Live Forever or Die Trying

Here are some better pictures of the exteriors of the townhomes we’re looking at.

Kaston and I found these really nifty little spanish-style townhomes in Carrollton that are very reasonably priced. We both think that one of them would make a perfect starter home for us; we’re really excited about it! Anyhow, here are some pictures (some are from the MLS realty database, some I took).

Kaston and I have been looking around lately at various options for home ownership. We’ve talked to a mortgage broker at Wells Fargo, talked to a realtor, and have been looking at lots of new townhome developments around the Lewisville/Carrollton area.

Kaston is pretty much set on buying a house (or townhome/condo) at this point, and says that there is no way she wants to continue renting when our current lease runs out in January (be it at the same apartments or elsewhere).

After talking to some guys up here at work and reading articles like this one, though, I’m not feeling so sure about buying a home right now. The housing market has been going downhill for a year or so now, and until it shows signs of stopping I feel like we might be getting ourselves into a financial black hole (especially if we do a zero-down mortgage like we would need to if we wanted to buy a house before January).

So I just wanted to get opinions from the various folks who read our blog. Should we buy a new home/townhome or fixer-upper (and either fold costs for improvements into our mortgage or spread out various home improvements over a few years as we have the available savings) before interest rates go up? Or should we continue to rent and save up a down payment for when the housing market really bottoms out and we can get better appreciation of the home (if perhaps not quite as good an interest rate)?

We’re at the point right now where our finances are finally well under control. We’ve got two incomes now, and our student debt is getting payed off rapidly. I just want to get some advice from all of you older and/or wiser members of our friends and family to help us make the best decision.

With my profession consisting almost entirely of me sitting in front of a computer, I rarely get opportunities to do things with my hands other than type. That’s why I was looking forward to doing some work on my motorcycle this last Saturday; it would give me a chance to get my hands dirty (which I did - they’re still pretty cut up and greasy under the fingernails two days later).

Specifically, I needed to clean the carbs on my bike. When we moved to our new apartment over a year and a half ago, I was suddenly walking distance from work. I parked my bike in the garage, and ended up not touching it for pretty much a full year. I had always intended on getting it out every few weeks and riding it around, but this was when Spy Hunter was going into full crunch mode so between that and me just being lazy I never got around to it. When I finally got the bike out a few months ago it barely ran. I replaced the battery and ran a bunch of gas-additive carb cleaner through it, but it was still very rough.

So on Saturday I took off the gas tank, disconnected everything from the carbs (gee, writing it like that makes that part seem simple - in reality, the throttle cables are a real bitch to disconnect, and getting the little rubber tubes between the carbs and the airbox in and out scraped up my knuckles something fierce), and slid them out from the side of the bike. I took them apart and soaked the parts in a little tub of carb cleaner liquid, sprayed carb cleaner through all of the little passages and jets, and scrubbed everything down with a toothbrush.

Around then I drove Kaston up to work, and stopped at the store again on the way home to get a pair of needle-nose pliers to make reconnecting the throttle cables a little easier. Once everything was cleaned off, I managed to put it all together, and it still looked more or less like a motorcycle.

So then the moment of truth… After having my motorcycle in pieces to a level I’d only done once before (when I was doing the valve clearance checks, and I had Dad and Granddad there then in case things went south), cleaning everything off, and putting it back together, I turned the key to On and hit the starter button…

And it started! The difference is pretty incredible - the engine is so much smoother. I put on my various safety gear and rode the bike up to Buffalo Wild Wings to have some dinner and a well-deserved Shiner Bock.

Breaks squealed at the red light adjacent to our apartment, but that happens several times a day. I always listen to see if there will be a crash following it, but there never has been.

CRASH!!!!

Running to the door and pushing back the blinds, I saw a white SUV rolling down the street with its hood dragging on the ground making an awful noise. I jumped up and told Dean to grab my cell phone in case 911 needed to be called and then flew out of the door in my pajamas. As I ran down the sidewalk, I heard a neighbor on her balcony calling 911 and describing the situation in earnest. I heard her say it was a hit and run, so I ran faster to make sure no one was injured.

I rounded the corner of the apartment office to see a now stopped white SUV. Panting and adrenaline flowing, I picked up the pace even more. Nothing moved in the vehicle; a rivulet of gas flowed down the street into the gutter.

An older lady was approaching with me and we both tried to look into the dark interior, but could not see much.

Fumbling with my phone, I got the built in flashlight on and started looking into the windows. It was very messy, but other than that empty. I glanced around to see a dark figure in the distance running like hell out of the lighted portions of the street.

The lady said to me, “look into the glove box”, and then she started to walk away.

Dean, now dressed, came around the bend and ran to me. Just then the police sirens could be heard and he went towards the intersection to flag them down.

There, he saw the car that had been hit and the police making a road block with their cars. He got one of the policemen to come to me and the car I was at. I told him what I had seen and he proceeded to search the vehicle. I was frustrated that he did not instantly get in his car and go after the person who fled, but I would find out why later.

Dean came back to me along with the neighbor that called 911. She told us what she had seen and we chatted a bit while the police, 3 now, looked over the SUV. It was then that I glanced down the street to see a cop car scanning the brush with their search light, which set my mind at ease but also made me feel foolish that I did not trust the police to do their jobs!

I felt like a silly onlooker one might see in the TV show Cops, so I asked the officer if he needed anything else from us. He thanked me for sticking around and said that most people don’t. He took my name, number, and apartment number and thanked me again for the help. I wished them luck in the search, and hand in hand, Dean and I walked back to the apartment.

Dean told me on the walk back that he had come out to make sure I was okay. I laughed and said that I did not even think about any dangers to myself, like if the driver was in the vehicle, and was drunk/high, and had a gun or something. I was just concerned that someone might be hurt.

I will look tomorrow to see if I can’t find a news story or something about it. I want to know if they caught the scumbag that hit someone and then ran.

If you run from an accident, that means you think that it was bad enough for someone to get really hurt, or you just really don’t want police attention for any of a myriad of reasons.