AT LEAST THE SUNSHINE'S FREE: A friend of The Skinny recently
had a rather distasteful experience with Civano, the so-called
"solar village."
"I fell in love with Civano a long time ago," he says,
adding he's occasionally driven out to the far, far southeast
side over the last couple of years to monitor progress at the
supposedly eco-friendly project. He was even on the Civano "pioneers
list," which entitled him to receive mail about how wonderfully
special the place is supposed to be.
Our buddy's got a growing family and his current condo is just
too cramped these days, so a few weeks ago he figured a move to
Civano would be the perfect solution.
"I was an Air Force brat," he says. "We moved
from base to base when I was a kid. We had no stability. More
than anything, I want my son to grow up someplace really special.
That's why we were looking at Civano."
Turns out, he was staring at a marketing mirage.
He really wanted the special house built out of the innovative
plastic foam block filled with rebar and fancy grout--a super
well-insulated home, thanks to the space-age material. But that
was about $30,000 or so more than a similar stick-built model.
So he settled for conventional construction.
At this point, he says, "We still wanted to live in Civano.
We still wanted to be part of this grand experiment."
So he and his wife and the Civano sales agent chose a lovely
site for a home and began the paperwork.
They pre-qualified for a $128,000 mortgage and the house they
selected was roughly $109,000, which meant about $800 or so a
month for a payment--"No problem," says our friend.
Ah, but then the sales agent mentioned the association fee--$45
a month.
"Well, you gotta pay for the things you gotta pay for,"
our friend thought. "That's not much to take care of landscaping,
pools, tennis courts and such." Never mind that he's been
a member of such an association before, and he knew that when
the developer pulls out, the association fee is likely to double.
He figured what the hell--he and the Mrs. had already picked
their house, chosen their lot, figured out the way their home
would be oriented, and contemplated the view. They'd driven out
to Civano several times on the weekends, dreaming about how their
wonderful new place would look and feel.
But then the sales agent brought up the little matter of the
"lot premium."
Our friend recalls, "The lady says, 'You've bought the house,
but not the land. Houses and land we sell separately.' "
His heart sank. As a school teacher, he must keep his monthly
payments relatively low. This unexpected surcharge put him over
the top.
"And after we've gone through all the picking and choosing,
and we've fallen in love with this place," he says, "I'm
sitting there thinking, 'Jesus Christ, I can't get in here.' "
Sadly, he told the sales agent the only way they could buy under
those circumstances would be if the developer waived the lot fee.
Our friend and his wife went home pretty discouraged.
"And guess what?" he says, "the next day the lady
calls us to say the developer would waive the fee. Apparently
this practice has met with a lot of resistance, and they've since
stopped it."
So our friend and his wife went happily back to the Civano sales
office.
They'd about concluded all the paperwork, when the agent said,
"Oh, there's one more thing. The developer wants you to have
a tax benefit."
A what? our friend thought.
"The developer has gotten some money from the City of Tucson
and has put in roads and other infrastructure," the sales
agent explained. "But he didn't want to keep all of the tax
advantage for himself. So he's decided to create a municipal
improvement district."
Translation: Civano homeowners are expected to pay for infrastructure
costs. In our pal's case, that would have been roughly $65-$75
a month amortized over 20 years.
"Of course this payment is tax deductible," the agent
said, adding she couldn't tell him if part or all of it would
be deductible in his case. She advised him to check with his accountant.
"I'm a schoolteacher!" he says incredulously. "I
can't afford an accountant!"
But by then our friend's blood was at full boil. "They made
it sound like this wonderful thing the developer wants to share.
How dumb do they think I am?
"And they don't tell you this stuff until they've got you
hooked," he says, a touch of anger creeping into his voice.
"They don't tell you until you're in love with the place.
That's the way they work."
He says he "felt violated when she threw that out there.
I know there's a sucker born every minute, but I'm not one."
He and his wife stormed out of the office for good. Now they're
planning to buy an existing home in town--the most environmentally
friendly move anyone could make.
And how does he feel about Civano now?
"I'd seen the little things they've done," he says.
"How they were going to be the 'solar village,' and how they
backed away from that. I saw them build those houses with the
fake vigas, designed to look like homes in New Mexico where the
poles hold up the roof. But at Civano they put the roof on the
house and then punch holes in the wall and put the vigas in purely
for decoration--at $100 a pop. They're just another option, fake
vigas.
"I kept wanting to be a believer, but then I realized this
is just another developer. They don't care. This whole 'alternative
lifestyle,' this 'be part of something new,' it's just a marketing
scheme. These guys are no different than any other major developer.
For months they created this wonderful illusion, and then they
kicked me between the legs."
Ouch.
CAMPAIGN CHATTER: Ramon "Ray" Castillo is now
a rerun. Castillo, who served one term on the City Council ending
in 1973, has filed papers to challenge first-term Democrat José
Ibarra in westside Ward 1. Castillo, 62, served with a group
of funny and smart Republicans, including the late Bob Royal
and the late Mike Borozan.
An El Paso native, Castillo arrived in Tucson 41 years ago when
he was stationed at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base. He has sold
insurance for the last 37 years, including 35 years for State
Farm. Castillo bounced back from a near-fatal accident in 1988
when he was struck by a car while vacationing in Australia.
Castillo will need to collect signatures from at least 118 registered
Ward 1 Republicans by June 24. A tough man to beat, Ibarra is
scarcely daunted by would-be royalty. In 1995 he sent a trio of
reruns packing in the crowded primary that included former Councilmen
Rudy Bejarano and Ruben Romero and former state
Sen. Luis Gonzales.
In the mayor's race, three-term Ward 2 Councilwoman Janet
Marcus, who has plodded along with lackluster performances
at recent forums, says she has "no intention"
of pulling out of the Democratic primary. Political flies were
swarming over Marcus, buzzing that she would drop out in deference
to outgoing Mayor George Miller's leading lady, Betsy
Bolding. "I'm barreling along," Marcus says. "I'm
working on those signatures."
Meanwhile, Democrat Pat Darcy, the commercial real-estate
agent and former Cincinnati Reds pitcher, is emerging after a
protracted delay. He signed a city matching-funds contract on
Friday, May 21. Darcy, a member of the City Parks and Recreation
Commission, has been warming up to the idea of a mayoral campaign
for years, but he's a little late getting out of the bullpen.
The Democratic line-up is led by former two-term Councilwoman
Molly McKasson. Bus driver Paul Wallace and retired
teacher Emily Machala are fringe candidates on the crowded
Democratic ticket. Former Hughes-Raytheon executive Robert
Walkup is the lone Republican.
UTILITY PLAYER: In an informative article about the unknown
fate of Arizona Corporation Commissioner Tony West, the
Star's Alan D. Fischer outlined the possible scenarios
should West be removed from office by the Supreme Court. Since
former Commissioner Renz Jennings filed a legal challenge
to West's eligibility for the office, much of the Commission's
business is in limbo awaiting the Court's decision.
Under the heading "Remote, but possible" Fischer has
the Supreme Court not only removing West, but naming his successor,
possibly choosing either his Democrat opponent, Paul Newman,
or former Commissioner Jennings, who's also a Democrat. While
we concur that the chances of the Court going beyond his removal
and naming a successor are "remote," we would again
point out that under Arizona law, those appointed to vacancies
must be from the same political party as those elected. We would
expect that the Supreme Court would honor that provision.
BLANCK CHECK: On top of--and loosely related to--the investigation
of a payroll kickback scheme comes the investigation of the head
of internal medicine at Pima County's Kino Community Hospital.
The Pima County Attorney's Office is investigating whether
Dr. Charles Blanck wrote fake prescriptions in 1997
for Kino nurses and technicians, who would then kick back part
of the narcotics. Blanck reported himself to the state Board of
Medical Examiners in July 1997 for drug and booze rehab and monitoring.
That case remains open.
Blanck is the personal doc for Supervisor Raul Grijalva,
the Democrat canonized recently by The Arizona Daily Star as
the patron saint of the county health system. The Star's Joe
Burchell broke the Blanck story last week. He forced readers
to get to the 22nd paragraph to learn that Blanck, a well-liked
doc who was named one of the top public-hospital doctors a couple
of years ago, is also Grijalva's doctor. That would have been
the lead and headline had Blanck been the doctor for someone the
Star didn't like, such as Ed Moore or Dan Eckstrom. Grijalva
and the Board of Supervisors approved a $1.064 million contract
with Blanck and his group of five other doctors in June 1997.
There were other connections the Star glossed over. Blanck's
boss, County Health Czar Dr. Richard Carmona, has been
on the Board of Medical Examiners for about a year. And the Kino
Community Hospital Board Chairman Michael Rollins--who,
along with Carmona, has been in a tiff with the umbrella Health
Care Commission board headed by Grijalva ally Sylvia Campoy--is
also one of Carmona's personal lawyers.
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