Waynesword Late Winter ‘09
Helping Spring Arrive…
In 2009, in the Saratoga-Capital District area, there was NO January thaw. The snow piled all around our house testifies to that. Much of it fell, and none melted. The backrest on our park bench out back was buried, and so was the wrought iron patio furniture. Walking out to the compost pile—a trip of about 30 yards-- became an ordeal, with each step I would sink up past my knees, and it would’ve been mid-thigh if not for a crusty layer of ice two feet down. Someone told me that a family member in Oswego had 30 inches of snowpack in their backyard, and I said So do I, just up the hill in Middle Grove.
No one who lives in our latitude or north needs to be told the obvious: this report is intended for those in the south and west and anywhere else where the temperature actually climbs above freezing in mid-winter. When you don’t have to LIVE with the daily realty of monstrous frozen snowbanks and jagged glacial pilings on every roadside and street corner, it seems far more QUAINT to read about a solidly white winter than it actually is to endure it.
Many years ago, also in a February like this, I devised a psychological scheme to deal with the fact that, in the depths of a deep upstate winter, it looked like seasonal improvement was impossibly far off. I dubbed it “Helping Spring Arrive”—it simply involved grabbing a sharp-edged shovel or ice-pick and steadily scraping away at the accumulated, encrusted snow and ice on the sidewalk and driveway
whenever the temp finally approached or eclipsed the 32 degree barrier.
Although it makes minimal difference in the big scheme of things, it gives one the impression that you are clearing the path toward warmer weather. Being able to see the sidewalk, or driveway, or deck boards, is gratifying after a solid month or more of having them buried under layers of encrusted snow and ice.
My wife thinks I’m crazy, trying to hack away at winter’s residue, saying “It will melt soon enough…” but that’s not really the case. I theorize that by exposing a bit more blacktop in the driveway, or brown mahogany on the deck, there will be more solar warmth absorbed, and the area around our home will heat up quicker than the rest of the white and gray landscape. It might be a millionth of a degree, a thousandth of a degree, or one damn degree, but it’s something.
Saving Propane on the Homefront
Speaking of heat, and given these budget-stressed economic times, I have been in an ultra-conserv-ative mode with regard to stretching our propane dollars to the max— I know some people who, with roughly the same size house as us, say they’ve spent close to $6000. on LP gas this year, and know others who have spent $5000. on oil for the season. Half of either of those numbers would still be too much for my tolerance this year, so I have employed draconian measures which my family has accepted, fairly gracefully.
We have turned the thermostat in our house down to 60-61 degrees. Most people in this climate could not handle that, but my kids have learned to do so. In fact, while I of late am wrapped in multiple-layers of long-sleeved jerseys and sweaters, my younger son Daryn walks around comfortably in a sleeve-less t-shirt, barefoot. He regularly goes out to catch the school bus in nothing more than a polo shirt and a fleece jacket when the wind chill is 10 below. It makes me think he is part Mohawk, as the primordial stories I have read say that their warriors frequently walked around these parts with exposed or minimally covered skin, during the same kind of brutal winters as we’re having this year. It comes in handy to be a rugged throw-back.
As I write this, the sun is shining and mid-February looks more promising than a month ago. We know in our heads that winter doesn’t last forever, but we need psychological balm at this point to get through the rest of it, particularly those of us who rely on showing and evaluating property as Realtors. You’ve got to get OUT there to see it, you can’t always do it from the comfort of your desktop.
But even if you do brave the elements, you often can’t see the perimeter of the foundations of houses you’re scheduled to view—the roofs are covered 8 inches deep, the yards are blanketed and the perennials that may appear in 2-3 months are only noted in the pictures left on the kitchen table by scrupulous and hopeful home-sellers. Such is the fun of practicing the real estate profession in quasi-arctic climates.
(Of course, real estate is not the only thing that is tough to sell in the winter-time—noted below…)
There’s a beautiful blue VW Beetle hibernating under the snowpack; it was For Sale before being buried by the seasonal onslaught of early ’09….
This house, looking like a forlorn modern version of Dr. Zhivago’s frozen-in-place summer house on the outskirts of the Russian countryside, is not for sale at the moment, but likely will be, at a bargain price, once the thaw makes it accessible…
*****
Like a lot of cars, this wagon has been stuck in the permafrost of Middle Grove for a while now…. and only recently became visible again.
*****
By the time I’ve gotten around to writing this, the worst will be past, and I’ve planted the seeds of the next season by grousing about the some of the extremes we’ve seen in the troubled winter of our discontent, ’08-09. One reason I like to chronicle things is to make them change, which they always do. By trying to pin down a certain image or scene, or time frame, I find that the very next day, things look different, and that’s how you get stagnation or stasis to change. At least this is what I’m hoping: (cue our theme again) --
“Helping Spring Arrive…In The Market”
What I am talking about is more than the weather—it’s our collective national mood, which has been in the tank for an extended time, but especially since last fall. The economic debacle has seemed like the windmilling skier caught in the act of rolling downhill, out of control, for far too long. Frozen car sales, houses encased in ice, these aren’t just shots of winter— they accompany a litany of dark choruses, a series of chronic bummer news stories about the supposed black hole of our collective financial picture. I for one am tired of it, and am ready for the next act. Some good weather is being promised as I write this— I’ll take any omen, let the melt begin.
A RETURN TO INSOUCIANCE…
In the grimness of winter, I realized something basic—I liked myself more when I was younger, like even a year or two ago. Back when I was funnier, animated, wittier, more connected, less depressed, more driven, less worried, more insouciant, if I can talk French for a second. My wife and other people have confirmed this (other than my daughter—I always try to be funny around her)—I was more affable toward life when the kids were younger, college was not looming, and business was not as tough nor as pressured.
But when did I lose my sense of humor? (Sorry, it seems like I’m digressing from real estate here, but there’s a point coming…)
When I look back, I realize that it was when the real estate market showed the first signs of going sour—something I had predicted would happen even during the boon times of 2001-2005. Intuition told me long before statistics did that something was terribly wrong, and there were cracks in the surface of terra firma. Things that used to go right started going wrong, or taking longer, and the participants in the transactions began to get testy, or upset—whereas prior to that it had been a fairly happy, win-win situation for several years running.
In other words, I let a sense of foreboding about the zeitgeist of the business RUIN my mood. I wish I could go back a couple of years (don’t we all?), and prepare to do it over again, improve my outlook, and remain detached from what I sensed was the demise of the great times in real estate…. after all, remaining detached from outcome is one of the great teachings of Zen Buddhism, Zen in the Art of Archery, and the martial arts I admired in my youth.
Instead, I bottled up my angst and lost my insouciance, not good. Perhaps this happened to all of us, to some extent?? Put it this way—I ADMIRE anyone who can now carry on the pretense of APPEARING to have nothing wrong in their life…. But I don’t trust them 100% either. There is a balance point somewhere between nervous agita and well-centered confidence that I am still trying to find.
REPORT FROM THE FRONT LINES…
I have a few favorite clichés about the business, and this happens to be one of them: as realtors, we are on the front lines of the Economy.
The analogy to War is deliberate—we see the point of contact between intersecting parties, for better or worse—we see the good, the bad, and the ugly up close, where the negotiations, and sometimes the fighting, take place. Our daily endeavors reveal whether there is going to be peace, or unresolved market wars, or a restless stalemate on the battlefield where decisions are made.
I suppose people in the retail world feel the same way about their business, or anyone pursuing a career in sales—you too are on the front lines, and see how people act, and re-act, or don’t act, when it comes to spending their money, or re-tracting.
What I can tell you, from my meager point of view, is that the worst of it is behind us—
I put all my faith in tomorrow…
it’s gonna be great, I can tell,
but anyway…
I think the past, the past is behind us,
Be real confusing if not,
but anyway…
John Popper,
Blues Traveler
I don’t say this lightly. I have been notoriously honest with people about judging their real estate values, so most of you know I do not spout platitudes just to make people feel better about their situation.
In fact, I think the extremes in the Bad News Departments have helped set the stage for the next act. Just today, in late February as I write this, a report came out from the Case-Shiller Index, showing an 18.5% drop in average sales prices nationally for last December (’08), compared to a year prior. The report noted a 25% drop in average real estate values across the board nationally since the peak in 2006.
Why is this bad news good? Well, for starters, since the stock market is down 50% since its peak in fall of 2007, we are doing better in comparison than the world of high finance. Secondly, a correction was overdue, especially from the Buyer’s point of view—things were out of hand when prices in real estate were escalating rapidly for no apparent reason. I could see the looks in Buyer’s faces when they saw what was available to them at those inflated numbers a couple of years ago—where were the bargains?? Now they are coming back.
Thirdly, and most importantly, there is a corrective measure applied to a lot of delusional Sellers when yet another dose of cold water is thrown on their over-heated impressions of what they “should get” for their homes, or investment properties. In places like Saratoga Springs, because of its legacy and cachet, Sellers seem to have believed that they were IMMUNE to the economic realities of the USA as a whole. When I act in the role of a Buyer’s Agent, trying to justify what a realistic price should be, from the Buyer’s point-of-view, on a given property, I am tired of being rebuffed with the line:
“But this is Saratoga!!” Much as I love Saratoga, and have chosen to live here myself, it’s time for us all to get over the idea that we are a distinct island oasis of real estate values, separate from the woes of humanity, or the Darwinian indifference of the financial world. I have heard residents from other parts of the Capital District refer to Saratoga’s “kind of arrogant provincialism” and perhaps this is what they mean. Nowhere else in the upstate area do you get that sense of privileged entitlement, except perhaps for those on Lake George’s pristine waterfront properties. But now—thanks to over-saturated negative news reports—everyone knows that everyone is feeling the pinch.
OVERCOMING THE GULF OF DIFFERENCES…
The worst part of the real estate business in the past year or so is not that Buyers and Sellers are mis-connecting by a little, but by a lot. The chasm between the two parties is sometimes alarming, and enormous. Sometimes my own Buyer clients, making a determination of their own as to what a property is worth, will go much lower than I would recommend, and are soundly rebuffed. Sometimes those same properties I helped them pursue in the early stages of a listing, stubbornly remain on the market, and then sell for just about what we offered. Other times, people pay more, but my Buyers didn’t budge. But more often than not, the properties in question are still on the market many moons later, languishing in the harsh frozen landscape.
But this is when things have to break. Times like these compel the anxious & impatient Sellers to move off their stubborn positions and come down enough on their price to meet the market. Likewise, the Buyers who are opportunistic will come to the realization that market forces will likely NEVER be so much in their favor as now—a combination of recently passed TAX INCENTIVES, low fixed (5-5.5%) interest rates, more than ample inventory, and high motivation among Sellers. Consequently, there is NO BETTER TIME for
BARGAIN HUNTERS,
RELUCTANT RENTERS,
TENTATIVE LOOKERS,
& NOVICE SHOPPERS
to capture the moment and achieve home-ownership at last! There!!
I have proclaimed it—now let’s go LOOK AT SOME DAMN HOUSES!
Staring at your computer screen night after night is NOT going to get you INTO one, you need a Buyer Agent to do that for you! Cue the maniacal, wide-eyed Jack Nicholson-look:
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, MAN?!!
(Do you sense that my sense of humor is back yet?)
I’m harping primarily on you first-time Buyers because you are the ones who need the most coaxing, and YOU hold the key to our housing market’s short-term future. I am also speaking, of course, to anyone sitting on the fence—whether moving up or down, retiring or downsizing, investing or divesting…. it’s all important, yes. But I feel like the dominoes start with the first nudge at the beginning, the starter home Buyers who finally make a move—
I don’t care if you are Generation-X, Y, or Z, or whether you’re as savvy a baby as in the recent (& hilarious) E*TRADE commercials on TV-- I want to work with you, and find you a home you can care about. I don’t care if you’re older than me and never owned a home before (see the Real Estate Anecdote page for corollary story), or if you’ve forgotten what Generation you belong to, I am willing to help, and make the process amusing and informative to you.
Have I pleaded my case enough?? OK, before I become the frothing-at-the-mouth sardonic version of CRAMER of the real estate industry, I’ll stop now. But you have to realize, for years I’ve been playing it cool with this column, acting as if I’m above the fray, beyond the conflict, and now I’m ADMITTING that that’s not the case. I’m up to my ass in this business and for all the torment it has put me through I still love it.
I’m real, I’m in real estate, and I’m no better off or different than any of you. We’re ALL up to our necks in this, together. I want my industry to survive, and want my kids to have an economy to come home to. I want YOU to get the best home you can afford, in a way that makes you happy. And I want all the bad news that came before this, right up till this morning, to fade away like a bad dream,
and I want all that to start now—are you ready?
WAKE UP TO FIND OUT
THAT YOU…
ARE THE EYES
OF THE WORLD
--Robert Hunter, The Grateful Dead
Wake of the Flood album, 1973
That’s it for now—reporting live from the still-icy but slowly softening tundra of upstate New York—
(The sign says “SLOW RESIDENTIAL AREA”—which
kind of sums things up in the winter market, & these snowbanks
are about half as high as they were a month previous, when the
yellow square itself was buried…)
Thanks for reading this—check the other parts of the site soon for more.
COPYRIGHT WAYNE PERRAS 2009
Posted Tuesday, December 15, 2009