It’s all Crashing – ‘They’ said it was! I’ll Never Sell My House.

It’s all Crashing – ‘They’ said it was! I’ll Never Sell My House.

The following offering comes with this disclaimer:

**I love my sister.  She is one of the most caring, generous and empathetic souls I have ever known, but…!

If ever there was an avatar for the Australian morning show/news bulletin watcher, my sister Barb fits the bill perfectly. And to top it off she is a Real Estate junkie of epic proportions – even though she has lived in the same home for 34 years and the only way she is leaving is ‘in a pine box’, just like my poor old mum did.

The suggestion: “You could always sell your home” is blasphemy to Barb. And she’s like a cat playing with a mouse, before execution, when local agents knock on her door to see if it might be time for her to sell up.

She is one of the 300,000 or so who watch Kochie and Co. in the morning, and then slurps up the fast food news at 6pm along with a few million other Aussies.

And best of all – she believes it.

It’s crashing, it’s going down…

Earlier this week, Barb and her husband Pete, came to visit and stayed with us for a few days to help celebrate her birthday.

All mornings in my place are relaxed and quiet.  No TV, no radio – just quiet contemplation and preparation of a healthy breakfast. No, I don’t live in a monastery, but clear thinking begins with less mind clutter.

That had to change, temporarily, with Barb’s visit.  Kochie and Co. were summoned to beam into the loungeroom, “I’ll turn it right down.”

As I was pottering in the kitchen, checking a few emails and getting my thoughts in order, the silence was shattered…

“Craig, Craig!  Its crashing, its going down….”

“What?!” as I trotted into the lounge room.

“They said that property is going down 40%.  It’s going to crash.”

“Who is ‘they’?”

“Them, the show…”

“Who? Which ‘expert’?”

“Well, they just said it.”

I looked at the screen and saw four muppets sitting behind an impressive desk, with more muppets standing outside looking in, hoping that Aunty Beryl, at home, was watching and could see them waving like – well, muppets.

This collection of ‘I sit behind a desk, in front of a camera, and read a heap of shit that makes you think I am expert’ muppets get paid to pump out verbal diarrhea designed to frighten you and keep you vibrating as the lowest level possible, therefore controlling your thoughts and behaviours.

I have shared this with Barb (and my dear departed mum) more times than I can remember.

“Who was the ‘expert’ Barb?”

“They just said it…”

Read this if you want my current take on the market.

“Look, you know what I think about this crap.  The market IS NOT going to crash. I’ve told you a million times – it’s taking a breather, buyers were not going to keep chasing prices, and in 6-12 months it will be ‘ON for young and old’, again!

“Ok, but they…”

“They are pretty idiots, Barb.  One minute all you punters are believing that the blond one has her finger on the pulse of life, then the next, the news of who she is bumping uglies with has you all in raptures.  Please stop watching this shit…how do you want your eggs?”

In one ear and out the other.

Yet, only a day or so later, the doom and gloom headlines were broken by this article, which seemed to confirm that things aren’t as dim as they sim – and tells me that bargain hunters will drive the market along.

We all have a choice of who we listen to, but the crap we absorb for free, through our idiot boxes, can be the most dangerous of all the information we seek.

 

 

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