Tuesday


25
May 21

When everything is too valuable, there’s no value

“I’m going for a walk,” she said just as I came in and sat down. “You’re welcome to go, too, of course.”

Of course I am. Because it’s a free country and all of the outdoors is pretty big and because she likes my company.

Only I’d just gotten in, set my things down, emptied my books and took off my shoes and I was in that first 20 seconds of re-enjoying a comfortable chair experience.

“There’s a house a few neighborhoods over that went on the market, and I want to see it. They listed it at $700,000.”

Which was intriguing enough.

So we walked a few neighborhoods over. It’s similar to ours, but thankfully not ours. It’s a five bedroom house. There’s a small pool. Two-car garage. Brick and siding exterior. Quiet neighborhood. Trees and sidewalks and a driveway and all of that. Newly updated most everything, according to the listing.

It is not a $700,000 house, at least in any rational world.

Let’s look at the pricing history of the house.

In the early spring of 2012 it went on the market for $359,500. In June of that same year it came off the market. It went back up again in April of 2015, now at $399,900. The price was lowered several times, until it finally sold in July or August of 2015 at $379,900.

In March of 2017, it went back up again, listed this time at $409,900. Less than three weeks later, they lowered the price. Three more weeks, another reduction. And they removed the listing, now at $389,900, in July of that same year.

Now, a word about this market. It’s wacky, even in the best of times. Purchases are often seasonal, based on academic schedules, and you apparently have to act fast, even when there isn’t a crunch. When we came up to shop for houses the majority of what we picked out in the days and a week or two before were off the market by the time we got here. Ultimately, we got perhaps our top realistic choice — everyone has that one they’d try to rationalize over-extending for, right? — and only then because the timing was just, just so precisely right. Another day, either side, it might not have worked out.

Also, and this is important, we don’t have a $700,000 house.

And if I was somehow interested in buying a house for $700,000, I would want a little more space in the yard and privacy as opposed to what this little quaint neighborhood domicile will provide. Also, this is a college town. There are two substantial industries here, and not that many folks, I would imagine, are looking in that range. Good luck to them, but given that locale’s history, and the comps around them, it just doesn’t seem plausible. That price is substantially above the tax assessment, as well. So I’m sure their neighbors are all pleased at this development.

Nice house. No way in the world, in a rational world anyway, it is a $700,000 house. But what even is rational in the housing game at this point?

Low interest rates and market exuberance will keep prices up for a year, maybe two or three. And then there will be some pain. That’s my economic prediction.

My other prediction is that the price on that particular house is going to be lowered.

Last Thursday I mentioned a little project I was working on. Here are the fancy fruits of my minimal labor.

These are homemade cufflinks, in a chain style. There’s a little chain and a non-distinct button on the back to hold a French cuff sleeve together.

So my wrists will look dapper.

And I have quite a few more to make with more cool fabric I have. When you’re making your own, I learned right away, they are terribly inexpensive to make in big batches. So, after I finish another long-running project or two, I’ll have to make a fancy drawer for storage for all of them, eventually.

That ought to raise the property values around here by four or five bucks, right?


18
May 21

Some pretty weekend photos

Just filling a normal Tuesday. I did work stuff and taught a student some stuff and wrestled the email beast to the ground for another day and wrote a bunch of tweets and edited some audio and those pictures are sounding pretty good right about now, aren’t they?

So here they are. This is the creek. Looked a little low, but otherwise fine, on Saturday:

And we had lovely weather on Sunday afternoon, so we sat on chairs on the deck and read and watched the birds go by.

The red-headed finches, we noticed, run this joint.

We have an excellent anti-squirrel device on our bird seed holder. Now if only the birds were neater this guy wouldn’t be setting up camp.

Also, why do we call it bird seed? If you plant it they don’t grow into birds.

I said, Mr. Goldfinch, the seeds don’t grow into birds.

We have some nice cardinals around here.

And two chipmunks living in the yard, as well.

The male cardinal is a social butterfly.

A quick search suggests that sentence has never been published on a webpage crawled by Google’s spiders. I wonder if this is the same cardinal. I don’t have a learned enough eye to know.

And, again, every time these little finches come through, whatever birds are here split.

There must be a story there, an ornithological opera of aviary avarice about surly seed stinginess, but we didn’t hear about it Sunday. Unless we did. There was a lot of chirping and birdsong.

Tomorrow: we’ll check in on the cats! And there will be a new podcast for you, as well. And maybe some other things! But you’ll only now if you come back to see.

If you have some more time to kill right now, however, there’s always more on Twitter and check me out on Instagram, too. Speaking of On Topic with IU podcasts, and, oh hey, did you know that Phoebe and Poseidon have an Instagram account? They do. Check them out.


4
May 21

The cats are in this one

I did an interview today, and then I edited the video. And then I played with the mysterious settings in Adobe Premiere. Everything worked fine, after a subsequent amount of time. It’ll be up tomorrow.

You learn a lot by being self-taught. That’s what I’ve learned, every time. I spend a lot of time thinking about that when I’m messing around with something I’ve taught myself.

Somewhere in all of that is the joy of learning. That’s probably one of those things that means different things to different people, but to me, it’s pretty straightforward. Instilling the willingness to continue to learn in someone, because they understand the delight of discovery, is to give them the drive to want to do it throughout their lives. And what a gift that is, a gift that defeats the fear, the intimidation of learning new things later. Then a person isn’t stagnant. They continue to grow throughout their lives. What a joy that is.

You know people who just sparkle in knowing a new thing. They positively glow at the opportunity. And you know people who blanch at the prospect.

It’s funny, I used to think of this in the context of the elderly. You see it in people a lot earlier, though. And lately I find myself wondering — not about the old guy who knows he’s lived and seen and learned it all, and yet there’s still so much! — but about that middle-aged guy who thinks he’s lived and seen and learned enough.

And he’s going to stagger through the next several decades like that?

That sounds lonely, and depressing, doesn’t it?

So the joy of learning, of discovery, of inquisition, of invention and creation, it shall always be.

These aren’t the problems of philosophy, but, then, it’s only Tuesday.

If it’s Tuesday, that means yesterday was Monday. And I didn’t do the cat feature. So let’s get to that here.

Phoebe did not like this email.

She did not like it at all.

We were sitting out back and Poseidon desperately wanted to be involved.

Really he wanted to find some place to roll around out there, but we’re on to his game.

And now they’re both onto the idea that there’s a chipmunk living in the back yard. If you’ll just follow their eyes here, you’ll see him too.

One day, they are thinking in their little kitty brains, I will catch you and your days of blissfully tormenting us will be over.


27
Apr 21

The week of the last shows

This is that weird time of year. Sad and happy. Sad to see some young friends go; happy to have a regular schedule over the summer. Sad to know I won’t see them in the fall; happy to see them take their next great steps. Time marches us on.

This is the the second group of people who I’ve had for four years. Last year’s senior cohort was a bit small, and, of course, truncated by global events. This senior class, though, there’s a bunch of people that have spent all four years of their college experience working on this. What a commitment that is, to spend four years of your college life working in one place! And this is the week when we kick them all out of the nest. Time plays this cruel trick and, clearly, I should stop doing this.

There’s a lot deal of talent right there, and those three are off to great, exciting things. They’ll continue to make us proud. Tomorrow we start talking about how we follow them next year. We continue on, as time demands.

Tomorrow there are more projects aplenty. Time is relentless.


20
Apr 21

Come on, honestly

I’d like to compare and contrast yesterday and today.

I’d also like to point out the date. We’re in the latter third of April. We’re accumulating snow. Who wants this? Who chooses this?

We were in the television studio tonight watching it fall. It didn’t drift down peacefully. It didn’t flutter in the air prompting a meditative mood. It looked like the snow was being flung to the ground. Someone up there was angry with the stuff, flinging it off a shoe, dusting it off a jacket with a vengeance. I’m pretty sure no one here is pleased with it either. But, I guess, you just concede to psychological response akin to brainwashing.

This was a car parked out back of the building. It belongs to one of the evening maintenance people, and I walked out just before 8 p.m. I also have an approximate sense of when those nice people show up, so I knew it was gathering pretty quickly.

Indeed, on the drive to the house it was collecting quickly enough on the roof of my car that it was sloshing out when I cautiously accelerated through intersections. It was that melting-turning-immediately-to-ice stuff. The stuff that’s gross any time of year, but incredibly laughable for … yep, it’s still April 20th.

It’s still snowing, late into the evening. Can’t wait to see what it looks like in the morning.