How’d we get into this mortgage mess? Hell if I know.
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More thoughts on strippers and real estate pricing
(Thought that might get your attention.) As I’ve noted, the real estate firm trying to peddle its condos on Milbank is not providing a stripper but rather a new age therapist who will inspire and move us (Ed: how is that different from a stripper?]. But what’s the reasoning here? Is it possible that we agents are unaware of the presence of two vacant condo units that have sat on the market since January 2007, or that their price, to everyone’s great hilarity, was raised in July ’07 from $5.4 million to $5.9 million, each? I don’t think so; I think the builder has a pricing, not an awareness problem. It’s possible that, over time, marketplace tastes will change and buyers will clamor for a unit where, with the help of a 12′ scaling ladder, they can scramble up to Whole Foods and do their shopping. For 21 months now, however, the market’s spoken rather eloquently: it doesn’t like the price or the location. You can’t change the location, and bringing on therapists or strippers or changing the description, as this one did, from “English Manor” to Euro-Style” will accomplish nothing. Drop the price a couple of million and maybe something will happen.

Marking to Market, Redux
I innocently opined yesterday that this seemed like a good idea and was promptly straightened out by two well reasoned comments from “CEA”, who clearly is up on the subject (all while providing a neat, accurate comparison to real estate pricing in Greenwich). Now someone in the Wall Street Journal says, who knows what will happen – let’s try it and find out. So now I’m thoroughly confused. Thoughts, CEA?

It’s always something!
Okay, we got the carbon thing under control by shutting down our coal plants (too bad China’s building something like 1,200 of the pesky things a week, but hey, we tried. Now it turns out that a worse pollutant, methane, is rushing out from the ocean floor. What do I have to do to save this planet, give up my freaking boat, for Crissake? Sheesh!

If you blame this spate of non-real estate posts on a dearth of real estate news, you’d be right.
Reviewing the hot sheet, no new listings of note, a handful of mediocre price reductions (odd that cutting $500,000 from a listing price could be described as mediocre but if you start high enough, it is) and no contracts. I’ll be glad when Congress either does or does not pass the bailout bill because we might see people moving off the fence, one way or the other. Sellers might panic and cut their prices low enough to bestir buyers or buyers might gain confidence that it’s safe to come out of the bedroom. I’ll be cooling my heels until then – I just may have to send Amanda out on another mission (Oh no! Aaaaaaggghhh! – get over it).

This is sad, if expected news
We all knew that explorer/dare devil Steve Fossett was dead but now they’ve found his personal effects in the desert. While it’s possible it’s all a ruse designed to hide his escape to Cuba with Hank Paulson and the $700 billion, I think not. Too bad, because I always admired the guy. He did crazy stunts but at his expense, and was inspiring to this armchair wannabe.

Resurgence of the Luddites
They’re coming to destroy civilization but we’re not paying attention. Here’s a nice round up of what these wackos are up to.