Irenic Road

Moving to the Suburbs

Next Tuesday I close on a townhouse in West Des Moines. After about a year of ruminating on where to live and if I wanted to buy a place at all, I found a place I’m satisfied with. At least I think so– I haven’t lived there yet! I’m going from a decidedly mediocre 1 bedroom apartment to a 3-bed, 2.5-bath, deck, patio, central vac, 2 car garage townhouse. I feel a bit guilty for moving to the suburbs. Aside from losing whatever hipster cred I have, my annoying and meddlesome conscience reminds me of all the people in the world who don’t have a place to live. The Haitian foreman for the Builders International team I worked with lived in a one-room cinder block house with his wife and child, and he was doing well by the standards of most people there. On the other hand, I think my choice of housing would be sustainable if it could be adopted on a massive scale by everyone currently in substandard housing. Also, I think the result I reached after weighing the options is a pretty common one, even for those who want to stay in an urban neighborhood, and though being common doesn’t make it right, I can shed some light on why many people choose to move to the suburbs.

I chose my apartment in the Grand/Ingersoll neighborhood primarily because I work downtown. It takes me less than ten minutes to drive to my parking lot, and five minutes to walk from there to my desk. Before this I was living with my parents out on the family farm, and the commute was relatively long for this area. It was such a relief to just roll out of the apartment lot onto Grand and never have to use the freeway. I do like the neighborhood, generally speaking, and walking to shops and the grocery store along Ingersoll. I even ride my bike to work sometimes, although that can be a whole different sort of stressful commute. (The bike lanes along Ingersoll are a nice idea, but down near MLK the pavement is so cracked and rough you’re better off on the sidewalk.) I especially like the old oak trees, which are far better than the cheap, short-lived trees found in most suburban neighborhoods.

It was my dream to buy my first house with my hypothetical future wife, but after a couple years of living here with no wife in sight I decided to let go of that. Last year I was living on the ground floor of the same building I live in now. Then the rains came. Summer 2010 was monsoon season in Iowa, and I discovered the exterior wall of my bedroom was more like a semipermeable membrane. Mold started growing on it, and after some animated conversations with the apartment manager, I moved to the seventh floor. At the time I was so angry I just wanted to move out and buy a house, but I didn’t know what I wanted and was still attached to the dream above. It’s best not to make decisions involving large sums of money in the heat of the moment, right?

The flooded bedroom was only the worst of a litany of woes. (I have a whole list, but I’ll spare you, dear reader. I’m keeping it so I remember what I have to be thankful for in my new abode.) I’m sure there are nicer places in the neighborhood, but I doubt there are many. Most nicer ones are probably rented condos that cost more to rent than they would to pay the monthly mortgage on. What’s my definition of nice? Well, probably newer, for one thing, or at least not musty! Look, I appreciate old houses. I grew up in one of the oldest farmhouses in Dallas County (not counting the additions made over the years). I’m also acutely aware of the drawbacks and maintenance costs, and I’m not terribly interested in home improvement. I looked at several old houses in the Beaverdale/Waterbury/South of Grand neighborhoods, and they were mostly fixer-uppers, in my opinion (or overpriced South of Grand– good grief). Also, when I see old windows of the sort I grew up with, I don’t think “charming,” so much as “poorly insulated.” Then there’s the property taxes in the City of Des Moines vs. West Des Moines. For equivalently priced properties, it was about $1,000 more a year, every year, for the privilege of living in Des Moines city limits. Even when I found something newish or extensively remodeled, this canceled out those benefits. I considered the condos at 3031 Grand which were built in 2004, but found I could get something of the same quality but substantially larger in West Des Moines for the same money. Apparently a lot of other people think that, too– I learned it would be hard to get a loan for a condo there with only 50% owner occupancy in the complex!

As for living downtown, Sherman Hill is pretty much the only realistic option for someone with my income. I’m not poor enough to qualify for rent-controlled housing, and not rich enough for anything else. I don’t want to be impoverished in my retirement to enjoy a certain lifestyle while young! $140,000 for a 1 bedroom condo? No thanks! Taxes are also very high. Even in Sherman Hill, condos (renovated or not) aren’t very affordable, considering the tiny kitchens, narrow stairs, lack of parking, and various other compromises. Even if I was very into the downtown social scene, I don’t know if I could justify the expense of living there.

Since I don’t want an old house, that disqualifies most of Des Moines. My snooty yuppie tendencies aside, the larger issue is that starting over from scratch is often easier than fixing something that’s worn out or broken. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and so it’s easier and cheaper to build infrastructure to modern standards than try to refurbish the old. Even if I did want an old house, a farmhouse outside the city might be worth the commute, given lower taxes and property values. A large part of those Des Moines property taxes are covering maintenance on old infrastructure, and let’s not forget the good ol’ boy public employee patronage networks and other long-entrenched special interests. Why put up with all that when there’s an alternative? One can certainly go too far in the opposite direction. Growing up, I vowed to never contribute to urban sprawl by living in places near home that I knew had recently been farm fields. It’s not like torturing kittens or anything, but it’s not very sustainable. My townhouse was built in 1984 and is east of I-35, so I consider it non-sprawl. The population keeps increasing, and people gotta live somewhere. There’s a balance to be found, or a rationalization to be made, depending on how radical your opinions on urban planning.

All in all, I’m satisfied with my decision. It’s not perfect, I suppose, but it’s a compromise that doesn’t feel too much like one. I’m excited to move!