Tag Archives: wealth

Getting ahead by getting in over your head

people who buy houses they can't afford

Apparently, the best way to build wealth is to go into massive debt.

“You know, you really should consider buying a house,” said my friend, Wayne, as he looked around my dismal apartment, his lips curled in a condescending sneer. “Now is a terrific time to buy.”

“Really?” I said, settling across from him on my grungy couch. “Right now? You mean when inventory is depleted and prices are sky-high? Yeah, it sounds like an ideal time to pour all my hard-earned money into a ramshackle hovel. When was the last time I heard this advice? Early 2008?”

Wayne sniffed. “This time it’s different. Home prices can never go down. You don’t want to get left behind.”

“Take a look at my apartment,” I said. “I’ve already been left behind. I couldn’t buy a house in the aftermath of the recession because I had a low-paying job. And now that I have a better job, home prices have surged to outpace wages. I can’t win.”

“You’ll never learn,” Wayne said. “The only way to make it in life is to buy and sell houses. That’s the key. The only people who get ahead are the ones who buy homes.”

“Huh. I always thought the way to get ahead was to save your money and live below your means.”

Wayne laughed out loud. “Seriously? And where has that gotten you?”

I glanced around my dismal apartment. “Not far, I suppose.”

“That’s exactly right. Working hard and saving money are probably the stupidest things you can do. When you live below your means, you’re not living. That’s why you’re supposed to buy a house and borrow against the equity. How do you think people have RVs and ATVs and brand-new cars? They’re not working hard and saving the money, I can tell you that.”

“I believe it,” I said. “People don’t seem to have to work anymore. Everyone’s just rich for no reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” Wayne said. “They’re rich because they live in enormous houses with rising values. You should take some notes. Like I said, now is a terrific time to buy.”

“People always say it’s a terrific time to buy,” I said. “When the market’s up, it’s a terrific time to buy. When the market’s down, it’s a terrific time to buy. When a zombie apocalypse hits the planet, it’s a terrific time to buy.”

“Actually,” Wayne said, “that would be an amazing time to buy. You could get in early when the prices were down. You’d just have to hose out the guts and rotting flesh.”

“Well, tell you what,” I said. “I’ll make you a deal. If a zombie apocalypse hits the planet, then maybe — just maybe — I’ll consider buying a house.”

“If you do, check out mine,” Wayne said. “I’m listing it for sale, and I’m looking for a buyer. I’m trying to move up.” 

“Move up?” I said. “And you want to use me as your stepladder?” 

He shrugged. “What can I say? If you knew anything about making money, you would have bought a house you couldn’t afford a long time ago.” 

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Rallying for all the wrong reasons

Demanding Day Traders

Well, fair’s fair.

My next-door neighbor, Paul, was all grins the other day when we met for drinks after work.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked, my head sagging over my gin and tonic.

“Well,” Paul said, wearing a huge smile, “I’m not sure if you follow the financial news, but there was a major relief rally today on Wall Street.”

I peered up at him. “A relief rally?”

He nodded. “Yep. A big one.”

“Well, then,” I said, rolling my heavy eyes, “isn’t that just spellbindingly fantastic? Jolly jolly six pence.”

Paul’s bright smile dipped ever so slightly. “That sounded sarcastic.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “Not at all. You see, when it comes to relief, I can’t think of a more deserving group of people than rich Wall Street jerks with huge mansions, five vacation properties, four yachts, three private jets and a wad of hundred-dollar bills blowing out their backside. I mean, forget the working-class poor who are slaving away at multiple part-time jobs and struggling to raise their children in a rising-interest rate environment where wages are stagnant and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Goodness knows they don’t deserve relief. When the market dips ever so slightly, my heart goes out to the truly downtrodden — the truly worthy — such as the bankers and the politicians and the lobbyists. They’re the ones who deserve the outpouring of pity flowing from our tender hearts. In the patchwork quilt that is America, they’re the imperative threads that weave us all together in a snug cocoon of kinship and closeness.”

Paul blinked at me. “Are you sure you’re not being sarcastic?”

“What do you care about the ebbs and flows of the markets, anyway?” I asked, throwing back my drink. “You don’t have any money invested.”

“I was trying to pass on good news, is all. I read that you should try to share a bit of good news every day, to instill cheer in your fellow humans.”

I glared at him. “Instill cheer? And you think the idea of rich people getting richer is supposed to instill me with cheer?”

“Well.” Paul shrugged.

“If you wanted to instill me with cheer, you could tell me that housing is finally affordable, or that healthcare costs have gone down, or that instead of buying back their own stock, companies are finally investing in their employees.”

Paul shook his head. “Nope. None of that’s happened, as far as I can tell.”

At that moment, his phone buzzed. He picked it up to read the alert.

“Hey,” he said, “I got more good news. The Dow futures are way up in after-hours trading.”

I sighed, sinking lower in my bar stool. “What a relief.”