My friend yelled at me at lunch today. We were eating lunch with a professor and when it came time leave the professor picked up the bill. I said, "Oh, are you picking up the bill?"
The professor said: "I could," and then went off to pay it. My friend hissed at me how rude that was, and accused of me of seeming cheap and I agreed. So, I went to the ATM, withdrew some cash, wrote an apology note and shoved it and some money under the professor's office door.

I hope that resolves all potentially bad feelings between all parties.

As I explained to my friend, sometimes -- ok, maybe more than seomtimes -- I open my mouth and words just come out; just the first thing to hit my brain. And it's not always the most appropriate.

---

Yud Yud Zayin
40. Speaking The Right Words
I silence my ego. Push the mute button. Now I call upon the Light to speak on my behalf, on all occasions, so that my every word elevates my soul and all existence.

---

(An explanation of the above paragraph will come later.)

Housing Bubble Part II.

Two weeks ago, I was in Denver helping my friend with his festival. I was sometimes one of the projectionists but mostly I was a gopher that did whatever was needed and that often included comforting damaged egos.

Downtown Denver is not at all like what it was ten or fifteen years ago, when I first moved there. High-rise condos and new 'old' lofts have transformed entire sections of formerly seedy or uninhabited neighborhoods that ring the business district.

When I lived there and, apprehensively, after I moved away, I have tried to keep a track on real estate trends and there has been nothing but reports of how mile-high prices have made the mile-high city increasingly unaffordable.

I had some free time. I checked some real estate out.

The first was the renovation of a historic building a block away from an old favorite spot, but also not far from the former Adult Bookstore District.

$190,000 for a 560 square foot, 2-level, 1 bedroom loft with a basement garage.

"Not so bad," I thought to myself, "Tiny. Expensive. And if I want it bad enough..."

"One thing I'll tell you about myself," said the barely-out-of-diapers realtor, "I will always tell you the truth. I am not a liar."

"Oh? Thank you," I said, pocketing his card, "That's certainly a good quality to have."

One cool thing I always liked about Denver is that no matter its large size, it's a very neighborhood-y sort of city. If you live in any one of its neighborhoods, chances are you are within walking distance of a little commercial district.

Towards the end of the time I lived in Denver - ten years ago now - I lived in a little community called Mountainview. It was probably three blocks wide and twelve blocks long, surrounded by the City and suburbs of Denver. I sometimes wondered how it held out from being incorporated - what was its history? - filled as it was with tiny one-story homes that had seen better days.

But I loved that neighborhood. In a seedy strip mall nearby, there was a pet store that specialized in snakes and it was a 'cheap date' to go and look at them; cages upon tanks of quiet coils. There was a greasy spoon on the corner and a low-end mall with a Target. All within walking distance. It was a five minute drive to get downtown; less than that for an exit onto the highway that took you into the mountains.

The best though, was the amusement park four blocks away.

When folks travel to Denver, I bet they usually think of Elitch's. Downtown. Modern. Part of the Six Flags chain now, I believe. This is no Elitch's. This was better.

There was nothing like the thrill of riding an original wood-framed roller coaster with frayed seatbelts or riding a belching, smelly toy train around a man-made lake overlooking the mountains.

Going to Lakeside was like stepping back in time. The main entrance was through the 'Casino' building that I think might really have been a casino 100 years ago, and its grand tower like something out of Venice. Inside, there were Art Deco pavilions from the 1930s and 40s, blinking and buzzing neon satellites from midcentury (around the 'Mousetrap'), and rides you wouldn't find anywhere else. The bumper cars were original but no less fun to ride, with wood and rubber fenders, painted grills and stylized running boards.

As soon as the weather would turn warm enough to be outside, the tower with its trellices of light would be lit and you could see it from anywhere in the neighborhood. As soon as it was nice enough to keep the windows open, you could hear the distant rumble and squish of hydraulic brakes from the Cyclone and the screams of teen girls. If the wind was right, you could catch a whiff from the train's exhaust.

I drove past my old house. The chain-link fence that kept Grace in (kind of) was gone. The flower planters had been torn out.

Around the corner, I spotted a FOR SALE sign.

$164,900. A 2 bedroom, 1-and-a-half story wood house with a separate garage. The front porch sags just a bit. Some kind of vine crawls up to its metal roof from one side, and the yard is surrounded by a natural fence of overgrown shrubs. It sits back from the street in its own quiet oasis, facing the mountains. It is nothing fancy; it probably needs work; but it is exactly the kind of modest and unassuming house I like.

It I want it badly enough...

Let's talk 'Housing Bubble'.

Since I've lived back in Dayton (almost two years now), there have been two houses in my neighborhood that have sold within a week of being placed on the market. These were well-kept homes in pristine condition; The Best of the Best.

But on our daily neighborhood walks, Grace and I pass several houses that have been on the market for months, if not for over a year.

The realty signs sit for awhile. It takes about a month to six weeks before NEW PRICE gets added. Another month, and PRICE REDUCED! After another few months, the sign goes down, replaced by FOR SALE BY OWNER. Or a different listing agency. Meanwhile, the owners have moved; the yards becomes untended.

These are not bad houses. Hugshyhermit does not live in a crack house neighborhood! The neighborhood has homes from the 1920s through the early 1950s; of the bungalow rather than the ranch type.

A few months ago, my favorite single-family house in the neighborhood went up for sale. It is two blocks up from me on the same steet; a small, vinyl-sided house with a brick and stone entry, sitting on a corner lot with large oak trees, a drive-in garage and a screened porch off the living room. The flyer told me it has 2 fireplaces, 3 bedrooms and a family room framed in knotty pine in the basement. It also has a built-in photographer's Dark Room!

"Should I?" I thought to myself. The price was right; just 2 times my annual salary.

But no! That would be pure stupidity. I have no intention to stay in Dayton.

The house sits empty, papers collect on the stoop and branches collect on the lawn. The screen door snaps in the wind.

It's a bit empty in the blog here lately, although there's a half-dozen half-completed entries. Snippets from a recent trip to Colorado; the drudgery of returning here to Dayton; Even one typed out in a hotel room at a conference in Toledo. Maybe they'll show up some day. Maybe not.

Instead of doing anything fun lately, much of my spare time has been spent closely monitoring All Things Financial.

Why?

Several reasons. I want to find a different job, so I'm monitoring the economy for geographic areas and careers with a healthy future.

I want to move away from Dayton, so I'm concerned with real estate - both from a selling (Dayton) and buying (future locations) perspective.

I have a lot of debt hanging over my head, so I'm monitoring interest rates closely. (I undertake a cost-benefit analysis almost daily between leaving my 401k intact against taking out a loan to pay off debts.)

Finally, I'm monitoring the markets because of my investments in an IRA and 401k. Regardless of how well or poorly they do or whether or not I take out loans against them, they are going to be a cornerstone of my retirement.

So: There's a lot going on...

This weekend's big business news was Delphi Corporation's Bankruptcy filing. Delphi employs thousands locally, and no matter what you get from reading this article, I don't view the news at all well.

I know here in Ohio I am far from the 'frothy economies' of southwest California or Boston, but I have to wonder how far ahead or behind we are from what will or could hit the rest of the country.