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The booms last so long, and are so big, and the busts are reversed so swiftly and completely, that the latter should really be thought of as the bubbles. If yo
by raldi 11y ago
The booms last so long, and are so big, and the busts are reversed so swiftly and completely, that the latter should really be thought of as the bubbles.
If you long at the long-term trend (like the last 20 or 40 years), it's clear that the rising generations want to live in cities much moreso than previous ones did, there's a steady exodus from snowy states to warmer ones, tech isn't going away (except for occasional brief setbacks), and San Francisco and Silicon Valley are going to be the center of that world deep into the foreseeable future.
In other words, yes, a tech crash will happen once or twice every decade, but if you're counting on them to scare everyone else away and let you have the Bay Area all to yourself forevermore, you're in for a rude awakening.
http://my.paragon-re.com/Docs/General/SixtyFortyImages/Case-Shiller_Simpl-Percentages.jpg http://my.paragon-re.com/Docs/General/SixtyFortyImages/Case-...
- douche 11y ago> it's clear that the rising generations want to live in cities much moreso than previous ones did I don't know that it's necessarily that we want to, but we kinda have to. When you're starting off out of college with the kind of debt that your parents didn't have until they bought their first home, you've got to go where the money is. For some reason, it's been decided that packing people into open-office cattle cribs in a handful of cities across the country is the only way to do business... So we pack up and go live in shitty apartments in the city for a few years until we get out of debt-slavery and become skilled enough and connected enough that we can work from the places we actually want to live and raise a family. It pisses me off a little bit. In my home town, I've got two hundred-year-old graves of relatives in the town cemetery, and I grew up in a house built on land that was part of a farm my great-great grandfather owned before the Great Depression. There are the hills and woods I stalked deer and turkeys in, the little mountain ponds I caught trout in, the garden I grew beans and corn and potatoes in with my family. The elementary and high school gyms I shot thousands of hoops in and poured out uncounted gallons of sweat on. I know every tree, every rock that sticks up out of the lawn enough to dull the lawnmower if you don't go around. It's home, in a way that the other places I've had to live and work since then will never be. It just sucks, because there is no work, and so I, along with everyone else in my generation, has had to leave and go out into these concrete jungles and lifeless suburbs to make a living. Someday, I'll have made enough money, and the world will move on enough that I can write software from my living room, and teach my kids how to grow tomatoes in that same patch of dirt.