I’ve been traveling a good bit lately – around town, across state lines, and internationally. And thinking about things. Real estate among them – anyone surprised by that?
All this has me thinking that perspective is key to understanding anything. Depending on where one is standing, things can look a certain way. Shift your position, your perspective shifts, and things look different.
True about life in general, of course, but in the context of this message, true for the business of buying and selling a house.
Over the past 30 days, I’ve spent a week at an all-inclusive in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, 4 days visiting friends in Palm Beach, FL, and 24 hours at a retreat on the mountain in Sewanee, TN.
So, what are the perspectives that emerge …
Location, location, location
I’ve watched the residential market in Palm Beach for a decade, and there is an almost direct correlation to the market here. Simply add a zero to the end of a Nashville price, and you get the Palm Beach price. Same property, different neighborhood, and worth 10 times more. Closer to home, I have a cute house currently listed in Antioch – great for a first-time buyer or a small family. The price of the house is $340,000. In 12 South the land underneath this perfectly livable house would be worth twice that much. It’s all in where you are standing when you look.
Disaster
I was in Punta Cana when the ice storm hit. I talked about this, and about hurricane devastation, with my driver when I was heading back to the airport from the beach. The ice storm, was certainly a disaster for many Nashvillians. But it would have been a mere inconvenience for many Domincans, for whom a mid-range hurricane can mean losing one’s entire existence – one’s house, one’s friends, one’s whole town. Defining disaster depends on who and where you are.
Noise Level
Last weekend I was at an overnight meeting at the retreat center run by St. Mary’s Episcopal Convent in Sewanee. It’s a beautiful place way out in the middle of nowhere, perched on a bluff looking out to a long valley below. Every time I stepped out of my room onto the walkway, I was struck by the absolute absence of noise. We who live in town are so used to the background hum, that we do not hear it until it is gone. The silence on the bluff was almost a presence in and of itself. Defining a “quiet” neighborhood depends on the neighborhood.
All of this brings me back to the fact that residential real estate is a very personal business.
What’s perfect for one person, would be totally out of line for another. A happily-ever-after house for one family, would be hell on Earth for another.
A good realtor’s job is to understand your perspective, and guide you toward the house that will look “exactly right” to you.
