On Oct. 15, 2007, the Wilcox family arrived in San Diego from the Washington, D.C.-metro area. Within days, I began to understand the character of Communist California Culture and regret relocating. But we came to assist my aged father-in-law, so that he might maintain freedom to live in his apartment, which he did until passing away there at age 95 in January 2017.
My wife and I talked about returning to the East Coast almost immediately after her dad’s death. But our only child (an adult, by then) was attached to Southern California, and she wasn’t ready for us to leave her. We stayed—or shall I say overstayed—our time here. San Diego has changed all too much in terrible ways—almost all brought about by state and/or local mandates.
Among them: Increasing population density; overbuilding that blights charming neighborhoods; never-ending construction projects and noise; imploding lifestyle from congestion, inadequate parking, and traffic jams caused by the aforementioned; and exploding number of homeless, among other things.
Cost of living is out-of-control, and nationwide inflation is but minor reason. Costs to either rent or own a residence skyrocket, particularly over the past four years. Consider the most recent sale in my community of University Heights—an 849-square-foot apartment. The place listed for $599,000 but sold for $665,000, or 11 percent over asking price. The place previously sold for $278,000 in late 2009. That’s a 140-percent increase in value over 14 years. The median-selling price across the city is more than $1 million.
Our first apartment here—two-bedrooms, 850-square-feet—rented for $1,250 monthly in October 2007, and we regarded that as expensive. We left a three-bedroom house with backyard back East, for the same price. Today, according to Zumper, median monthly rent for a 2-bedroom is $3,200. Zillow reports $3,287. Rent.com’s figure, updated yesterday, is $3,655.
But, hey, weather is fantastic: Three seasons of summer. Seriously. We can leave windows open year-round. Fresh air and sunlight (natural Vitamin D for immunity) are healthy and invigorating. Even being modestly active is easy here. But living in San Diego is prohibitively costly, which is why I am surprised we haven’t fled California yet. Our daughter is reason enough, particularly following her brain injury and recovery.
Let’s talk Featured Image, which I took when leaving our first apartment for the last time: Nov. 8, 2017. The front door opened into the living room. The little window stayed open day and night, and there was an IKEA table where our cat Neko would rest and look out. As much as I love the massive windows of our second, smaller flat, I often miss the other.
My father-in-law found the place, located about a block from where he lived. We moved in following a complete renovation that created sense of being in a new home. The layout was spacious and charming. That part of University Heights is more serene than where we are now, too. Annie and I often walk about the “old neighborhood”, as we did on this sunny Sunday.
I wish the city wasn’t disintegrating around us, because—putting aside cultural and political differences—San Diego really was, as the motto asserts, “America’s finest city”. Given the rising cost of housing, contributing to an increasing number of homeless encampments, I suggest new motto “America’s finest tent city”—or soon to be, sadly.