Rare Saturday post.

I have had enough of this so now I have to rant about it. Since when is home ownership the American dream? I keep on seeing commercials about how owning a home is great and this is the best time to buy, interest rates are low, sellers needs are high, fixed APR, Etc, I just don't get the appeal. I personally thought that the American dream was something about the streets being paved with pots full of golden chickens but I drank a lot in high school and wasn't ever that sober for history class. Now, I admit that on the nomadic scale, I am on the high side. I am not really known for my ability to put down roots and stay in one place for a whole year much less two. I hate the idea of being tied down to one area of the world. There just seems to be so many thing in this world that I haven't inspected thoroughly enough to solidify their existence. Signing a one year rental agreement, to me, is the equivalent to shackling me to a dull obese person that doesn't want to do anything interesting, ever, and has extraordinarily bad body odor ( somewhat like marriage). With that said, you can imagine how I flip when I talk to people who have signed on to a twenty, forty, or, the most insane one, a sixty year mortgage. I can't imagine that at all. WHO THE HELL WANTS TO STAY IN ONE PLACE FOR SIXTY YEARS????? That is my question. My god, all I can think of is, in sixty years I will most likely have been long since dead. Sixty minutes seems like a bit of a stretch. If that is the American dream you can count me out. I will stick to my own dreams thank you very much. The dream of every nomadic man. A two hundred foot long, flying Winnebago, intercontinental travel time of 2.5 hours. A full lounge, eatery and, of course, a swimming pool, big enough to fit myself and twenty-six of the worlds most beautiful young women who have low self worth and no tolerance for alcohol but a ravenous appetite for chocolate syrup (low fat chocolate syrup, because there would be a "No Fat Chicks" bumper sticker on my transcontinental love ship). You can call me a rebel from your modified track home and scoff at me through your wind chime garden but I don't care, I got me a flyin' Winnebago and a pool fulla bitches.