Once upon a time, you "walked in" for real estate services. A pleasant face greeted you. You had questions; helpful people had answers. It was simple, friendly, and it worked. You called, someone answered. You were handled, not routed through some invisible air traffic system waiting for a faceless controller to pick you up a day later with a response. The Realtor was once a servant, performing the heavy lifting and attending to the smallest details. Making sense of things. Clients were afforded the luxury of being serviced. They were unencumbered by the minutia of the process. When I was young we spent time huddled around the kitchen table -- eating, talking, dreaming. Back then, the only box we all stared into was the Ebinger's cake box, pale green with brown cr...
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