REMEMBERING LUCILLE

On the Wednesday evening of January 24, 2001, my good friend, Lucille Almir died of cancer. This was not completely unexpected because I first discovered that she was sick when I delivered her presents on Christmas Day. That was also the last time I saw her, although I also spoke her by telephone on January 4th.

Lucille was my "Landlady" but that was only part of our relationship. She was my friend before and after she was my Landlady. She made an apartment a home as well and she was the best neighbor one could hope for. At a time when many property owners won't allow pets on their property, she not only permitted cats, but would feed and take care of mine whenever I went out of town. In return for the kitty- sitting, I would bring her gifts that had to do with cats. She was crazy about cats. There will be a picture somewhere near this story of her wearing a T-shirt with cats eyes and whiskers on it. Lucille also liked dogs as I reported in Rent Board Story No. 1 which is reprinted below.

THE LITTLE LANDLADY AND THE POOR CARDIOLOGIST

Once upon a time, there lived a little landlady named Lucille, who walked a friendly black dog as big as herself along the lanes in the village of Santa Monica. She lived in the apartment house her father built in the year 1947, and rented rooms to landless peasants. By the 1978 she was renting one of those apartments for $180 per month.

And it came to pass that in the year 1979 Hayden the Hun took the village by vote, and controlled all the rents making the little landlords pay tribute to his Rent Board forcing them to continue doing more business for less money. In this way people who were not so were protected from landlords who came by their wealth honestly rather than by marrying rich maidens who became wealthy entertaining the peasants with exercise videotapes, as did Hayden the Hun, who was also known as Tommy Turncoat.

One day, Lucille the Landlady came upon a poor (i.e. unfortunate) cardiologist from New York who had no place to live. ( In New York there are never enough places to live for some reason) Lucille had a vacancy, so she fixed up the unit, supplied furnishings and rented it to the cardiologist for $495 per month. This seemed like a good bargain for everyone until, at the end of a year, the cardiologist turned into a beast, and began demanding tribute for helping him. ( He said, "Let no good deed go unpunished!") As soon as Lucille found out that she was in trouble, she offered to pay the cardiologist over $3,700, which was the approximate difference between what was paid and what the rent control law allowed her to charge. But this amount did not please the cardiologist, who hired an attorney who knew rent control law well. This was because the attorney was also the Board's first senior attorney, who had only recently retired from the Board to pursue pirate practice. (sic., but accurate)

The cardiologist and the attorney decided that they wanted about $3,780 plus three times more ($11,649.55) plus interest of $309.55. And when the Lucille did not pay fast enough, they turned her in to the Rent Board authorities. However, at the Rent Board Hearing, the Hearing Inquisitor took pity on the little landlady and awarded $3,926 to the cardiologist, but not three times more (treble damages). This displeased the tenant and his attorney greatly, and they appealed to the whole Rent Board so that the attorney could reason with his friends and colleagues and thereby increase the plunder to three times more.

When the matter was heard, not all of the Commissars wanted to give the cardiologist three times more loot. Rent Control Commissars Finkel and Stone thought that there was something slightly unfair about robbing the poor to give to the rich. But Commissar Susan Davis disagreed and argued that just because the tenant was a cardiologist, he was not necessarily rich. (She actually said " We can't make a presumption that somebody has a degree-- I happen to be a lawyer and I am not wealthy. And I know there are lots of doctors that aren't either. So I make that point.")

So the Board decided that it was unfair to charge a cardiologist (who was not necessarily rich) any more rent than $180 per month. And the landlady was supposed to either pay him $11,649.55 or allow him to live rent free for more than five years, whichever came out worst.

But a short time later, Judge John King Cole of Superior Court found that the Board was the arbitrary and capricious work of rascals and threw out the harsh punishment. And a short time after that, a municipal court judge threw out the harsh rascal (i,e, the poor cardiologist had to leave.) So if you go to the village of Santa Monica and see a little landlady named Lucille, stop and say "Hello". Maybe she will tell how Santa Monica came to be populated by poor doctors, brokers and attorneys.

Or you could go to the Rent Board and tell them that you want to read Rent Board Story C-1624.

J.L. Jacobson
November 2, 1993