This unholy hour--I reached it and instead of sleeping through it, I woke up in it and got stuck in it. Now I'm worried about how much light from the blue end of the spectrum is burning into my brain, telling me it's time to get up, when it's not.
I doubt I'm going to solve any problems tonight, with no feedback and no reality check. I don't think I could find reality right now. Not the rosy version of it, anyway. Just the blue-light one.
Saturday, February 17, 2018
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
Thoughts on Real Estate
Just thinking out loud about my plans to buy a house. It's becoming problematic. The trouble seems to be that I have a lease here, and after some discrete inquiries I have learned that the leasing office is pretty hardcore when it comes to dealing with people who want to break their leases. These management companies are like that--every lease term, the rent WILL go up, the parking spaces will cost a little more, complaints will be handled in the way typical of all "third party affiliates," that is, there is not a whole lot of accountability, and lease agreements are steadfastly adhered to. Well, can't blame'em. Leasing management has become quite an industry, and I guess this sort of bottom-line approach is how they sell their product to property owners.
And of course when buying a house, especially in a seller's market where there is not enough inventory to go around, it's a tremendous advantage to be able to "jump" on a deal. You have to compete quite aggressively with other buyers, but the only way I can jump on a deal is to be willing to make mortgage payments and rent payments simultaneously for some period of months. Right now, that is a pretty steep price to pay.
On the other hand, this means I'm not really in a hurry, which can be an advantage in itself. House prices aren't going up so fast that having to wait is going to wind up costing. On yet another hand, at some point, I would like to switch to a month-to-month lease agreement. Given the thumbscrew business strategy of these rental managers, this is sometimes possible if you agree to pay a higher price per month.
At this point, I think the only realistic plan might be to buy a house outright (meaning it would have to cost considerably less, of course,) possibly one that needs a little rehab work that could be completed before my lease term here is up. This would keep me from making double-payments, (rent and mortgage) anyway, and I would also be getting a house at a discount, whatever I buy, since it needs some work.
I don't really care for this sort of thing. I'd rather be bored silly than deal with this.
And of course when buying a house, especially in a seller's market where there is not enough inventory to go around, it's a tremendous advantage to be able to "jump" on a deal. You have to compete quite aggressively with other buyers, but the only way I can jump on a deal is to be willing to make mortgage payments and rent payments simultaneously for some period of months. Right now, that is a pretty steep price to pay.
On the other hand, this means I'm not really in a hurry, which can be an advantage in itself. House prices aren't going up so fast that having to wait is going to wind up costing. On yet another hand, at some point, I would like to switch to a month-to-month lease agreement. Given the thumbscrew business strategy of these rental managers, this is sometimes possible if you agree to pay a higher price per month.
At this point, I think the only realistic plan might be to buy a house outright (meaning it would have to cost considerably less, of course,) possibly one that needs a little rehab work that could be completed before my lease term here is up. This would keep me from making double-payments, (rent and mortgage) anyway, and I would also be getting a house at a discount, whatever I buy, since it needs some work.
I don't really care for this sort of thing. I'd rather be bored silly than deal with this.
Monday, February 12, 2018
Winter's Plod
It really has been too long a winter so far. Here it is, not quite Valentine's Day, and spring technically four weeks away--I say technically because, around here, anything can happen, and you only hope that whatever does happen falls withing the boundaries of a statistically reasonable expectation. I look out my window and see the Missouri River slowly oozing by, ice-choked with crumbly-edged round floes of frozen Missouri River water. Again, technically, probably not really water, per se. At any rate, this can all go away any time now.
All that said, I look forward to the coming of warmer weather with just a bit of trepidation. I remember that freakishly warm November afternoon, just a few days after I moved into my new loft, when a few of the five air conditioner compressor units on the roof right above me kicked on for a couple hours and one or more of them hummed loudly and vibrated enough to make the beams in my loft vibrate, and all this causing a sort of harmonic to stand inside my skull, causing me to hear voices giving me instructions . . . no, I'm kidding. But, almost. I couldn't live with that. It stopped after the sun went down, and as far as I know, no one's a/c has kicked on since. But they will. Oh, yes, they will.
A side note to the observant reader: yes, I discovered a fast, easy way to change the font to italic in the Google blogger composition window, and I have been overusing it. What of it?
Here's what happens today. It is the self-proclaimed Roy's Pancake Day, the weekly event which entails traveling east a few miles to the thriving burg of Independence, Missouri, to the Englewood Cafe and have two pancakes and eggs and sausage. Like almost every small business in Independence, the Englewood Cafe has been open for business since about World War II, and I think still maintains three of the original employees, whose names should be Mamie, Dolores, and Ethel. The rest of the staff are heavily tattooed, except for Denise, who doesn't own a computer.
After that, I hope to go to the DMV. I like the Independence DMV mostly because it is big and there is seldom a super-long wait. I don't even know where the Kansas City DMV is, which is due, most likely, to the fact that they don't advertise their location. I was encourage via postcard to get my tags online, but I couldn't/didn't want to do that because I just moved to Missouri and I anticipate a glitch in the coming process. Not sure what, just a glitch. I base this angst-fueled expectation on lots of past experience.
After that, if it's not time for supper, perhaps do a few real estate drive-bys. I haven't heard from my realtor lately, but I have been looking in Independence for a house. The most encouraging thing about the real estate market in Independence is that the house prices haven't gone up too much. In Kansas City there has been a surge--it is a "seller's market" and every time a house comes on the market, it either sells in twenty-seven minutes, or it turns out it was built on either an Indian burial ground, or an abandoned underground spent plutonium fuel-rod storage facility. Honestly, I don't know which is worse.
So, since I slept in this morning and the morning threatens to slip through my fingers once again, I best be going.
All that said, I look forward to the coming of warmer weather with just a bit of trepidation. I remember that freakishly warm November afternoon, just a few days after I moved into my new loft, when a few of the five air conditioner compressor units on the roof right above me kicked on for a couple hours and one or more of them hummed loudly and vibrated enough to make the beams in my loft vibrate, and all this causing a sort of harmonic to stand inside my skull, causing me to hear voices giving me instructions . . . no, I'm kidding. But, almost. I couldn't live with that. It stopped after the sun went down, and as far as I know, no one's a/c has kicked on since. But they will. Oh, yes, they will.
A side note to the observant reader: yes, I discovered a fast, easy way to change the font to italic in the Google blogger composition window, and I have been overusing it. What of it?
Here's what happens today. It is the self-proclaimed Roy's Pancake Day, the weekly event which entails traveling east a few miles to the thriving burg of Independence, Missouri, to the Englewood Cafe and have two pancakes and eggs and sausage. Like almost every small business in Independence, the Englewood Cafe has been open for business since about World War II, and I think still maintains three of the original employees, whose names should be Mamie, Dolores, and Ethel. The rest of the staff are heavily tattooed, except for Denise, who doesn't own a computer.
After that, I hope to go to the DMV. I like the Independence DMV mostly because it is big and there is seldom a super-long wait. I don't even know where the Kansas City DMV is, which is due, most likely, to the fact that they don't advertise their location. I was encourage via postcard to get my tags online, but I couldn't/didn't want to do that because I just moved to Missouri and I anticipate a glitch in the coming process. Not sure what, just a glitch. I base this angst-fueled expectation on lots of past experience.
After that, if it's not time for supper, perhaps do a few real estate drive-bys. I haven't heard from my realtor lately, but I have been looking in Independence for a house. The most encouraging thing about the real estate market in Independence is that the house prices haven't gone up too much. In Kansas City there has been a surge--it is a "seller's market" and every time a house comes on the market, it either sells in twenty-seven minutes, or it turns out it was built on either an Indian burial ground, or an abandoned underground spent plutonium fuel-rod storage facility. Honestly, I don't know which is worse.
So, since I slept in this morning and the morning threatens to slip through my fingers once again, I best be going.
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Apartment Living
Who watches TV at 7:38 in the morning?
Which leads me to my main point here. The first apartment I lived in after selling my house was good in some ways, bad in others. There was very little sunlight, and the woodwork in the place, it having been built some time in the Twenties, was dark, as was the stain of the hardwood floors. I felt like I was living in a cave. On the bright side, though, the neighbors were quiet. I didn't think of that as I decided to find another place. This time, a loft. A nice, sunny, airy loft. Sure the rent was several hundred dollars more, but it would be worth it, I thought.
I don't mean to type out a list of all the things about this apartment that are annoying. There IS a view, of the Missouri River, and I can watch trains go by and airplanes taking off and landing at the smallish municipal Kansas City downtown airport. And I can walk out the front of the building and around the corner and catch the street car downtown. That is handy, I'll grant.
But my neighbors. They are mostly Millennials, I think--I haven't seen a soul around here. Maybe once in awhile in passing. They are mostly loud. Being young, they get drunk on weekends and get a little louder. They have no sense of the etiquette of apartment living, choosing, instead, to act just like they did when they lived with Mom a couple months ago.
I guess it's my age. It's unsettling to hear muffled male voices whooping and hollering nearby. There is a certain aggressiveness to the tone. I should know. I did all that. A long, long fucking time ago.
Now at this point, I will mention only briefly the thing about the air conditioner units on the roof. I am on the top floor. There are, according to my careful scrutiny of said roof on Google Satellite View, five such units right above me. On the other side of a relatively thin roof. They are loud, and they vibrate. So far, there has been only one day warm enough to cause people to turn on their A/Cs. It was a freakishly warm afternoon in late November. The humming, throbbing, buzzing noise seemed to be coming from inside my skull, rendering this loft apartment, in my humble opinion, totally uninhabitable. The weather cooled later that night. The A/Cs went off and haven't been back on again so far, as winter progresses. I complained to the management about the noise, someone came by and lamely dismissed the problem, couldn't duplicate it, or some such.I will have to wait until the weather warms and it starts up again so the maintenance people can figure out what is going on. I am not optimistic.
And this is all just leading me to my main main point, which is that I've been looking at real estate. Again. Now that the glitter has rubbed off the apartment living thing, it's easy to see how much money I could save by buying a house, either outright or with the help of a small loan. Either way, principle and interest, and/or taxes and insurance would be roughly half, or less, of what I pay in rent. I have to have at least a rough plan to live a couple more decades--a long enough time that I could conceivably run out of money if I don't start watching it. That would suck.
Now, that was my main point. To set myself up for more blog posts in which I whine and pule about the real estate market. Lots of fodder there. But it gives me something to do. And it's fun to think about one day washing my car in my driveway. It really needs it.
Which leads me to my main point here. The first apartment I lived in after selling my house was good in some ways, bad in others. There was very little sunlight, and the woodwork in the place, it having been built some time in the Twenties, was dark, as was the stain of the hardwood floors. I felt like I was living in a cave. On the bright side, though, the neighbors were quiet. I didn't think of that as I decided to find another place. This time, a loft. A nice, sunny, airy loft. Sure the rent was several hundred dollars more, but it would be worth it, I thought.
I don't mean to type out a list of all the things about this apartment that are annoying. There IS a view, of the Missouri River, and I can watch trains go by and airplanes taking off and landing at the smallish municipal Kansas City downtown airport. And I can walk out the front of the building and around the corner and catch the street car downtown. That is handy, I'll grant.
But my neighbors. They are mostly Millennials, I think--I haven't seen a soul around here. Maybe once in awhile in passing. They are mostly loud. Being young, they get drunk on weekends and get a little louder. They have no sense of the etiquette of apartment living, choosing, instead, to act just like they did when they lived with Mom a couple months ago.
I guess it's my age. It's unsettling to hear muffled male voices whooping and hollering nearby. There is a certain aggressiveness to the tone. I should know. I did all that. A long, long fucking time ago.
Now at this point, I will mention only briefly the thing about the air conditioner units on the roof. I am on the top floor. There are, according to my careful scrutiny of said roof on Google Satellite View, five such units right above me. On the other side of a relatively thin roof. They are loud, and they vibrate. So far, there has been only one day warm enough to cause people to turn on their A/Cs. It was a freakishly warm afternoon in late November. The humming, throbbing, buzzing noise seemed to be coming from inside my skull, rendering this loft apartment, in my humble opinion, totally uninhabitable. The weather cooled later that night. The A/Cs went off and haven't been back on again so far, as winter progresses. I complained to the management about the noise, someone came by and lamely dismissed the problem, couldn't duplicate it, or some such.I will have to wait until the weather warms and it starts up again so the maintenance people can figure out what is going on. I am not optimistic.
And this is all just leading me to my main main point, which is that I've been looking at real estate. Again. Now that the glitter has rubbed off the apartment living thing, it's easy to see how much money I could save by buying a house, either outright or with the help of a small loan. Either way, principle and interest, and/or taxes and insurance would be roughly half, or less, of what I pay in rent. I have to have at least a rough plan to live a couple more decades--a long enough time that I could conceivably run out of money if I don't start watching it. That would suck.
Now, that was my main point. To set myself up for more blog posts in which I whine and pule about the real estate market. Lots of fodder there. But it gives me something to do. And it's fun to think about one day washing my car in my driveway. It really needs it.
Friday, July 7, 2017
This Day and Age
Getting old sucks. We all know that. Maybe. The biggest revelation for me, as I have aged, is the idea that I am actually the same, and always have been. I just have more aches and pains, and I'm more tired, and less alert, and there is a ringing in my right ear. Plus my muscles don't work as well as they used to, and it takes longer to "get in shape," and once in shape, it takes less time to lose it. Oh and the hair thing. But inside, I'm still the same. I'm actually no smarter--perhaps wiser, but that is open to debate. It seems like I have a little more information, and my approach to things has changed a bit. You might attribute that last to wisdom, but a good case could be made for it being preservation of energy.
I'm grumpy. The world hasn't really changed that much since that time where my memory seems to have started. Let's say, 1957. I was seven then. Details were different, but I think pretty much the world was the same. Certainly in North America, we all lived in a bubble--the Golden Age of America, where it was probably wonderful to be a white Christian male. I don't know. I was only seven. Seems to me, though, that the nonsense has gotten worse. Denser. Back then, we really did talk about stuff like how advertising was invading our perceived world, how TV commercials were a bad thing. I mean, we weren't stupid. But now? Good God. If one is "plugged in" at all, tons and tons of advertising come with that. Just glancing at a Facebook page or the main page of the CNN website (or any news site at all) probably pulls in hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of ads from various places on the Internet. The Internet is no doubt the all-time busiest and most pervasive advertising medium of the history of the Earth. We really don't stand a chance. At least in 1957, you bought a TV and got the broadcast waves for free. Well, technically, if you don't count the commercials. Now, we pay for Internet access, don't we? We pay, and pay. And then we can barely navigate around ads in order to read stuff on the Internet. And it's not stuff. It's "content." The word came into use because there had to be some sort of distinction, I suppose, between real information via writing, and just lots of words so that the page you were looking at could have a purported purpose other than just to deliver ads to your computer monitor.
Well, I guess I could go on and on, but it seems like too much work. Suffice it to say, in closing, that with age I have become more selective about how I expend the energy that I have. Turns out, most stuff in the world is pretty easy, once you just relax and do just the things that are really necessary. I think the fun thing about being young is that you could squander your energy. Because, you know, the things you "have to do" are not the fun things.
Well God forbid anyone reads this, I readily acknowledge that it's not good, but this is just to get my writing mojo back. I'll post this just so I can look at it later.
I'm grumpy. The world hasn't really changed that much since that time where my memory seems to have started. Let's say, 1957. I was seven then. Details were different, but I think pretty much the world was the same. Certainly in North America, we all lived in a bubble--the Golden Age of America, where it was probably wonderful to be a white Christian male. I don't know. I was only seven. Seems to me, though, that the nonsense has gotten worse. Denser. Back then, we really did talk about stuff like how advertising was invading our perceived world, how TV commercials were a bad thing. I mean, we weren't stupid. But now? Good God. If one is "plugged in" at all, tons and tons of advertising come with that. Just glancing at a Facebook page or the main page of the CNN website (or any news site at all) probably pulls in hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of ads from various places on the Internet. The Internet is no doubt the all-time busiest and most pervasive advertising medium of the history of the Earth. We really don't stand a chance. At least in 1957, you bought a TV and got the broadcast waves for free. Well, technically, if you don't count the commercials. Now, we pay for Internet access, don't we? We pay, and pay. And then we can barely navigate around ads in order to read stuff on the Internet. And it's not stuff. It's "content." The word came into use because there had to be some sort of distinction, I suppose, between real information via writing, and just lots of words so that the page you were looking at could have a purported purpose other than just to deliver ads to your computer monitor.
Well, I guess I could go on and on, but it seems like too much work. Suffice it to say, in closing, that with age I have become more selective about how I expend the energy that I have. Turns out, most stuff in the world is pretty easy, once you just relax and do just the things that are really necessary. I think the fun thing about being young is that you could squander your energy. Because, you know, the things you "have to do" are not the fun things.
Well God forbid anyone reads this, I readily acknowledge that it's not good, but this is just to get my writing mojo back. I'll post this just so I can look at it later.
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