Why I Don’t Want to Be a Homeowner (for now)

Owning A Home Versus Full Time RVingThere are lots of good reasons to own a home. You don’t have to worry about being kicked out of your place without warning. You don’t have to write a check to some fat cat landlord every month. And you can paint your walls whatever colors you damn well please.

But there are twice as many reasons why owning a home sucks. Property taxes. Insurance. Yard work. Wet basements. Ceilings that fall down without warning.

This week, Jim and I have been reminded about why we decided to cut the shackles of homeownership.

We’ve been parked in the yard of my sister-in-law’s beautiful old home in Troy, New York. It’s 4-stories, built in the early 1900s, similar to the antique money pit that we owned in Eureka, CA. And, it shares many of the same issues that ours did, and then some.

Owning A Home Versus Full Time RVingLike how it took me over an hour to vacuum the house (we’ve got free rent this week, it was the least I could do). Then we spent more time running up and down stairs cleaning the bathrooms, doing our laundry, etc. Most of our day was spent on domestic duties. Just like old times.

Then, on Saturday, the guest bathroom’s plaster ceiling collapsed over the clawfoot tub. Just fell down, without warning.

And last night, we came home to find water in the basement. The very old boiler has a crack in it, and it will need to be replaced. And it won’t be cheap. “Forget about the new kitchen,” Barb’s husband warned.

Owning A Home Versus Full Time RVingBeing a homeowner isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. Residing in a 200 sq. ft. box that takes about 15 minutes to clean, top to bottom, is a cakewalk. I highly recommend it. At least for a little while.

4 thoughts on “Why I Don’t Want to Be a Homeowner (for now)”

  1. I’m with you folks on the house ownership side of things, I’d rather own Oracle or Google because you can make lots of money and pay people to wash and walk your dog, so I’m with you guys as home ownership does not compare. Say you’ve got a 20 to 100 million in the bank, what would you rather do, hang drywall or buy a fresh wardrobe for your schnauzer? I say hop in the Bentley and go give those ermine booties a home on the paws of your little joy machine.

    Hey, look at me, I’m installing copper plumbing, yippee! Not even, wouldn’t spitting Crystal from the window of your Hummer onto the homeless simply help that already canyon wide smile go even wider? You bet it would. Taping, texturing, and painting are just words that should rest easy in the dictionary, what I’m suggesting is that folks should just take it plain easy and bust a move on some slobber sticks (cigars) and let the captain throw down 23 knots as you get a little prissy about which island cove to anchor at – now that is what I’m talkin’ about folks, are you with me?

    No Eric, we’d rather put down a few beads of caulk and re-stain the front porch, sure you would, sure you would not! Don’t even for one moment attempt to look me in the eyes with that proud do-it-yourself righteousness, with your sanctimonius thumbs hooked into your carpenter’s belt, with sawdust and spackle on your pants and shoes and tell me that you’d rather remodel the upstairs bathroom than pick the interior colors for your Gulfstream V!? Yeah right!

    Let’s get straight on our priorities people, you don’t want to work on a depreciating asset, you want to be making young “nieces” giggle from your apartment in Paris, well, don’t you?

    Nah Eric, I’m all about what’s on the inside, I’m the kind of person who takes pride in his work and home. I’m about doing the right thing for the environment and about feeling the weight of some seriously deep shame when I’m late on my annual donation to P.E.T.A – yeah, sure buddy, I hear the violins with their plaintive weeping. Yeah, sure, you’d rather run Romex throughout the house and show a busted knuckle or two when you drink your canned beer than discuss the merits of Henry James while sipping a smooth Bordeaux in first-class on the way to Macau.

    Jeeze, I can hear your cheap, stinky belches while I’m typing.

    For shame says I.

    Know thy economic self and all will follow.

    Hey, where am I?



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