Broken Corset

In an effort to generate a little more traffic on my blog, and get some outside exposure, I’m occasionally posting content simultaneously here, and on Blogher.  You can view what I wrote here, or … just read it below! 

Riding the Down Escalator Up

As a kid, I liked nothing better that rollercoasters.  Disneyland couldn’t even satisfy my thrill-seeking side.  I was much more of a Six Flags girl.  They built it, and I would come – the taller and faster the better.  But my favorite had to be the old fashioned rollercoasters.  Sitting in the front car, at the top of a hill on a wooden frame, with a concave appearing descent – the rush as you survived and started back up the next hill – nothing could top it.

Somehow, as an adult, I have watched my iron stomach disappear.  Now, simply turning around for too long in the car to help the kids with something endangers my digesting lunch.  I get off of Disneyland rides, which two decades ago would have disappointed, and am not sure if I can manage standing in line for the next one.

My weakening stomach seems to be, in a way, a metaphor for my adult tolerance for risk.  Maybe it’s becoming a mother that has transformed me… or maybe it’s just the passage of time and a deeper understanding for the frailty of life.  In any case, I now spend nights tossing and turning with worry over a variety of situations – some large, but most small – that never would have caused me to blink as an adolescent.

Yet, somehow, this morning… I find myself riding the down escalator up.  Completely against the wishes of my weakened stomach, and nearly assuring myself of a sleepless week, my husband and I have decided to buy a house.

At a time when the market is tumbling around us, homes are falling out of escrow for lack of financing, nearly everything dollar related seems terribly unstable, and the daily newspaper details depressing stories of families in over their heads on a house purchase – we are buying in.  And I’m not entirely sure how I found myself on this rollercoaster.

I know that we both feel that the current mortgage meltdown and economic deterioration is in largest part related to a lack of regulation and oversight and a focus on short term gains by major corporations.  We sold a home during the peak of the LA real estate market, and I am sorry to say that we saw some pretty unscrupulous tactics driving sales – situations where I can confidently say the buyer was not to blame for getting in over their head.

At the same time, there were plenty of consumers out there who knew what they were doing… who counted on making lots more money next year, or the divine intervention of God to help them, if their mortgage payments rose with the ARMS they could barely afford to begin with.  While these families have our deepest sympathy for the losses they are now enduring, I think we would both prefer to see personal responsibility trump government bailout in these particular situations.  Many days, when I consider this group of consumers, I feel like a cold and unforgiving person.

But today, I feel like I understand, at least a little.  While we aren’t counting on divine providence to help us make our mortgage payment, and we are going with very traditional financing (which is about all that’s available right now!) – it will still be a stretch.  We will be counting pennies, cooking at home, clipping coupons, and watching all expenditures extremely closely.  We’ll be tightening our belts as though we finished training for a marathon.  Part of me (the adult, risk-averse side) isn’t sure it’s worth it.  The housing market will likely continue to weaken (and for how long????) and while we feel pretty secure in our employment, companies around us are announcing layoffs.  AHHHHHHH!!!!!!  I want to scream… and it wouldn’t be the happy scream of adolescence as we descend the hill.  It’s a scream of a much more adult realized terror.

So why are we on this particular thrill ride?  This is where I find I understand more about those families who got in over their head.  Our reasons are much the same as theirs likely were.  We want the stability of owning a home – the knowledge that our children can go to the local schools without interruption caused by changing residence.  We want to paint their bedrooms to match their personalities.  We want to build memories of holidays in front of the hearth.  We want to plant a garden, and have a block party.  Think Norman Rockwell if you will.  It’s our own little piece of the apple-pie dream – and so, while I believe in personal responsibility – I also acknowledge that the wafting aroma of the pie from the kitchen is overpowering, and we have probably all over indulged a time or two – I do understand.

I nearly feel thirteen again – taking such a risk… but fortunately I’m doing it with my thirty-two year old stomach…  as we’re descending down that hill…  hoping to survive and rise up – I’m puking over the edge.  The difference between being and adult and an adolescent is right there in the ride.  Adults get on with both eyes open to the risks and potential rewards.  They buy their own tickets for the ride, and assume the risks printed on the back.  Sometimes that risk is upsetting, unnerving, and downright scary.  But, as an adult, you make a choice to take it and endure the consequences that may be inevitable.  It’s the adolescents who choose ignorance, that can jump in without blinking. 

And my stomach metaphor therefore has some implication for the current financial crisis.  There must be accountability – all around.  More oversight and regulation for the companies, more focus on sound financials than on short term profits.  And us average consumers out there?  Well, we have to stop behaving like adolescents… ignoring, or refusing to consider the risks as we jump straight into danger. 

It’s okay to choose to ride the down escalator up – despite a revolting stomach… but you ride at your own risk, and hopefully only after carefully considering all the warnings, and realistically evaluating your ability to make the climb.