More About Fear than Greed on Halloween

UnknownIt’s Halloween in Santa Cruz. Get your game-faces on. Button up your costumed alter-egos. Here on the reservation, we embrace this night with particular passion.

Tonight, we’re going to conjure up our demons instead of stuffing them down. We’re going to summon our deepest fears while we howl at the moon and dance with delirious abandon. Hopefully, we’ll be able to scare ourselves silly enough to purge all the fear we’ve been binging on this past year.

I’m heading to the big, scary Real Estate Halloween Party that most of you probably don’t even know about. Think Burning Man – but just for Realtors and real estate-related professionals. It always ends at midnight when they crank up the David Byrne song and torch a giant effigy of a suburban stucco tract house.

It started five years ago, back in the dark days of the Great Recession when it felt like real estate was going to hell and fear was running rampant through the marketplace. I’ll never forget that first one…

It took place on a spooky dystopian cul-de-sac in in the middle of nowhere. Filled with foreclosures and boarded-up windows and darkened doorways that resembled the missing teeth and vacant stares of carved-up, hollowed-out pumpkins. Huge cobwebs hung like Spanish moss from For Sale signs leaning at odd angles. Buzzards circled homes in default – marking them as easy prey for all the land sharks prowling the neighborhood.

Everyone was partying like it was 1999. Crazy conga lines of buyers and sellers were snaking through the streets accompanied by wild strains of apocalypso music. Loan brokers in Alan Greenspan masks were handing out Nestle Credit Crunch candybars. Others were handing out wads of Real Estate BubbleGum.

Someone disguised as Naked Greed was streaking through the crowd chased by another character dressed in a skimpy Real Estate Rally Thong. There were Monster Houses milling around everywhere while a roaming Greek chorus of gremlins called “The What-Ifs” was eagerly whispering fearful thoughts into people’s ears with high-pitched, banshee-like voices.

Escrow officers were wandering around in wigs made to look like their hair was on fire. Many of them wore paper-chains fashioned out of loan documents issued by the Government Office of Cosmic Redundancy. One even came decked out as a mummified HUD statement. I saw a couple of Blind Appraisers searching for comps. Groups of Swarming Termites. Sellers dressed up like Statues of St Joseph. Looky-Loos masquerading as InterestedPartiers. Home Inspectors finding everything wrong.

Underwriters were morphing into Undertakers trying to bury the market, declaring that the word mortgage really did originate from the French words for “death tax.” Prophets of Doom and Gloom roamed the cul-de-sac chased by herds of Zombie Buyers even while the growing Legion of Unsolds hid inside their houses. The American Dream was dressed in a black robe and carried a scythe.

The Grinch That Stole the Economy was lugging a bag full of treats labeled Credit Default Swaps while someone else dressed like a Doctor, was running around trying to find a Market Pulse. A few people came as Toxic Assets and the Gordon Gekko mask made a big comeback. Freddie Kruger also made a special guest appearance promoting his new movie – “Nightmare on Main Street.” But he was almost eclipsed by a giant swathe of darkness calling itself the Shadow Inventory.

Wow. What a party. Say what you want about real estate…we do fear well. There are always plenty of lost souls out there wandering around with grave faces on. Gives me goose bumps just to think about it.

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