If You Live In A Big Leftist City, Why Haven’t You Moved??

Guest post from John Wilder at Wilder Wealthy Wise.

“I don’t know what you do in New York, but around here we don’t give a man a funeral unless we’re pretty sure he needs one.” – Green Acres

I think I ran over Schrödinger’s cat.  Not sure if I feel guilty or not.

Growing up, Green Acres was one of my favorite television shows.  I was far too young to have seen it in the first run, but the local television station showed reruns that were on after the school bus made it all the way to the top of Wilder Mountain.  The bus rides were long, but I learned a lot about kindness – one time I saw someone give up their seat for a blind student.  In retrospect, the bus driver probably showed poor judgement in letting that blind girl drive.

For those of you that haven’t seen it, Green Acres was about a New York attorney (Oliver Wendell Douglas) that decided he was through with city life.  Mr. Douglas quit his big city life and moved to the rural town of Hooterville.  The show never discusses exactly where Hooterville is, but the best theory is that Hooterville is in the Ozark Mountains in Missouri.

The show was funny in a way that television isn’t now.  Oliver always tried to fit in, but never could quite adjust from his city ways.  A lot of the humor was making fun of that disconnect between Oliver and the humorous cast of townspeople, though the relationship between Oliver and his wife was loving, strong, and funny.  Here’s a scene when there were looking for clothes to donate:

Oliver Douglas:  Why don’t we give away this one?
Lisa Douglas:  No that’s the dress I graduated from high school in.
Oliver Douglas:  How about this one?
Lisa Douglas:  That’s the dress I wore the first day of college.
Oliver Douglas:  [holding a black, low-cut dress] What about this one?
Lisa Douglas:  That’s the one I got expelled in.

Why do I bring this up?

If I ever get a barn I’ll make sure I have an Internet router in there, so I can have stable wifi.

This weekend, The Mrs. and I were snoozing and were listening to the Watchdog on Wall Street, a radio show about investment.  In the latest episode/podcast (Expedition New York – LINK), the host advocated what he called the Sam Kinison solution.  Give good people U-Hauls® so they can leave the cities that are turning into scenes from Mad Max.  “The reality of many urban areas is . . . it’s going to take a long, long time to come back.”

“Move.”

I was slipping in and out of sleep, but discussed the show later with The Mrs.

“He’s right you know.  The era of law in those big cities is over.  The District Attorneys in those large metropolitan areas have been bought and paid for by the far Left (LINK, LINK, LINK and I could go on forever with links).  The DAs are no longer concerned with Justice,” I said.  “These DAs are concerned with Social Justice.  Try to defend yourself in a lot of these large urban monstrosities, and you’ll find out what the inside of a jail cell looks like pretty quickly.  And that scares me because my brother got stabbed in jail.  We took Monopoly® just a bit too seriously when I grew up.”

“Well, they can’t move here.  We’re full.”  That’s not exactly what The Mrs. said, but I can’t repeat it exactly since this is a family-friendly blog.

Although The Mrs. isn’t a social butterfly, she doesn’t exactly hate people.  And it’s not new people moving to Modern Mayberry that was bothering her.  It’s Leftist ideas.

I donated $50 to a Leftist group the other day.  I hope they find a cure.

“They residents of those cities are the reason the cities are in the condition that they’re in.  Then they’ll move here, and want to turn Modern Mayberry into what they left.”

The Mrs. is not wrong.  Here’s an example.

My brother, John Wilder had this problem in his midsized town.  (Yes, his first name really is John as well.  Our parents were caught in a soap opera episode and got amnesia and forgot they had him and named me the same thing by mistake.)  He was at the neighborhood homeowners’ association meeting when they were selecting a trash company.  They recently had an influx of people from the United Soviet Republic of California who had gotten approval to leave the state from the Supreme Soviet.

“Well,” one transplant said, “we certainly must be environmentally friendly.  We should pick the trash company that offers the mandatory recycling.  They only cost $35 more a month.”

After about an hour, my brother talked the homeowners’ association into picking the cheaper trash company.  Is recycling bad?  Not at all.  Junkyards have been recycling cars for decades.  Aluminum recycling makes beer cans cheaper.  But in my brother’s town, the only thing that was really recycled was aluminum – the rest of the trash went into the dump whether or not it was neatly sorted.

That’s what scared The Mrs.

I always get sad after crushing aluminum cans – it’s soda pressing.

Modern Mayberry is nice because it doesn’t have those things the big cities have, including all of their problems.

And the economy appears to be in a pretty bad state.  The dollar bubble appears to be in the first phase of ending.  The gold bubble may be inflating, and inflation will follow a deflation of the dollar, which is exactly as I predicted, but it’s about six months earlier than I had expected.

The median price (right now) for a house in San Francisco is $1,108.  In Modern Mayberry, I couldn’t find a single house that cost more than $100 per square foot.  Sadly, you have to do without all of those San Francisco amenities like people pooping in the streets, riots and the San Francisco 49ers™.  On the plus side, the Oakland Raiders® have moved, and if San Franciscans are lucky, what goes to Vegas stays in Vegas.

This is a true statement.

If I were in Seattle or Portland or New York or any of a dozen other large cities I would be moving if I had children.  The best time to move is ten years ago.  This gives you time to build the relationships and integrate into the community.  In Modern Mayberry, I’m still one of the New Guys, even after a decade.

The second best time is now.  The worst time to move is after the bottom drops out and escaping from New York looks like something that even Kurt Russell couldn’t do on his best day.

And, if you decide to move, here’s hoping that you find a place as nice as Hooterville.  I hear they have good hotscakes there.

Remember that the worst time to move is one day too late.

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