Change of address, anyone?
This house is paid for, time to start dreaming of something bigger. Tonight, somewhere in the “Oil Patch”, someone has realized that their house just isn’t fancy enough to reflect all that money coming in. But, seriously, how do you decide that you need this property? From the report on CBC, the mortgage alone might be enough to “make you want to kill yourself”.
The market is hot out in Oil Country. According to the developer, the remaining penthouse property is listing at ten million dollars. No lawn, no “back forty” to keep a few steers running wild. This is urban heaven, or as close as you are likely to get. The 35th floor, so that you can practice stair climbing for that annual run up the CN tower (another city, but with airplanes crisscrossing between Calgary and Toronto, only a detail. There’s a priority elevator, because standing around in the lobby after you’ve gone down to fetch the daily newspaper must be annoying. Ditto for bringing in the groceries.
Let’s talk about finances, for a minute or two. I decided to check out those people with the neat “no bank branch” thing that advertise on TV, ING. It turns out that their mortgage calculator only goes up to two million (programmers, take note that things are changing up here in rich Canada), so we’ll fudge things a bit. For a five year variable, expect to pay $53691.85 each month, on or about the moment you wish you had even more money available. Your municipal tax bill is going to run somewheres around $40,000, so just think of the city as the 13th month in your year. As for “condo fees”, if you have to ask…
In return, your cleaning staff will have to learn how to deal with marble and ebony, instead of the gyproc and melamine that the neighbours (not close neighbour, but still on the same planet) have to deal with. As for the windows, you’d better be clear that outside on the 35th does get a touch windy, so safety harness and emergency parachutes are worth bringing along for your squeegee sessions.
Still, no lawn to mow, and parking is inside, away from those terrible Prairie winters. And up that high, there’ll never be people looking in the windows as they drive by. For the visitors, here’s a map.
