Inspired by Milan and RedBird: A short story [Bonus Article]

Striving for the best, or at least what you believe is the best, can make you do funny things.

Imagine the following scenario. One day, you come across a newly renovated house that is up for sale. You call the real estate agent to ask for more information, and as it turns out, the owner is an old friend of yours. It’s been years since you last saw each other, but there is a mutual respect between the two of you. Conversation flows and you sense that something good could be on the cards.

You’re desperate to leave your apartment days behind and quickly initiate talks with the bank. Sadly, it becomes clear that your financial situation isn’t strong enough to take on such a big mortgage. But that friend of yours, he’s a good guy. He agrees to let you pay half of the fee at a later date, assuming that you will eventually be good for the money. After just a few months, the deal goes ahead, and you move in.

At first, life is good. Your family is growing, success is coming your way, and the neighbours are cheering you on. The gardener, let’s call him Paolo, honours his contract with the old owner and helps you settle in with all of his experience. But something doesn’t feel right. You start to realise that the house isn’t really you. That despite all its great features, you think there is something better out there.

Before you know it, you decide to demolish the house and to build something else completely from scratch. This time, you’re going to put your stamp on it! A few weeks later, the house is torn down and you immediately see the potential of the land. Thousands of ideas are running through your head. A pool in the backyard, solar panels on the roof, and maybe even fibre optics for the whole neighbourhood!

You tell your gardener Paolo, just in case you forgot the name, that his services will no longer be needed. It feels like an innocent decision, but his reaction - as well as those of the neighbours - suggests you may have made a mistake. “My family has been working here for generations,” Paolo mutters before gracefully shaking your hand, opting for early retirement. There is both anticipation and worry in the air.

You find an expensive architect to fulfil your dream, even though you still haven’t paid back your old friend, and a construction company agrees to do the work. Now you’re truly walking on the moon. Work begins and at first, everything seems to be going according to plan. You decide to go on an extended holiday to get your family away from construction, leaving everything with the project manager. Let’s call him Giorgio.

The weeks go by and you don’t hear much, until one day, Giorgio calls and sounds like he has been through hell. Turns out, the neighbours are furious with how poorly the work has been done. Banging late into the night, vegetation torn to shreds by the machinery, and so on. On top of that, you find out that the first construction company bailed, albeit quickly replaced by another one.

Fortunately, you somehow manage to persuade the bank, with a little help from the architects, that the mortgage should be increased solely based on the potential. With the additional money, you pay back your old friend (who has grown increasingly frustrated with your decisions) and start getting on top of the construction bills. Live to fight another day, as they say.

You decide to cut the holiday short to get control of the situation, driving into the neighbourhood in what can almost be described as a walk of shame. Giorgio greets you at the door and just by the sheer look of the place, you consider sacking him on the spot. The conditions are clearly not livable and there is no finishing date in sight, all the while the list of problems just seems to be getting longer.

Does the construction company need to be replaced again to speed up the process? Are the plans from the architects even good enough to begin with? Could you have used the diplomatic skills of the gardener to calm down the neighbourhood? You don’t really have the experience to answer these questions properly. Neither does your project manager, as has become evident, so who can you turn to?

You send your family to the cheapest hotel in town, leaving you to ponder your next moves for a project that, admittedly, has got out of hand. That Starbucks coffee you bought at the airport is lukewarm at this point, but beggars can’t be choosers. One sip and a disgruntled face from your next-door neighbour is all it takes to yearn for the past. When times weren’t always great, but always good.