Victoria, Saturday am. That’s me spouting at right.
At eight degrees in the sunshine on Saturday, Victoria strutted its stuff. This, many locals are convinced, is exactly why desperate cold half-expired Boomers in the burbs of Mississauga and Calgary will flow here in a steady stream, desperate to buy real estate at any cost.
At least that was the argument I got from folks about every five minutes before and after my talk. Given the fact it was snowing like the end of days in suburban Toronto, it made sense. Until you realize nobodyâ€™s moving anywhere anymore because they canâ€™t sell their houses. That, combined with a stressed BC economy, bloated riduculous home prices, a forestry industry death spiral and the bankruptcy of California means Victoria real estate values are likely headed for a 30% decline. Oh yeah, and the 2010 Olympics debtfest.
Still lots of people are interested in hearing the message. They filled 700 chairs on a weekend morning, and stood a few rows deep at the back. They lines up, mercifully, to buy copies of my new book afterwards, and then kept me busy for an hour answering questions and signing my name.
â€œMan,â€ said the CHEK television reporter afterwards when we did a clip for the new, â€œthat was rock star treatment.â€ I lowered my shades, signalling my body guards to remove him, but not kill him.
Actually, it had its moments. One vivacious young woman bought a book from the Chapters table set up outside the lecture hall, waited patiently in line, had me inscribe it to her husband, then leaned over, stuck out a blue felt-tip marker, bared her bosom and asked me to autograph it. As the crowd egged me on, I checked to ensure no cameras were present and then did what any financial author would do.
Did I mention these are strange times?