Should Nomads Buy Real Estate?

Restless legs? Itchy feet? ADD? I don’t know. But with ten moves down, I still can’t stay put.

Yet the perfect storm of 2002 made renting seem utterly unacceptable. Rates were low, values were rising, and, apparently, only big fat losers weren’t aiming for ownership.

So I took the plunge with a 1920s row house. A fixer-upper on the fringe of this city’s famously swank and historic district (where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average).

At first, all those weekends spent on sore knees, scraping paint and skinning knuckles were kind of empowering. Home values were skyrocketing and my vocabulary was turning dude-like: “Yeah, I think Lowe’s is having a sale on 18-volt litheon cordless drills…” Pretty soon my decrepit old lady was up off the floor and attempting to Charleston.

[Sound of needle screeeeching across record]

Then, of course, bubbles began to burst and wither before America’s incredulous eyes.

So I added more new words to my vocabulary: “subprime, derivatives, mortgage-backed securities…”

I’d been listening to the David Bach types, who insist that owning is the best financial move anyone/anywhere/anytime can make. And I guess if a super long-term investment strategy is where your comfort level lies, and wanderlust is minimal, then home owning is safe and sensible.

Now I take advice from the other camp, too—the entrepreneurial types who think we could stand to be a little more creative, take risks when we’re young, and invest in/create/invent things that excite us more than mortgage payments. I think that’s a view worth considering as well.

Seven (ack!) Eight years in, I’m getting the itch to sell, escape, and go exploring. I can’t face painting the same porch a third time. And I’ll never care how acidic my soil is.

Home owning is probably for people more domestic than I—with green thumbs and fancy grills (yards, not mouths). Or maybe for people with partners to help.

So until I devise an exit strategy that makes sense in this market (become a landlady?), I’ll be chronicle-y complaining about caulking toilets and killing crab grass.

At least now I have a homepage—cyber snail shell, portable hub, and single address that will stay the same no matter where I go next…