Forgive me if I'm wrong, but my understanding has always been that a mobile home can actually move, which would sort of take the "location" component out of the pricing equation. Sure, this trailer is parked on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, but couldn't I just buy one here for a song and drive it out there? So what if I might have to wait a bit for a parking space, or pay a little more once I get one. Even factoring in gas, I'm pretty sure I'd still come out ahead.
Anyway, what's so good about a bluff overlooking the Pacific? Tsunamis, earthquakes, forest fires -- living there is like sitting on top of a time bomb. Except for the occasional tornado, the Midwest holds very few surprises. We know full well there's a chance we'll wake up one morning in the latter half of April to several inches of freezing snow. I'd much rather do without spring than live in constant fear of a major calamity.
Wouldn't I? As I trudged from my car to Starbucks through the slippery April snow this morning, narrowly avoiding a repeat of the ass-over-teakettle fall I had two months ago when it was really winter, I started to think living dangerously in California wouldn't necessarily be such a bad thing. Maybe I'd even like the somewhat wild and swinging California lifestyle -- not that you can't have that here, as long as you don't mind being home by nine. But people who live on the edge, always on the cusp of disaster, know how to enjoy the moment. I could learn some good life lessons from those folks, and maybe have a bit of fun along the way.
Just out of curiosity, I'm going to price out some mobile homes. I'm sure my daughter won't mind doing a "Thelma and Louise" adventure with me (minus the drive off the cliff, of course). Finishing up high school with your friends is so overrated. She'll understand, especially when I explain to her how pretty the view is going to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment