Home ownership was something I never imagined myself ever getting into. After all the headaches I witnessed my parents enduring through Reagan’s recovery, real estate felt more like a disease; buying was easy, selling was a nightmare. This perception also colored what I saw happening to co-workers (this one guy I worked with took a beating unloading his place in Maryland), neighbors (good luck selling in Beulah, ND) and friends. Why take on something so expensive when it’ll transform into an anchor around one’s neck in several years. I thought apartment living was fine. There were its hassles (crappy neighbors, especially the ones who wear cutoffs in the pool…White Trash Chic!) but the stronger tradeoff was mobility, I was in the running to be a Mac Genius for Chicago’s first Apple Store until Somara expressed her disdain over the Windy City.
My position had softened a tad, namely when Kris showed me the place she was having built in Round Rock circa 1998. It was her pitch to stick with Apple over the cushier, lower-paying gig at UT I was being enticed to take.
Around this time a decade ago I started entertaining thoughts of buying a house. My job at Apple was solidifying into a steady matter, same goes with Somara. Jose took the plunge in 1995 and I had a great time crashing there, it didn’t seem to interfere with his bachelor lifestyle. Plus moving practically every year since I was 14 had starting taking its toll; from 1997-2000 I changed addresses seven times!
The first logical location I considered was Austin’s East Side. When I originally moved here in 1994, it was the crappy yet affordable area. Like all cities, the poor had been corralled there since Mueller Airport was at its heart. This shifted around 1999 with the conversion of Bergstrom AFB into the new international civilian airport. I figured now was the time to get on the ground floor before full-blown gentrification would pump the prices to Hyde Park levels. Somara and I made a couple half-hearted efforts but nothing really got rolling.
Then I caught a billboard on the way home from a shift at Kenny’s in Round Rock one Sunday afternoon. It said houses from the $120’s around Pflugerville. Using the simple formula of multiplying my gross income by three and figuring Somara’s salary would make a good, safe buffer, I passed the first hurdle. So I went to the model house to inquire. The lady probably thought I wasn’t serious because I still wearing my coffee shop attire. I cajoled her into giving me a ballpark figure on the cheapest thing this development was offering…$1000/month which included the annual property taxes. The gray matter now started doing the math for simple rule number two, don’t let this exceed 30 percent of my monthly income. Here it was going to be close but Somara’s contribution was enough to succeed. Should our relationship tank, I figured I would rent a room out as Jose had done for years. I told the agent to put me on file, I was interested.
Normally I never gave P-vile much credit. It was on the other side of I-35 when I lived along Wells Branch with Bill and Garrett. The town’s HEB was conveniently nearby and that’s about all she wrote. This development called Sarah’s Creek seemed fair. The proposed batch of houses were within a mile of I-35 and less 10 than from Apple so I knew I wasn’t trading a long-ass drive for an affordable home. (Our current apartment was down the street from work and sat right on 183.) Thus, I figured I’d grow to handle Austin’s first northern suburb. At least it was in ‘Librul’ Travis County’s 10th Congressional District.
Somara’s reaction was surprisingly shocked. I guess she had me pegged for a gypsy because of my numerous, recent moves. We had two cats though and the deposits we had to pay for Molly and Wicca were irksome. It didn’t take long to get Somara onboard with all the positive aspects after we saw the square footage this house had over the current, two-bedroom/two-bathroom apartment.
The land rush came sooner than I expected. It was a phone call from the agent telling me to have $500 ready for a deposit and arrive early to lay dibs on the lots being put up for grabs. Here I was lucky. The 16th competitor got jacked on his/her house’s final price by at least a grand and this repeated for every 15 buyers. A rather dumb system in my opinion. I’d say lower it every 15 instead for these people received fewer choices. Anyway, I was in the first 15 group and tried to snag lot number 13 but I was denied it because someone else had my design choice nearby. I jumped over to 49 figured seven squared sounded nice, success!
A week or two later came the initial planning stages. Which brick color? Which door color? Windows? Garage-door opener? Cable-TV coaxial? Chimney? Ceiling fans? Overall my answers, the baseline or cheapest please. The objective was to keep this house at three times my gross pay or less. We answered all the necessary stuff so the slab could be poured and we’d have a second consultation for the interior around May.
Sometime in early March we snuck into the construction site to see the foundation. Somara noted how small it appeared. I convinced her that things would change when the walls go up, they create the illusion of space. As for me, I was stoked as well terrified on what was going to be my first house.
It all ended up taking a backseat in mid-March with my last journey to Central Illinois which I blather about next month.