Holiday Joy

I am very surprised that more people do not commit suicide at airports.

I am going on record to say that flying these days is downright oppressive. This is by far the worst part of living 2,500 miles from our family. Sometimes you can trick yourself into thinking that flying cross-country is easy and doable -- and really NBD (no big deal), but this is a bunch of horseshit, unfortunately.

Like many, I have NO idea what this year will bring. None. I feel like there's a hurricane coming and we have to stock up on canned goods and board games. When life sends you a hurricane, have a hurricane party -- n'est-ce pas?

In search of the perfect SF neighborhood

We have lived here in the City now for 2.5 years and have thoroughly enjoyed it. We live in Duboce Triangle, which is lovely, but frankly we need a change of scenery. Living half a block from Market Street has its pros and its cons -- and lately, the cons (and ex-cons) seem to be winning.

Yes, I am talking about crackheads again, dear friends -- or, to be technical: meth-heads. There is something about meth that makes people so bat-shit crazy, it is unbelievable. But this post is not about crackhead stories (there are so many good ones -- yes, I know this), rather this is about finding a good place to live....

After 2 years of meticulous study, the criteria for "the right neighborhood" are as follows:

1. Shall not be O-M-G expensive (this rules out Nob Hill, Russian Hill and probably Presidio Heights. (Great 'cause I didnt want to live there anyway, see #5))

2. Shall not have incidences of moop on the streets > .5 per block (yah that's right -- human excrement) -- (this rules out the Tenderloin, the Haight, the Mission)

3. Shall not have incidences of smahed car windows > 1 per block/per day (the official scientific abbreviation is SCW/bl*d) --- (goodbye Bayview, SOMA, Western Addition and other neghborhoods I cant pronounce, like Visatacion Valley)....

4. Weather: Let's be real, I need some sunlight if I have any hope of metabolising vitamin E and thus maintaining a healthy mental state. That's not asking for much, right? (adios any neighborhood prefaced by the word "Outer" AND the following: Balboa Park, Western Portal, Ingleside, andTwin Peaks). Brrr.

Ok, that was simple. Here's where it gets a little tricky: the social dynamics of a place.

5. You see, the reason I love SF is because of the rich diversity. Hence, I do not wish to live in a neghborhood where everyone is like me (i.e. a bunch of lame wasps) -- this eliminates Pac Heights, Laurel Heights, Noe Valley, Marina, Cow Hollow, and Sausalito, as lovely as they are...

6. Having said that, I don't want to be in the super-minorty either. Why? Because that would make me a bit alienated and thus, sad. This eliminates the Castro, Chinatown, the Sunset, and the Richmond. Call me what you will -- I am just being honest.

Ok, we are making progress.

7. Bodegas: I need a good shopkeep. Neighborhood must have several mom-and-pop shops -- somewhere where they will know my name, give treats to my dog, and (if you really want to go the extra mile, like my shopkeep does) -- help me break into my place when I've locked myself out. Said neighborhood must also contain at least 1 Irish Pub or acceptable substitution. This rules out Mission Bay and the FiDi (do people actually live in the FiDi? Don't know).

After applying my 7 simple rules, this doesn't leave us with much. So far, I am counting: Bernal Heights, Hayes Valley (which may fall victim of Rule #3, I'm not sure yet), North Beach, Potrero Hill, and Cole Valley. These are the 5 finalists on the short list. Who will be the lucky winner?

Stay tuned.

Doctors: who needs 'em

So -- here's the thing. I used to think that people were bone-headed for refusing to go to the doctor. My grandfather -- who WAS a doctor -- would not go to the doctor. Eh? I've had other close family members do the same. I used to think this was the most ridiculous phenomenon in the world until.....

I was recently faced with the prospect of not having health insurance. Don't get me wrong: I do not in any way, shape or form suggest that being without health insurance is a good idea. It's not. Long story short, I did manage to get health insurance. It was incredibly difficult and complicated and I have sudden empathy for people who are without.

Onward. I was forced to ask myself the question: what has a doctor ever done for me that has actually helped (i.e. told me something or did something to me) that I could not have done on my own? Surprisingly, I came up with only 1 thing: prescribing drugs (which actually technically would not even be on the list if I lived in - say, Mexico). Yes, there may come a time when you are really f'ed up for whatever reason and need surgery. But seriosuly -- for day to day, year to year stuff -- what does a doctor really do for you?

Both Rich and I have been experiencing various annoying health-related issues lately. Me with my hip and back (am I 80?) and Rich's knee, which has been the source of endless pain and angst. He actually went to the doctor before when we had the "good" insurance. He was told to get an MRI, come back, and they can decide what to do. Umm, ok. Here's how I envision this:

Doc: "yup, your knee is swollen -- looks like you have tendinitis or even a torn ligament"

Rich: "ok, what should I do?"

Doc: "well, we can do surgery -- OR, you could just stop heaving 245 lbs over your head when you work out -- that could have something to do with it"

YOU THINK??

Not to ridicule Rich because I think everyone's knee-jerk reaction (no pun intended) when they are injured is to run to the doc. I guess what I'm saying is: if you stop and think about it, you can probably determine on your very own what you should really do to help yourself. It's usually fairly common sense.

Do you agree? Shoot me a comment and tell me what a doctor has done for you lately (ER room visits don't count). Cheers.

The Japanese real estate bubble analogy

The x-axis denotes the years during the Japanese economic crisis. The red are the analagous dates in the US. It's a long way down, my friends.

I have been watching the Ken Burns series "The War" about WWII, which I think every American should see. It is sponsored in part by Bank of America. In their ad, they say "Bank of America: only when we study the past can we avoid the mistakes of the future." Ironic.

Disclaimer: I'm not usually this negative. I heard the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas song today and it made me absolutely insane.

To all real estate developers:

What do we (i.e. the good people in the real estate development industry) do now? I've been thinking about this a lot lately and I've come to one conclusion..... NOTHING. Yep, that's right. Go on vacation. Click below for more detail:

If anyone has any other viable alternatives, please leave a comment.....

Your Fannie is too big...

My friend Steve just attended a panel on the economy. One of the keynote speakers was Peter Schiff, author of Bull Moves in Bear Markets, and someone I highly regard (disclaimer: I am in no way, shape or form an expert on macroeconomics, I just know a smart guy who listens to other smart guys).

Schiff stated that this recession (or whatever you want to call it) won't be anything like what happened to Japan in the 90s. I'm thinking -- oh, thank god, 'cause that was really bad, right?! No, he said, it will be far worse....

Oh shit! Why is that? Well, because the Japanese actually had savings. They also had a manufacturing-based economy that was still viable. We -- the good 'ol US of A -- do neither. Ouch.

I had never really grasped how the workings of FNMA/Freddie could have possibly contributed to all of this until you really think about the fundamental relationship between RISK and REWARD.... You see, the fact is that the fundamental perception that these mortgage-backed securities were/are somehow *implicitly guaranteed* by the US Government makes them, well, WAY more attractive as an investment (after all, we all know that the US government will not possibly allow them to fail, right? It's bad form). Offering low risk/high(ish) reward securities does something perverse....it throws the thermodynamics of the risk/reward relationship out of balance. What?? You'll pay me a moderately high return on something that offers little to no risk, hell yeah -- where do I sign??

What does that do? That, in turn, creates this huge lopsided demand for said securities which then demands additional supply (i.e. boundlessly high housing prices) -- all until -- POOF, Joe the Plumber starts defaulting on his stucco McMansion in the exurbs when his incredulously low introductory teaser rate adjusted under this mis-assumption that he could just sell that bad boy if he had to. AH, I think I am starting to understand. THAT -- plus the fact that housing supply had far exceeded even the then-ravenous demand. Add to that the whole lending-to-people-who-are-completely-un-credit-worthy thing, and LUCY, you got some 'splainin' to dooooo.

And nobody saw this coming. Really? By the way -- Where's my dollar, Art Laffer? You idiot.

This is why I live here.com

Just another run-of-the-mill November day at Point Lobos at the end of Geary Street (one of the best-kept secrets in SF)...

Don't look away for a s-e-c-o-n-d

Does anyone really want to hear me ranting about the crackheads in San Francisco? No? Too bad, 'cause here goes...

I rode my bike down to Kezar Sports bar to join Rich watching the Bucs game. I pulled my bike up to a nice sturdy-looking parking meter. I knelt down to lock my bike and dropped my bag behind me, like I normally do. The funny thing is, I even remember thinking to myself for a brief second -- how funny it would be if someone stole my bag while I am sitting right next to it. We are, afterall, near the GGP (aka crackhead central). That would be really horrible, I thought, because it contains every vital item I own -- wallet, phone, house keys -- all those silly things.

Locking up a bike is a very ardudous process in SF because, you see, you have to use like 3 different locks because if you so much as leave a reflector unlocked, it will be stolen. I know this because my bike was stolen last year from the parking garage at the Caltrain Safeway. Well, I wouldn't say "it" was stolen, just EVERY SINGLE THING ON IT. Wheels, seat, handlebars, everything. I was left with only a frame - a skeleton of a once-proud bicycle. Very sad.

So, you have to manage 3 different locks, keys, helmet, bag containing valuable, sunglasses -- all of these things need to be juggled all while trying to keep your bike from toppling over in the process. If you are an octopus or a professional juggler, you are in good shape. If you are a humanoid, however, you're screwed.

I finish the lock down, which took about 30 seconds, turn around and my bag is GONE. In a flash, I think OH MY GOD -- how could this happen? I frantically look down both sides of the street and I see a crackhead about 30 yards away walking away with my bag. He's not running, just walking -- he's practically dragging the bag behind him on the ground. I immediately begin to sprint toward him. Meanwhile, I've captured the attention of passersby who notice my angst. I thought I should call out to him "Hey fucker, that's mine!", but then that would give him time to run and you KNOW I ain't runnin' down no crackhead (they are so motivated!). Should I tackle him from behind? Run around the front and kick him in the nuts? What if he starts running? What if he has a knife? Oh, I knew I should have taken kung-fu as an elective in college. (Keep in mind: "level-headed" is probably not a word people would use to describe me).

Luckily, he must have seen or heard me coming and just threw the bag behind him on the ground and kept walking. No words were exchanged. I simply pick up my bag and stand there like an idiot. The people who were watching nod congratulations.

Lesson learned: do not ever leave anything unattended for a second in this city -- it will be stolen -- faster than you can even imagine it happening.

Number Five is Alive

So I've had my Roomba now for about a year now, and my how our relationship has grown. I call him Zach and Rich says I spend more time watching him vacuum the floors than I would if I just vacuumed the floors myself, the old-fashioned way. While this may be technically true, I can't say that he fully understands the complex relationship between me and my robot.

I watch his work like one would admire an artiste painting a portrait. Me: "You're really 'on' today, Zach. I'm loving you're work" OR "Oh Zach, you missed a spot, silly robot" OR "Zach -- I told you, don't go in the closet - how many times do I have to tell you!!". Sometimes I lose my temper with him, but I know deep down that he understands. After all, I care for him when his bins need to be emptied. When his batteries are low, I re-charge him. And even when his left wheel was failing, I gave him a new one.

Sometimes -- in the middle of the night -- I imagine that he's standing at the bedroom door with his lights flashing, watching us sleep (ok, not really -- that would be really creepy, right? Heh).

On a completely unrelated note, big ups to two books that made me laugh out loud this year, that's Bright Lights, Big Ass by Jen Lancaster and When you are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. I guarantee you much laughter with these books. Enjoy.

life, post-Arterra

My first blog post. Should be interesting.....

It has been over 3 months since I left my job at Intracorp, where I was the project manager of a high-rise condo in downtown San Francisco (Arterra). These are some of the things you only realize in retrospect...

I now have time to answer the phone, reply to emails, and return phone calls (novel!). I don't get bitter about household duties (well, almost). I understand what my dog must feel like every day (being stuck in the house with no one to walk me). I notice how many crackheads there actually are in our neighborhood. I realize that a lot of my neighbors have AIDS. I confess that Cafe Flore's coffee maybe isn't so good (compared to homebrew). I watch the guy across the street from my dining room window and wonder if he watches back.

I could go on, but I won't.

I am now entering the entirely new and unknown field of internet retail -- a plan originally hatched by Rich and Steve. We are creating the ultimate online shopping site (I use the term "we" very loosely). I am very excited, but a little intimidated at the same time (it may also have something to do with the fact that our country is entering an economic dark age, but that's another story altogether). Anyhoo -- this is the new me. Internet Meg. Nay, internet e-tailer Meg. Site to be lanched next month. Stay tuned.