie-do or stashed high in the air out of reach. Yet through all of that, I understand how they work. The world unfortunately has become hi-tech, and so has the system for holding keys.

Last week I was summoned to a meeting in Pennsylvania to purchase my brand-new key pad. I listened while I learned how to use this new gadget. It’s state of the art and the size of my palm. When activated, it will unlock the key holder, send off a signal to the listing agent and copy my home computer, which it does for a mere $160 a year. Oh, and hey, they have added to it a little flashlight.

Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? Well, there is a catch. It reads its data off cell phone signals. If it falls out of cell range for 15 minutes, it will shut down.

“Not a problem,” the sales guy told me. Simply call the special number from your cell and they can turn it on again from the main center.

Obviously this company has no clue as to what it’s like to work along the Delaware River corridor. When the cell signal goes away so will my cell phone.

There is no way that I was going to test this out while I was on a real appointment, so I planned a dress rehearsal for my Sunday appointment. The house that I was showing is in Equinunk, a mere 38 minutes from my office.

I checked the signal when I arrived at the Kellems Bridge. It was gone. Oops, big surprise, as I watched “Dial Code” appear on the key pad screen. I headed back to the office, and then to Eldred, where I was able to pick up a signal in the Peck’s Market parking lot.

I took a moment and dialed the special number that is, no doubt, in some far-away land.

“Is this Deone Bootler?”

I give her my correct spelling, secret number, password, billing address, mothers maiden name and location of my first-born male child’s birth mark, after which she told me that I had 15 minutes to make it to the house before the system shut itself off again.

I asked her if there is any way to extend the turn-off time.

“Sorry Meese Bootler,” you must be mistaken, since you can get cell service everywhere in the world.

Basically, if I were riding a camel across the desert, my key pad would work—but not along the Delaware River.

So, for my appointment today I am bringing a nice shiny key that the listing agent supplied me. I might use the hi-tech flashlight, which becomes a real bargain at $160 a year. Guess I’ll just have to stick with plain old shiny keys.

-Diane Butler