The frog was placed in the pot of cool, pleasant water. He looked comfortable, as if he had chosen this pot to be his new home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to the frog as the water’s temperature gently rose. The frog was oblivious to the danger of complacency. Eventually the water came to a boil, the frog…
I had wanted to live in Beachwood in the worst way and literally succeeded at that goal. I spent six years in the Hamptons apartments where I moved after selling my house in Shaker Heights. My new neighbors in 2006 were professionals or people who had sold their homes and had downsized to an apartment. Initially, I was, at 51, the youngest resident of my wing. I leave the oldest. The move-ins and move-outs of 2006 were choreographed by the professionals of North American Van Lines, Weiss, and other qualified movers. The residents now arrive Beverly Hillbilly style with all of their worldly possessions tied to the top of a pickup truck.
It would be easy to use the next four hundred words to torch the management, cleanliness, and services of the Hamptons. But, blaming my environment for my own inertia would be like the frog complaining about the color of the pot. I wanted to move to the Hamptons in 2006. I gladly signed new leases in 2007 and 2008. I may have been sleepwalking in 2009, 2010, and 2011, but there certainly wasn’t any force involved.
So when I woke up, I moved.
I have purchased a flat in Woodhawk, a gated condominium community in Mayfield Heights. The unit is spacious, quiet, and private. The move was May 8th. This post will be published when I receive my security deposit.
A return to homeownership? Why not? The water was cool and pleasant.