I’m heartbroken that the housing needs of my fellow citizens are not being met at either the national or local level. It’s especially upsetting when the solution is so simple: build more houses.
But my town, just so you know, is full.
In fact, the last new building that was acceptable and necessary (my house) was completed four months ago, right when I moved here. Yet ever since, the township keeps approving new housing projects. It’s as if our elected officials don’t consider my preferences about how many people should live in this town.
While only a tiny percentage of our ample open space is being used for new housing, that figure doesn’t account for one important fact: I want this town to have the exact amount of open space that was here when I moved in.
Plus, more housing means more people. Listen, I need to drive out of town several times a day to shop at big box stores and roadside strip malls. And every time I do, I get stuck in a couple minutes of traffic because so many out-of-towners forego the big box stores and roadside strip malls to visit our downtown’s charming mom-and-pop shops.
Personally, I wouldn’t mind if every local business closed (except my ten or twelve favorites). If it weren’t for the greedy café, restaurant, and gallery owners making our town so appealing to newcomers, we wouldn’t be suffering from this population growth, which has been out of control since one day after I moved in.
If the township won’t listen to my reasonable request to keep this town exactly as it was when I moved here, I trust the market to intervene. Because even though the United States is suffering a shortage of millions of homes, surely no one will want to move to my town. It’s too crowded with people who are not me.
So if you’re considering moving here, let me warn you: it’s a nightmare.
Other people will sometimes shop at the grocery store at the same time as you. Moreover, unlike in other towns, everyone in front of you at self-checkout will be too slow, and everyone behind you will be too impatient.
If you take selfies at your favorite underappreciated wine bar and post them to social media, you’ll soon find the wine bar has patrons other than you.
Occasionally, someone will ask you for directions to the new arcade even if you’re clearly busy shaking your fist at pigeons who, you’ll swear, were not here three months ago.
Yes, there is a housing crisis. True, there are not enough homes for everyone who needs one. But the bigger issue is that there are already enough homes to house me. Constant concern for people who don’t have homes oppresses those of us who do.
I’m not asking for much. I’m simply demanding that the nation’s badly needed housing be built in any town other than my own.
Except, of course, for the quaint mountain village where I have my country estate and the nearby vibrant city where I have my pied-à-terre. Those are also full.
