Three for the price of one tonight:

Story the First

For reasons unknown, I’ve recently developed a desire to start bicycling on a regular basis. I like riding a bike, and I could certainly use the exercise. One small problem: I don’t own a bike. Naturally, the solution to this predicament is to exchange currency for an acceptable machine.

I did some research on the web and decided to check out some bikes in person. I hopped in the Bimmer, turned the key, modulated the gear lever, and was off.

It was night by the time I left the condo. I chose to take I-35E south to Erik’s Bike Shop in Bloomington, not far from the Mall of America. The 5’s xenon torches lit up the surprisingly desolate road in front of me as the ink of darkness slipped past.

I wasn’t really paying attention to driving. My nearest automobile neighbor was a solid 1/8^th mile behind me. By this time, I was leisurely cruising west on I-494, gradually approaching a bridge over the Minnesota River. My radio was off. The engine was purring. There was no wind noise, and I had eliminated the only annoying rattle. Everything was peaceful.

Then, all of a sudden, I notice a pair of blacked-out state patrol squad cars sitting on the shoulder no more than 200 yards in front of me. Crap! I glanced down at the speedometer. 75. In a 60. Crap! I reflexively hit the brakes, which slowed me to a more acceptable speed, and watched the rear-view mirror for signs that I would be plucked from the herd.

But that never happened. The cherries stayed dark, and the squads stayed parked. Passed up for a bigger fish, I guess.

With the topic fresh in my mind, I started thinking about recent traffic stops that I had witnessed. I noted an odd trend: in my memory, it seemed like the vast majority of the stopped cars were POS beaters with one working headlight and excessive amounts of an adornment called “rust.” I figured that the cops were doing some sort of socioeconomic profiling. I even had the vanity to think that, thanks to my lack of rust and working headlamps, I was perhaps immune to being pulled over.

As if on cue, as soon as I had that last thought, I noticed a car that was part of an active traffic stop. One stopped car, one trooper cruiser, lights flashing. I rubber-necked to see what type of poor soul was getting acquainted with John Q. Law. I expected to see some mid-Seventies Nova with the bumper falling off the back.

No, I saw a late-model, shiny, fully-operational, silver BMW.

Providence smiled.

——

At risk of opening a can of worms, I’m going to bring up (very briefly) the case of Terri Schiavo. I’ll assume that you haven’t been living in a cave and have a general idea of the case. I have three comments:

• I’m disappointed that Congress voted to transfer jurisdiction to the federal courts. It was a state matter, and numerous Florida state courts had already handled it. Plus, as numerous pundits have already pointed out (but I repeat here because I agree), such a move sets a dangerous precedent against states’ rights.
• If I were a vegetable for more than a decade, I’d want somebody to pull the plug. In fact, if I were reduced to the mental capacity of a young child, and had no hope of recovery, I wouldn’t want to stick around. There would be no chance that I could make a productive contribution to society, so I would just be wasting space and energy. One of my greatest fears is losing my mental acuity.
• After watching some videos of Terri in her current condition, I can honestly say that I understand why her parents are reluctant to give up. The stricken woman is not comatose; rather, she blinks, she moves, she seems to make what look like facial expressions. Yeah, the videos are undoubtedly edited to be propaganda. Yes, even my simple-minded dog can follow directions better than Terri. For that matter, the dog can even make what I perceive as facial expressions. Nonetheless, I now have a better appreciation for the other side of the debate.

——

Thinking about buying a house in the relatively near future? I’ve been thinking about it, trying to weigh the benefits of low interest rates against the possibility of significantly slowed housing appreciation (or even depreciation).

In my research, I stumbled upon an interesting report. The report, produced by The PMI Group (a major private mortgage insurer), focuses on the risk of interest-only mortgages. However, the part I found really interesting was the two-page chart showing housing appreciation rates in major U.S. cities. More than that, it compares the home price changes with the labor market and draws conclusions about affordability and (this is the kicker) the probability of a decline in housing prices. Topping the list is Boston, which PMI pegs at a 53% chance of seeing depreciation in the next two years. Other notable locales: San Francisco at 48%, the Twin Cities at 26%, and Indianapolis at 6%. The reason this is notable is because highly leveraged home buyers are dependent on housing prices to continue their rapid ascent, and big problems can emerge when that doesn’t hold true.

A bit unnerving, yes, but not a certainty. If history has taught us anything, it’s that soothsayers are seldom correct.