Okay, groovy freedomists, sorry about this.
Staying on Long Island for her was insanity. And these simple joys can be satisfied much more cheaply in Wake Forest than Long Island. My aunt has simple joys-having coffee with family and friends, doting on her grandchildren, and watching the Wheel of Fortune. Over the course of her adult life, she probably ventured into Manhattan a dozen times. But my aunt, like most retired Long Islanders, wasn’t taking advantage of this. Its cultural, entertainment, and business opportunities are off the charts. Look, I get why New York City is more appealing than any city in North Carolina. Effusive niceness is the default position of most native North Carolinians. And few if any native North Carolinians have the Long Island moxie. Her home is better than her Long Island home. North Carolina’s roads, parks, schools, and hospitals are just as good as New York’s. She’s still close to family (her brother, sister-in-law, niece, niece’s husband, daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren live in Wake Forest too). Her pension and Social Security checks are the same. And the truly amazing part about this geoarbitrage gambit is that she sacrificed nothing. Over a ten year period, she’ll have an extra $150K to spend on travel, her grandchildren, or whatever tickles her fancy. Location of Homeīy moving to Wake Forest, my aunt put an extra $15K in her pocket annually. Let’s now extrapolate the difference between these two property tax obligations over a ten year period. Property taxes on her Wake Forest home are less than $3K a year. My aunt was paying $18K a year in property taxes in New York. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but New York taxes are considerably higher than North Carolina’s. The most beneficial aspect of my aunt’s move, however, fell squarely upon her wallet. And because you don’t realize that, you’re nothing but an inconsiderate jackwad. How dare you! Their conversation is way more important than your desire for a bagel with a schmear. So you interrupt the riveting conversation with a “hello.” Now the clerks are pissed. Tick, tick, tick…finally at the thirty second mark you can’t take it anymore. Tick, tick, tick…another ten seconds go by. (You want to rejoice, but you know better.) You then approach the counter to place your order and the three clerks behind the counter ignore you so they can continue with their conservation. You walk into a bagel store and you’re the only customer. Quick aside: Here’s a classic example of Long Island moxie. And no more, shall we say, Long Island moxie. Packing all the furniture and stuff she crammed into her house over the course of 40-plus years and moving it 500 miles south required a lot of work.īut thankfully all that work was worth it. My retired aunt recently moved from Long Island, New York, to Wake Forest, North Carolina.
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