Moving to Freedom, .Org

The Sad Plight of Some People

From the Minneapolis StarTribune:

Mark Evenstad and his family, for example, were perfectly content with their 6,500-square-foot house in Woodland on Lake Minnetonka. But when a much-admired house down the street came on the market, they couldn’t say no even before selling their current house.

Evenstad thought it would take six months to sell the two-story brick house, originally priced at $2.3 million. After nearly two years and a new price of $1.895 million, showings have been modest. And somewhat frustrating, too.

A prospective buyer looked at the house eight times to see it at all times of the day — and then wanted to see what it would be like to wake up there. So Evenstad quickly refurnished parts of the house, which had been vacant, with bedroom furniture, linens and a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of pinot noir from the family vineyard to help seal the deal.

The overnighters passed on the house but took the wine with them uncorked.

I’ve been trying to keep it out of my mind and not focus on it that much,” Evenstad said. “But when we look at how healthy our local and national economy is, the paralysis in the market just isn’t warranted.”

—Jim Buchta, “Thanks a million: Priciest homes still sell”

Oh, the troubles of that poor, poor Mr. Evenstad. I just don’t understand why there isn’t a line of people waiting to buy his two million dollar house. I mean, if he can afford to own two homes on the same block on Lake Minnetonka, you’d think someone else could manage to buy just one of them. I feel just awful about all that work they went through to prepare the house, and about the loss of the bottle of wine from the family vineyard.

And those prospective buyers. It can be so difficult to find just the right two million dollar home. Imagine having to make a decision based on seeing a home at only 8 different times of day. And probably only in one season. Even though they put the poor Evenstads through such an ordeal, it’s perfectly understandable that they might not have had just the right vibe upon waking in the house. Maybe the carpet smelled like cat pee.

Such suffering for such fine people just isn’t warranted.