Time to prepare. The summer migration is on, big time. The threat of gas shortages has everyone running on a full tank of 87 octane, preparing to cram two summers into one as if there’s a BOGO deal. Everyone’s going to the beach with loaded coolers and hot heads. Pay attention because nerves are frayed.
You’re telling me traffic on I-95N is crazy, hotel prices are up, and if you don’t have a reservation, good luck finding a room. The help wanted signs are everywhere as anxious patrons (that’s being too kind) wait impatiently to be served. Is there any wonder workers are taking the summer off with the Biden/Harris free money on tap and the country reopening thanks to the Trump vaccine?
Who wants to spend the summer in Cuomo/de Blasio’s NYC? Those doing remote work have moved on. Will big cities ever be the same? If it’s up to the teachers unions, they won’t. They’d prefer to Zoom from home too. The escape from the city will continue.
In The Wall Street Journal, Alistair MacDonald explains the damage that has been done to big cities by COVID shutdowns. He writes:
Dan Barker had barely finished rejoicing that London’s “mad umbrella shop” had survived the pandemic when his wife broke some bad news: The “mad sailor shop” had not.
Next month, Arthur Beale Ltd., a nearly 500-year-old business that sells maritime supplies from central London, is set to close a store famed for its elaborate window displays and eccentric interior. After surviving great fires, bubonic plague and Nazi bombing raids, successive Covid-19 lockdowns and a huge repair bill have sunk a store that was already listing from changing shopper habits, its owners said.
Up-anchor
London is emerging from its third lockdown, and locals are casting nervous glances to see which of their favorite stores have survived the pandemic. The fate of Arthur Beale is highlighting fears that Covid-19 may have changed their city forever.
Beautiful places are booming. Real estate prices are untethered. The law of supply is king. And unless you’ve been living in Joe’s basement, you’ve noticed the shortage. One realtor interviewed in the Sunday Boston Globe believes it will take three to four years to work through the pent-up demand. Then what?
The bottleneck at sawmills isn’t getting any better as mill owners hesitate to expand because (a) it’s too expensive, (b) the labor shortage, and (c) because they got burned in the last real estate crash. Baby Boomers flush with cash are bidding five to six figures over ask because “they want their dream home and because they can.”
And the stock market? It goes up until it doesn’t. Every. Single. Time. And today, market enthusiasts follow stocks closer than their favorite team (remember them?).
Action Line: Make sure your woodshed is full. The good times don’t last forever. Time to prepare.
