I wanted to give all our Ogle Moles, commenters, readers and haters a heads-up that we’re tightening our membership paywall restrictions across the site. Yep, that’s right. We’re going full capitalist on you! Well, kind of. Effective immediately, most – if not all – of our new TLO content will remain free for 24 hours […]
Last week, Chesapeake Energy – the once-proud natural gas giant that’s now a shell of what it was during its raging Ponzi scheme days – announced it laid off another 15% of its staff. According to The Oklahoman_, most of the layoffs – 220 total – affected the Oklahoma City campus.
Back in the good old days, when Chesapeake layoffs were still a big breaking news item that we’d scoop the local media on, we’d follow RIF reports by playing a game of Hate The Rich, and take a sneering peek at Chesapeake CEO Doug Lawler’s opulent Oak Tree mansion. We did this because it’s always fun to point out that while Chesapeake was struggling and people were losing their jobs, the privileged elites who ran the company were still making out like bandits.
When we last checked on Lawler Manor in 2015, the 14,000-sq-foot home had an appraised taxable market value of $4.15-million – nearly $400,000 higher than the $3.75-million purchase price Lawler paid in 2013. As a result, Lawler paid $48K in property taxes that primarily went to fund public schools and other county services.
During this era of rising property values across the metro, we thought it would be fun to check out the home and see how much it’s worth today. To our surprise, it hasn’t increased at all. In fact, the taxable market value on the crib has actually dropped by over $1-million, slashing Lawler’s property taxes by approximately 25%!
Check out this screenshot from the Oklahoma County Assessor website:
The old house that sits at 2416 NW 23rd Street is something of an aged relic from my blemished past. You see, for a couple of years in the late 1990s, a high-school acquaintance of mine turned the place into a coffee shop and I hosted an open mic night for them. While I had no idea what I was doing, at least I made a few friends and always had a few cups of coffee when I was there.
Returning to that same address last week, I didn’t really know what to expect from the now-christened Pupuseria Mi Chalateca, but, as I entered the storefront and found a seat in the small building for myself, I somehow returned to that old coffee shop as the waiter brought me a steaming cup of El Salvadorean brew—and it was simplemente maravilloso.