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Pique n' your interest

At 400, or at 30, why worry?

I’m the 400 th person on the waitlist for employee housing in Whistler.

Those who have been on the list for several years and are still sitting there, waiting, know just how depressing that is. Those who are still procrastinating before getting on the list, just as I did for three years, also know how depressing that is.

The future isn’t looking good.

Here’s how I see it.

Every year 25 units in the Whistler Housing Authority turn over and are offered to the people on the waitlist. That means after four years I’ll have moved up to 300 on the list. It’ll be 2008 and I’ll be 34 years old. By 2010 when the world comes to Whistler for the Olympics, I’ll be at 250 on the list and 36 years old – that thought just sent shivers down my spine.

I could rework these numbers all day into a number of different scenarios and the thing that I keep coming up with is that I’ll be a lot older by the time I’m at the top of the waitlist.

It’s true that some of the 400 waitlisters will get fed up of waiting and move on to other places, disgruntled by Whistler, in which case I’ll be able to move up a few more spots.

But at the current pace, that waitlist is dragging on at a snail’s pace.

I know of at least 10 people, who are making their long-term plans to live in Whistler, and have yet to even get on the list.

So there are far more than 400 people looking for employee housing.

But a big project could change all of that.

Should the municipality decide to build, or work out a deal with a developer to build, a big employee housing project that list could shrink overnight, then I, along with all those other Whistler employees, would be kicking back in my own home. It would be a small home and it would still cost more money than I could ever imagine. But it would be my home. It would be a start.

But here’s the kicker.

Why would the municipality build a large employee housing project before the Olympics when they know the athletes village will be turned into lots of employee housing in 2011?

They wouldn’t.

And that’s not good news for me.

That means that employee housing isn’t really on option for me unless I’m willing to wait for another seven years to get it. I’m not.

With this thinking in mind I was led to the first time homebuyer’s seminar on Tuesday night at Myrtle Philip school.

There we heard from two real estate agents, two mortgage brokers, a lawyer and the general manger of the WHA.

We were encouraged to get into the market today, as soon as possible, jump in with both feet, build our equity, stop paying rent.

These guys told us how to do it.

The room was full of dozens of people just like me, fairly young, still hopeful and trying to figure out how to make this work.

But you have to wonder, is there some sort of secret fund that we don’t know about? Better yet, is this money growing on trees, ’cause I can assure you it’s not in my back pocket. It’s not even in my bank account.

Putting down 10 per cent on a $350,000 condo is $35,000. OK, so five per cent on the same house is about $17,500.

Numbers were never my strong suit in school but even I can tell that those two numbers have at least one thing in common – they’re both a helluva lot of money. And the monthly mortgage payments on over $300,000 aren’t pretty, when you’re in my tax bracket.

As an aside, I just want to point out that just as real estate agents detest the term "monster home" used by the media and everyone else to describe multi-million mansions, the rest of us poor people hate the term "starter home" to describe an 800 square foot condo and listed at almost half a million dollars. Who is that giving a start to anyway?

So I figure I’ve only got a handful of options left before I have to seriously look at my future in Whistler.

The most promising option to date is a small vacation to Las Vegas in a couple of weeks so that I can better cope with turning 30.

What is it about that birthday that stresses people out?

It’s because they take stock of their life.

By 30 they were hoping to have found the perfect partner, have the perfect job, found inner peace, found financial security, found the perfect way to balance work and life. You know, basically, by 30 they were hoping to have their shit together.

Hopefully three days of gambling, lounging by the pool, and sipping cocktails will put me in a better headspace to deal with the impending birthday.

Maybe my luck at the blackjack table can give me the financial boost – the almighty down payment – I need to get into the marketplace.

I could even come back from Vegas and buy myself a monster home.

Oh, the things I’ll be able to do when I win big in Vegas.

Then again, and perhaps a more likely scenario, maybe I’ll come back from Vegas significantly poorer but rich in the realization that there’s more to life than worrying about buying a house in Whistler. And maybe once I realize that the thought of turning 30 won’t set my heart a fluttering or set off the small waves of hysteria, which I seem to be prone to these days.

So I may very well be the 400 th person on the waitlist. But believe it or not, I’m not even the last. There’s someone behind me at 401. Poor sucker.

When you’re sitting where we are, you just can’t worry about it so you may as well go to Vegas.