Michael Mehl

Don’t get me wrong, we’re capitalists here. Myself, unabashedly so.  

Without a doubt, we are enjoying a vitalizing economic upswing unique to San Antonio’s history. We are also, without a doubt, at the peak of that upswing, with many upstanding citizens reaping substantial benefits, not the least those toiling at the trigger end of the real estate business, namely agents and brokers.

These are the best of times, or so some say. But peaks are defined as much by their rise as by their drop. And some folks just don’t learn.
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Let’s get this straight.

Train rides are not the pastoral, romantic, or exciting experiences put forth so frequently in the nostalgic, affected fictions of novels and films. Even less so if said train ride is an obligatory means of transportation, not having other viable choices to reach a particular destination (in light of the choices one does have, gullibly subscribing to the aforementioned notion of rail-travel quaintness in Southern Kalifornia, was not the most fortunate example of good judgement). 

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There’s a compelling argument to be made that the top competitive sports in Southern Kalifornia are surfing and surgical enhancement, in no particular order.

On closer scrutiny however, one would also have to include in this rarefied list the pervasive influence of what is most definitely The National Pastime of the Coastal Kalifornios; which Mr. Otis Redding so famously evoked when he wrote:

“I’m sittin’ on the dock of the bay

Watching the tide roll away.

Ooo, I’m just sittin’ on the dock of the bay

Wastin’ time”.

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