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I confess I was never a fan of “Seinfeld.” I’m not sure I’ve ever watched even one episode from beginning to end.
But the show certainly permeated (or should I say “infected”) American culture so deeply that even a non-fan like me couldn’t help learning a few catchphrases, like “No soup for you!” (whatever that was supposed to mean). Or “double-dipping” chips (that one I understand). Or “master of my own domain.”
That last one is what’s on my mind today — not in its original “Seinfeld” sense, which apparently involves what the biblically inclined used to refer to as “Onanism.” (Look it up. It’s biblically incorrect, but prude-approved.)
No, I’m thinking about being masters of our own domain in terms of recent reports that Aspen’s real estate market is — horrors! — actually stumbling.
If only ever so slightly.
I confess, I am one of those who have tended to believe that Aspen generally is immune from the problems that beset the national — and even the world — economy.
After all, for better or for worse (take your pick, the polls are still wide open), Aspen has spent the past few decades firmly establishing itself as a haven for the super-rich. And the super-rich tend to remain … well, super-rich, no matter what happens to the economy.
We bemoan the fact the billionaires have pushed out the millionaires — but if a billionaire’s net worth drops by a $100 million, he’s still almost certainly a billionaire and he’s not worrying about the price of his Aspen home.
And yet — despite the fervid arguments of a few real estate salesmen who do some fancy tap dancing all over the numbers — it seems clear that prices here in Happy Valley have dipped.
I remember recently seeing an ad for an Aspen house announcing the price had been slashed by $1 million. A million-dollar price cut! Of course, that meant the house was now selling for $13 million — not exactly a fire sale.
But still, prices might be dropping.
So what? Well, hang on for a minute, we’ll get to that. But let’s step back a little and take a larger view.
The stumble, however minor, in the Aspen real estate market is a reflection of a major pratfall in the American economy.
Now some might argue that the current “rough patch” for our economy is the fault of the economic policies of the current administration. (Motto: “Piracy: Capitalism as the good Lord meant it to be — without all the fol-de-rol.”)
But, however you might feel about the folks with their hands on the wheel and their collective foot on the gas of our economy, it’s reasonable to say they have lost a large measure of control.
They are no longer the masters of their domain.
And that’s because the American economy has become deeply indebted to other nations — primarily China — who have loaned us billions and billions of dollars to pay for (among other things) a certain little war. You remember, that war in Iraq that we’re waging even as we cut taxes.
To hark back to that automotive metaphor I used a couple of paragraphs ago, the crew in Washington might have hands on the wheel and foot on the gas, but they don’t own the car.
They’re more like the chauffeur for the mysterious Oriental man who’s sitting in the back of the limo. Telling them where to go.
They’re no more in control than — to shift metaphors, not gears — a homeowner who watches in horror as his mortgage rate skyrockets, knowing there’s nothing he can do to get back in control of his life.
That homeowner — perhaps soon to be homeless — is definitely not the master of his domain.
And that brings us back to Aspen.
Are we masters of our domain?
I remember years ago when D.R.C. Brown and company sold the Aspen Skiing Corporation to 20th Century Fox. I was an ignorant young punk back then (not much has changed, except the “young” part), and I’d been writing nasty columns about the evil Ski Corp. for years — but even I was apprehensive about losing local control of the company in this company town.
Apprehension turned out to be the right feeling. The Ski Corp. turned into a corporate hockey puck and got slapped around for a few years. And those years of bizarre management at the very top did not help this town at all. That was when the “Hollywood-glitz” tag got hung on Aspen, much to our detriment.
But the point was, we — Aspen — were no longer masters of our domain.
And now, as the economy stumbles, we get to worry about that again.
It’s not that Aspen has ever been able to ignore the ups and downs of the economy. We’re cushioned, not exempt.
But, like a solid business, a solid community can weather a storm.
We made it through winters when there was no snow. We made it through years when real estate prices took a steep dive. There was more to Aspen than money — and there was more to the money than just short-term profits.
There was a bottom line, but that bottom line was this: People cared about their community.
But lately it’s been hard not to feel the increasing extent to which Aspen has become an investment opportunity, instead of a community. And investment opportunities, by their very nature, are at risk.
Investments are leveraged. Opportunities fail to pan out. High fliers fall to Earth. Financing disappears. Construction sites go dark. Stocks fall. Loans come due.
And masters of the universe are suddenly no longer even masters of their domain.
They’re just jerking off.
<i>Andy Stone is former editor of The Aspen Times. His e-mail address is andy@aspentimes.com</i>
But the show certainly permeated (or should I say “infected”) American culture so deeply that even a non-fan like me couldn’t help learning a few catchphrases, like “No soup for you!” (whatever that was supposed to mean). Or “double-dipping” chips (that one I understand). Or “master of my own domain.”
That last one is what’s on my mind today — not in its original “Seinfeld” sense, which apparently involves what the biblically inclined used to refer to as “Onanism.” (Look it up. It’s biblically incorrect, but prude-approved.)
No, I’m thinking about being masters of our own domain in terms of recent reports that Aspen’s real estate market is — horrors! — actually stumbling.
If only ever so slightly.
I confess, I am one of those who have tended to believe that Aspen generally is immune from the problems that beset the national — and even the world — economy.
After all, for better or for worse (take your pick, the polls are still wide open), Aspen has spent the past few decades firmly establishing itself as a haven for the super-rich. And the super-rich tend to remain … well, super-rich, no matter what happens to the economy.
We bemoan the fact the billionaires have pushed out the millionaires — but if a billionaire’s net worth drops by a $100 million, he’s still almost certainly a billionaire and he’s not worrying about the price of his Aspen home.
And yet — despite the fervid arguments of a few real estate salesmen who do some fancy tap dancing all over the numbers — it seems clear that prices here in Happy Valley have dipped.
I remember recently seeing an ad for an Aspen house announcing the price had been slashed by $1 million. A million-dollar price cut! Of course, that meant the house was now selling for $13 million — not exactly a fire sale.
But still, prices might be dropping.
So what? Well, hang on for a minute, we’ll get to that. But let’s step back a little and take a larger view.
The stumble, however minor, in the Aspen real estate market is a reflection of a major pratfall in the American economy.
Now some might argue that the current “rough patch” for our economy is the fault of the economic policies of the current administration. (Motto: “Piracy: Capitalism as the good Lord meant it to be — without all the fol-de-rol.”)
But, however you might feel about the folks with their hands on the wheel and their collective foot on the gas of our economy, it’s reasonable to say they have lost a large measure of control.
They are no longer the masters of their domain.
And that’s because the American economy has become deeply indebted to other nations — primarily China — who have loaned us billions and billions of dollars to pay for (among other things) a certain little war. You remember, that war in Iraq that we’re waging even as we cut taxes.
To hark back to that automotive metaphor I used a couple of paragraphs ago, the crew in Washington might have hands on the wheel and foot on the gas, but they don’t own the car.
They’re more like the chauffeur for the mysterious Oriental man who’s sitting in the back of the limo. Telling them where to go.
They’re no more in control than — to shift metaphors, not gears — a homeowner who watches in horror as his mortgage rate skyrockets, knowing there’s nothing he can do to get back in control of his life.
That homeowner — perhaps soon to be homeless — is definitely not the master of his domain.
And that brings us back to Aspen.
Are we masters of our domain?
I remember years ago when D.R.C. Brown and company sold the Aspen Skiing Corporation to 20th Century Fox. I was an ignorant young punk back then (not much has changed, except the “young” part), and I’d been writing nasty columns about the evil Ski Corp. for years — but even I was apprehensive about losing local control of the company in this company town.
Apprehension turned out to be the right feeling. The Ski Corp. turned into a corporate hockey puck and got slapped around for a few years. And those years of bizarre management at the very top did not help this town at all. That was when the “Hollywood-glitz” tag got hung on Aspen, much to our detriment.
But the point was, we — Aspen — were no longer masters of our domain.
And now, as the economy stumbles, we get to worry about that again.
It’s not that Aspen has ever been able to ignore the ups and downs of the economy. We’re cushioned, not exempt.
But, like a solid business, a solid community can weather a storm.
We made it through winters when there was no snow. We made it through years when real estate prices took a steep dive. There was more to Aspen than money — and there was more to the money than just short-term profits.
There was a bottom line, but that bottom line was this: People cared about their community.
But lately it’s been hard not to feel the increasing extent to which Aspen has become an investment opportunity, instead of a community. And investment opportunities, by their very nature, are at risk.
Investments are leveraged. Opportunities fail to pan out. High fliers fall to Earth. Financing disappears. Construction sites go dark. Stocks fall. Loans come due.
And masters of the universe are suddenly no longer even masters of their domain.
They’re just jerking off.
<i>Andy Stone is former editor of The Aspen Times. His e-mail address is andy@aspentimes.com</i>
