Coffee heat rising

Cost of commuting

Here’s a trade-off for you: Buy a house in the far-flung suburbs to save a few bucks and end up spending half your income on the combined costs of housing and transportation.

In a recent Play-Nooz story, ABC’s Phoenix television station reports that people who think they’re saving money by purchasing in remote suburbs have to pay so much more on automobiles and gasoline that the combined costs of housing and transportation consume about 45 percent of their family income, an amount generally considered unaffordable. Anything this outfit says has to be taken with a large grain of salt, because the reporting can be…well, pretty laughable.

So I checked out this interactive map by the Center for Neighborhood Technology, a nonprofit that promotes urban sustainability. Indeed, it appears that when you combine housing and transportation costs, a large part of the Phoenix Metropolitan Area becomes unaffordable. Factoring in housing costs alone does cause a larger region to consume less than 30 percent of the family income. Add transport to the mix, and you see that more people spend 45 percent or more of family income on driving plus housing.

At first glance, this sounds credible, given the astonishing cost of gasoline. I have no car payment, yet in the past month I’ve paid almost $110 just for gas—and I haven’t gone anywhere except up to the college and to a few stores, most of them on my way to and from the college. If I had to pay $300 to $600 a month for a car, as many people do, transportation expenses would run 18 to 32 percent of my income—when I’m teaching three sections. In the summer, when I can’t get a job, such costs would consume 31 to 71 percent of net income.

Spend a few moments studying the housing-only map, though, and you’ll see that large parts of the “drive until you qualify” burbs never offered any bargains. The Southeast Valley—Chandler, Gilbert, Mesa, Tempe—is pricier than the close-in districts to start with. Granted, they’re new, shiny developments (so shoddily built that they won’t stay that way for long…), and granted, the city of Phoenix has done everything it can to thump centrally located neighborhoods. (The city and the county are run by developers—they take office on boards of supervisors and the city council. It’s in their interest ensure that the central city deteriorates, fostering white flight, so that people will buy their plaster-and-Styrofoam houses in the ever-expanding sprawl.) Scottsdale has always been ridiculously expensive; it’s an enclave of whiteness that has worked to develop a upscale reputation. The area to the northwest is largely occupied by retirement communities; cost of housing and taxes are lower there because of the downward pressure exerted by the demographic. The area to the south of the central city has been low-rent from the git-go; much of it is dangerous slum, schools are horrific, and few who can afford to live elsewhere willingly settle there.

So, I would argue in the first place that new suburban housing is more expensive than centrally located middle-class housing. It’s not true that people buy in the sticks to save money; they buy in the sticks for demographic reasons (if you don’t know whereof I speak, consider the latest bit of hilarity from the state house, which reflects the tenor of our elected leadership) and because they hope for schools that are more or less adequate. People who buy for those reasons don’t concern themselves with the cost of transportation—they regard it as just part of the cost of living.

When you add the cost of automobiles to the cost of housing, you do get a total that consumes way too much of net income. However, Drachman Institute Associate Director Marilyn Robinson’s claim that “If a household can get rid of one car, they can increase their available income by approximately $8,500 a year. They can do that if they have access to good and frequent transit service and if their neighborhoods include amenities like shops and recreation within walking distance” is an absurdity, at least where Arizona cities are concerned.

Few central or suburban neighborhoods are within walking distance of “shops and recreation.” The two  grocery stores closest to my house are in unsafe areas and are overpriced specifically because residents living nearby can’t afford cars and so form a kind of captive consumer base. These stores can charge anything they please, because too many of their customers can’t easily shop at the competition. The closest grocery store where I feel safe to get out of my car in the parking lot is three and a half miles from my house. Bicycling over the homicidal streets is out of the question, and you can be very sure I’m not walking seven miles in 110-degree heat to buy a few groceries.

There is no credible public transportation here. Buses are slow, unholy inconvenient, uncomfortable, and full of unwashed and often scary transients—the homeless mentally ill, of whom we have a large population, use the buses and lightrail as rolling air-conditioned space. They ride around and around to stay cool (or, in winter, warm) and to come out from under the oleanders for awhile. The lightrail system is a cute novelty but less than useful for commuting and shopping. Though a bus does run up to the college, the city is about to discontinue that line by way of cost-cutting, and it’s not a viable means to get there—even if the buses were comfortable and safe, I wouldn’t think of spending an hour or more to make a ten-minute drive.

Thus there really is no part of the city where a family with two adults, both of whom work, would not genuinely need to own two cars.

So the Housing and Transportation Affordability Index doesn’t tell you much, except that owning a car is expensive and that housing in the aging central part of the city is cheaper than housing in the shiny new suburbs.

Try the maps on a metro area that does have decent public transit, such as the San Francisco Bay Area, and you get a different picture. Housing costs there are so high it doesn’t much matter whether you have to drive. Another highly desirable area, one supposedly designed for sustainability, is Portland, Oregon: again, housing costs in the outlying suburbs appear to be far higher than those in the central city; add the cost of transportation, and few areas are affordable. In New York City, equipped with a large and much-used public transit system, mode of commuting seems to make little difference in affordability. Houston residents, however, pay a high premium for commuting. For people who live around New Orleans, commuting apparently is quite a burden; however, that may be a function of low incomes there. Change the demographic on the maps from “regional typical household” to “national typical household” and the cost of living looks pretty moderate, whether you drive to work or not.

So, I don’t know what all this means. It’s not cheap to drive a car. But on the other hand, riding public transportation isn’t cheap, either: riding buses and trains costs something, and cities with full-service systems have high taxes and a high cost of living. While I’m not pleased about having to pay $110 for gasoline—almost twice what I budgeted for—the cost is far from drastic enough to get me out of my car. Even if it were, there’s really no choice, and so the issue is moot.

How much does it cost you to get around your city? And if you add your typical cost of transportation to your cost of shelter, what proportion of your income does the total consume?

Sold! Real estate returns to normal in our neighborhood

Incredibly, the rental house across the street, occupied of late by the obnoxious Biker Boob and Bobbie McGee, sold for $250,000. That’s dead center in the ball park of what houses were worth here before prices got stupid.

I was afraid it would be bought by yet another absentee landlord. But at that price, it’s unlikely they can rent it for enough to cover the mortgage—rental prices are still very depressed here.

Better yet, they’ve plopped a big dumpster in the driveway and sent workmen in there to gut out the interior! It looks like they’re rebuilding the kitchen—a decrepit dishwasher is sitting in the driveway waiting to be hauled off, and carpenter-like guys have been swarming over the place for the past two weeks.

So. This is a good sign. That’s twenty grand more than I paid for my house, and it’s about twenty-one thousand more than SDXB got for the same model. He sold way too low—the house was grabbed up  less than 24  hours after he put it on the market. So I’d estimate the price is about where it should be for that model.

Now…if we would just, please, see the same thing happen in the neighborhood where the downtown house resides…  We’re $75,000 underwater there, according to the ever-heartbreaking Zillow. But that’s because everything that’s sold there over the past three years or so has been a foreclosure, with the exception of one house that sold at a fire-sale price. Once all the foreclosures are cleared out, maybe values will begin to return to normal in that area, too.

20 Great Time-Wasters of My Life

Hah! Scored an amazing 219,400 points on Bookworm before one of the flaming tiles reached the bottom row. Two of the astonishing words formed during this time-killing jag racked up more than 3,000 points apiece.

Amazing, indeed. Amazing waste of time. I justify it by theorizing that I need a break after having made it half-way through 439 of the most boring, pointless, annoying pages of copy I have ever edited in my life. We all need a break now and then, right?

Of course, I could’ve taken a break by trimming the dead roses off the plants, maybe making way for a new bloom before the heat gets too impossible.

Does it ever seem to you that there are altogether too many time-wasting phenomena in your life? When you come to the end of the day and you haven’t gotten a heck of a lot done but you think you’ve been sorta busy, what have you been doing? Here are a few explanations on my list:

  1. Bookworm
  2. Mah Jong
  3. USA Today Crosswords
  4. Uncle Jay Explains the News
  5. Boomshine
  6. PointlessSites.com
  7. StumbleUpon
  8. Checking the stock market
  9. Cleaning house (doesn’t do any good: it just gets dirty again!)
  10. Driving (risking your life while waiting to get from Point A to Point B)
  11. Reading the vitriolic commentary on the local Play-Nooz
  12. Trying to teach students what a comma splice is
  13. BlackBoard Academic Suite, the single greatest time-consumer known to humankind, guaranteed to cut your pay rate from $15/hour to 15¢/hour
  14. Navigating punch-a-button telephone mazes
  15. Trying to comprehend bureaucratic rules
  16. Talking to bureaucrats who don’t understand their own bureaucracy’s rules
  17. Tracking too many bank and brokerage accounts
  18. Waiting for a pan to fill under one of those accursed water-conserving faucets
  19. Checking blog stats
  20. Figuring out workarounds in HTML and various programs to make things happen the way I wish.

Most of these, I’m afraid, are self-inflicted time-wasters, though I decline to take responsibility for phone trees, opaque bureaucrats, online courseware that operates at the speed of a galloping snail, and misguided “good”-for-the-environment plumbing inventions.

What wastes your time?

Women’s Work: A Manifesto

Simple Life in France recently wrote on a subject that seems to be worrying a number of women in my circle. It’s a concern that speaks with profound irony to women d’un certain âge. “What would my husband think,” she wonders, if she decided never to go back to work but instead to devote herself to being…ah, let’s say it: “just a housewife?” And into “what he would think,” let’s read the more invidious “what would everyone else think?”

A dear friend of mine here is wrestling with the same questions. She’s contemplating making her escape from the day job sometime in the near future. She agonizes about the prospect of searching for another job, full- or part-time, when in reality she very likely would be happy and successful taking care of her husband and their beautiful home and expansive semirural property. Though she recognizes she needs a break from the work world—possibly a permanent one—she also feels that she should be contributing to the finances of the marital community. Her husband earns a good living that will support them well; their child is out of the home and married; and so the question of whether she should be working is not a matter of necessity but of conscience.

It’s the conundrum of the post-feminist middle-class woman. We’ve gone, over the course of a single lifetime, from a social milieu in which few women were even allowed to work to one where women not only can do just about any job they please but are expected to work, whether they want to or not. By “work,” of course, we continue to mean work two jobs: the day job plus the other full-time occupation of caring for a man, his children, and their dwelling.

The subtext for both Simple’s and my friend’s conflict—and it’s an important one—is “how will I be valued?”

We live in a culture where a person’s value is measured in dollars. The more you earn, the better you must be as a human being, right? And so what does it mean when a woman earns no dollars? A woman who has focused her whole life’s energies on being “just a housewife” receives exactly zero credit toward Social Security. More humiliating, her Social Security benefits, if any, will be tied to her husband’s, and only if she has earned less than half of what he is entitled to…assuming she stays married to the guy long enough. What does that mean?

Unwittingly (perhaps), we’ve not freed women, but instead we have further institutionalized the little-womaning of the American housewife. As feminists, we’ve done it by insisting that women must fulfill some imagined “full potential,” which we have situated in the commercial workplace. As a culture, we’ve done it by raising the cost of living so high that a single paycheck will no longer support a family in a middle-class lifestyle. And we see it in the not-so-subtle message implicit in that Social Security rule.

We as women need to rethink the value of what we are and what we do, and we need to disconnect that value from the dollar. Let’s consider what’s entailed in working as “just a housewife.”

For starters, a woman who lives and works at home takes on the following base responsibilities:

She raises and educates children (let’s face it: most of a kid’s education happens in the home).

She shepherds the children through public school and works to extract the most value with the least harm from the institutional system.

She cleans and cares for a house or apartment.

She may care for a yard and garden, often including small farm animals and large pets.

She designs meals and cooks them.

She shops for food, clothing, furnishings, household goods, and all other necessities and luxuries.

She budgets and handles money.

She cleans, a job that (as you’ll know if you’ve ever hired cleaning help) is a great deal more complex than we give it credit for.

She decorates and maintains a comfortable sanctuary from the outside world.

She does minor repair work around the house and property.

She sees to the maintenance of the cars.

She does sex work.

She volunteers at schools, churches, and community nonprofits.

She cares for elderly parents, whether her own or her husband’s.

In her husband’s old age, she may spend her own elder years caring for a sick old man.

In the course of learning to do these jobs over a lifetime, she attains skills in child development, bookkeeping, money management, hygiene, chemistry, nutrition, first aid, child care, elder care, gardening, interior decor, crafts, cuisine, entertainment, the arts of sexuality. If she volunteers outside the home, she builds knowledge and skills in subjects such as early childhood education, social work, event management, newsletter editing and publishing, office operations, and who knows what else.

That’s if she’s an ordinary, garden-variety just-a-housewife.

Let’s suppose she either is a particularly energetic, college-trained woman or she happens to marry a professional or business owner and so is expected to perform as what we might, in old-fashioned terms, call a society matron. In that case, she gets up to these sorts of things:

She represents her family unit and raises its profile through civic volunteerism and leadership.

She participates in elite service groups such as Junior League. In doing so, she takes on middle-management to executive-level responsibilities in one or more civic organizations.

She serves on the board of directors of one or more civic or nonprofit organizations, such as a museum, a social service agency, or a citizens’ group.

She hires and supervises household and landscaping staff to manage the house in her absence.

She entertains clients and colleagues in the home and at venues such as clubs and professional meetings.

She entertains and socializes with her husband’s partners’ wives, and in doing so collects intelligence on behind-the-scenes matters that may prove valuable for her husband’s career or investment strategies.

She builds and markets her husband’s profile in the community.

As a society matron—or, in more contemporary language, the partner of a professional—our just-a-housewife develops and engages all of the basic skills we’ve seen above plus management of household and landscaping staff, management of volunteers, event management, catering, public relations, marketing, fund-raising, office work, social work, fiduciary management, and a wide variety of other skills and knowledge specific to individual nonprofit organizations. If she has a college degree in business or some other technical field, she may apply that training to her unpaid civic work exactly as she would do in the workplace.

In either event—whether she focuses her energy and activities on her home, husband, and children or whether she also engages in civic voluntarism—the just-a-housewife manifests a wide variety of skills that, in any other context, would command a decent salary. Make that several decent salaries.

But because she doesn’t command a salary, we think of her as “just a housewife.” And she wonders if her husband (friends, in-laws, former roommate, college classmates) will value her.

My point here is that a woman is worth more than money. What she does can’t be measured in dollars, and so her worth can’t be measured in the currency of the marketplace.

When we feminists of the 1960s and 70s agitated to allow women into the marketplace, we did so because we wanted our daughters and grand-daughters to have a choice. We wanted women to be able to choose to enter the world of work, in any capacity, and not to be limited to the home or to menial, ill-paying jobs.

Choice works both ways. To be able to choose to do something means to be able to choose not to do something.

“Women’s work” and skills have great value—really, whether they’re engaged by a woman or by a man. A man, too, should have the choice to do or not to do, to work outside the home or not to work outside the home. The work we do, the knowledge and wisdom we possess should be valued for what they are, not for what they’re paid.

Of what real value are the bankers and financiers who so fabulously enriched themselves at the expense of the entire developed world’s economy? Of what value is the highly paid tobacco executive, captain of an industry devoted to sickening and killing its customers? These men and women are highly paid in the workplace, but we see their value as human beings: negative equity, we might say.

Value yourself for what you are and what you do, not for what you’re paid. Value yourself, and others around you will value you.

And, my friends, let us take up the torch again: demand choice, not bondage—neither to the home nor to the marketplace.

As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days;
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.

James Oppenheimer, “Bread and Roses

So…you thought YOU were having a bad hair day?

There you are, driving along one of the mainest of the main drags in the fifth-largest metropolis in the nation. You get into the left turn lane of the Vast Main Drag A so as to turn south onto Vast Main Drag B, you pull into the intersection preparatory to making your turn, and….your car bursts into flames!

Soon all the employees of the nearby bank and the various grocery stores, expensive boutiques, insurance  and financial offices, and local corporate headaquarters are standing on the sidewalks watching your car self-immolate.

The Fire Department comes roaring up and stops traffic in all four directions. Now scores of homicidal drivers are cursing your name (if they don’t know your name, they make it up). Collective eons of time are wasted. Your insurance adjuster no doubt thinks you are…well, just another pain in the tuchus.

{sigh}

Luckily for me, as I was approaching said intersection minutes after the Bad Hair Day Victim’s car decided to destroy itself, I managed to dodge into the bank’s parking lot, maneuver my way onto the perpendicular main drag, and make my way across Vast Main Drag A (now conveniently brought to a halt) into the parking lot of Ridiculously Overpriced Gourmet Grocery Store, the purveyor of the sushi I wished to carry out for lunch. This would be the “it’s all about me” response. In reality I felt very bad for the poor soul whose car was melting down in the middle of the intersection.

Sushi packed away in the Dog Chariot, it was back to the Road Home.

Do I get home without incident?

Hell, no. At the intersection of Ordinary Main Drag A and Ordinary Main Drag B, what do I find but a chain wreck—at least four cars involved, two of which are totaled. Another road is completely shut down. Again, I manage to dodge around the closed road and continue on my way. Otherwise, presumably the sushi (and I) would still be cooking in the 90-degree  heat.

Holy mackerel! Just when you get yourself wound up about every GD light turning red as you drive up to it, you’re snapped back to reality, here on the homicidal streets of Phoenix.

Image: Ben Schumin, Aftermath of a Car Fire in Silver Spring, Md. Creative CommonsAttribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

Decoding the Tax Code

CBS Marketwatch reports that New Hampshire Republican Senator Judd Gregg and Oregon Democratic Senator Ron Wyden are proposing a new attempt to simplify the tax code. For the average Jane and Joe on the street, it will mean a briefer and clearer one-page tax return form. Our present six tax brackets would be reduced to three—15 percent, 25 percent, and 35 percent. And the corporate tax rate would drop from 35 percent to 24 percent.

It won’t pass, of course, because it eliminates a bunch of lucrative tax breaks for corporations (to say nothing of putting an entire cohort of tax accountants out of work). But at least it’s an effort to make a step in the right direction.

That so many ordinary Americans have to hire a tax accountant to figure out their taxes—often paying more for tax preparation than is owed on taxes!—is just outrageous. This year I paid my tax lawyer $460 to prepare the tax return for the S-corporation, which owed no taxes at all. I paid a like amount to discover that I owed the feds $770 in federal taxes and to extract a $1,000 refund from the state. I have to do that because the absurdly complicated tax rules are utterly incomprehensible to me. There’s no way to understand them, because they make no sense and because they’re couched in cryptic language—only an expert can figure out what they mean and how to apply them, and even the experts regularly make mistakes.

What’s refreshing is to see a “Bipartisan Tax Fairness and Simplification Act.” It’s long past time Republicans and Democrats of good will set aside the pig-headed partisanship and started to work together on the things that matter to the American people.

If people of good will do not step forward to overcome the corrosive divisiveness this country has seen, we will, I believe, be at risk of civil war within another generation—possibly sooner. When political leaders descend into demagoguery and talk about putting those who don’t agree with them “in the crosshairs” so that their followers start to rage about doing violence to elected officials, even the President of the United States, it’s inevitable that violence will follow.

On both sides, the leadership of this country needs to cut off the shackles of partisanship and extremism and come together to lead. Gregg and Wyden’s proposal is at least a tiny sparkle of light from that direction.