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Guided by an Invisible Hand. No, Not That One
I live on Hilton Head Island. Which is pretty weird, if you know anything about me. Those who have read my posts over the years know that I avoid undiluted water. Yet here I am on an island surrounded by it. I get motion sick just looking at a boat. I don’t like sitting on the beach. I don’t like hot weather, but I enjoy snow. I don’t play golf. I like to have a bit of space around me. My last house had a mile-long driveway, straight up a mountain in Tennessee. I had nearly 60 acres, surrounded by National Forest. I would shoot skeet out of our hot tub on the edge of a cliff. Here, I live on a half-acre lot on a golf course. I sometimes find golf balls in my swimming pool, and people walk their dogs through my front lawn. I miss my space. What on earth am I doing here?
Well, I came here for a job. I saw a business opportunity, so I took a chance. And business is good, so everything worked out. I figured I’d get used to my new lifestyle. I grew up on a hog farm, and then lived on a mountain in Tennessee. I’d never lived in a city or a suburb, but I figured I’d get used to it. I’ve been here nearly five years, and I can’t get used to it. Someone drives down my street at night and I wonder, “Who the heck is that?”
Hilton Head is a really nice place. I can see why people like it. It’s very convenient. Within three miles of my house, I have a Super Walmart, a Publix grocery store, a nice liquor store, a pizza place, a Wendy’s, a Burger King, a nice bar/fish restaurant right on the water, an Ace Hardware, and a few banks. I can take my golf cart to any of them. And yes. Of course, I have a golf cart. I don’t have a pickup truck anymore, or a skid steer, but I do have a golf cart. The golf bag holder on the back has fishing poles in it, and the cup holder can hold four Yeti cups. Of properly diluted water.
What am I doing here?
I miss the mountains and the woods. I miss having a fire at night. I miss letting my dogs run wherever they want. I miss being able to freakin’ breathe with just a little bit of freakin’ space around me. I’m not an agoraphobic freak, but I do like having some space around me. Just a little bit of space. I don’t need much. Just 50 acres is enough. But a half an acre is not. For Pete’s sake…
Dr. Bastiat’s current backyard
I got a letter from our HOA saying that there was not enough mulch around my bushes in my front lawn. Somebody is inspecting my landscaping. On the mountain, I did landscaping only rarely, and I used bulldozers and dynamite. Now I take my SUV to Lowes to buy bags of mulch. And if I don’t, I get snippy letters from some guy with no shoulders, no socks, and expensive shoes. The first time I met him, my wife immediately turned, looked me straight in the eye, and said, “Don’t you dare…” I have no idea what she meant. But I shut the heck up. She can make her point very clearly, even when I don’t completely understand. But why does this little #$%& care about my mulch?
What am I doing here?
One night, when I’d had just about the correct amount of diluted water, I complained to my wife about all this. I wondered why I was here. Her answer was typically insightful (don’t tell her I said that): “There’s a lot of old people here who have made some money and they don’t want to die. You’re one of the best in the country with the number one cause of death – heart disease. But you like living in the middle of nowhere, where nobody lives. So all these people can’t get the benefit of your skills. Except that the money here is so much better. You made decent money in Tennessee, but you’ve nearly quadrupled your income here. So we get to retire younger and better, the people here get to live longer, and everybody’s happy. Everybody. Except for those who insist on complaining about things that are really going very well. Ahem.”
Man, she gets on my nerves sometimes. Especially when she has a point. Don’t tell her I said that.
This is the beauty of capitalism. It distributes resources better than any centralized control system ever could. Somebody like me actually wants to go to a place that he wouldn’t normally go, because there is a demand for my services here, and I’ll be rewarded handsomely for my time.
I’m not being assigned here against my will by some distant bureaucrat. No, I came here of my own free will. Guided by an invisible hand that seeks to send various resources to where they are needed most. And everything works out, for the most part, most of the time. And everybody’s happy. No conflict. No seething resentment at being told what to do by an uncaring government official. I’m doing this because I want to. I’m doing it for myself, and for my family.
We think we’re acting selfishly, taking what we want like thieves in the night, when in fact we’re doing what’s best for everybody else. We may not realize it at the time. But the invisible hand understands.
And here’s the amazing part: There is no invisible hand. This is just what happens when you permit people to do as they please. The more government gets involved in this process, the less well it works. If you just leave it alone, everything works out, for the most part, most of the time. Most people get what they want, and we all chip in to make it happen, of our own free will. No conflict, no bitterness, no jealousy. We all do what’s best for everyone else.
Even those of us who would rather be somewhere else.
Dr. Bastiat’s previous backyard
The day I retire, I’m driving back to Tennessee. But for now, I’ll stay in Hilton Head. Because I want to be here. For now.
It all works out. Capitalism is compassionate, and wise, and simple. Centralized control is heartless, and stupid, and complicated. So I love capitalism.
Even when it sends me to * gasp * Hilton Head Island.
I’m leaving. Just not right now.
Right now, I have work to do. And I’ll do it. Because I want to. Really.
Published in General
I used to listen to a podcast in which a medical doctor and her husband used humor to teach about the history of certain medical practices. The doctor made it clear she thought government should run medical care. But she gave no indication that she recognized that she as a medical provider would have a lot less flexibility as an employee of a government system than she currently had. In her current practice she had a lot of choice on her workload, and had chosen to take a lighter patient load so she could do other tasks that she considered to be important community service. Would being a government employee allow her that flexibility? To say nothing of how being a government provider would limit her personal compensation options.
You really should take up golf. Look at the money you’re already saving on equipment!
We have a family dollar and convenience store (for gas) about 1 1/2 miles from our house. The WalMart is much further out, but I can’t shop there anymore. Every time I go, I can only think about those “WalMart Bingo” cards and I break out in hysterical laughter. Then folks run when I shout, “Bingo!”
Foolish alt-right knuckle-dragger. The Constitution means whatever we SAY it means.
Not just anything. It depends on whether John Roberts declares involuntary servitude to be a tax.
I never heard of WalMart Bingo.
All of us would understand if your wife hid all that car keys so that you could not leave the property.
Me neither. I’d hate to think that there was any aspect of the WalMart Experience that I have been missing out on.
I can think of Walmartians that I’d just as soon take a pass on.
So you’re an agoraphobe too?
Doc’s plight is common. I moved to Charlotte, NC from Vermont 6 years ago and my income nearly doubled, houses are at least half the price of what they were in Vermont, and there’s approximately a trillion job opportunities here.
But I live in a big housing development with an HOA, and although everything is “nice”, it’s very plastic. I got dinged by the HOA a couple of years ago because my mailbox wasn’t straight enough. It was tilting a couple of degrees off ninety but it wasn’t even close to what I would call leaning. Someone is literally driving around handing out tickets, basically, which is what chump municipalities do to raise revenue.
I’d take Doc’s mountain home in a second, it’s what we’re thinking about doing for retirement, or maybe an earlier move to the mountains depending on what “hybrid” employment actually turns out to be, post-Covid. Meaning if I can work from home on a mountain somewhere 80% of the time, drive in to Charlotte a day or two a week, that might just work.
I’d also be happy to sweep up Doc’s half-acre for a very reasonable fee, and walk-on access to that golf course.
Only now did I remember that a friend in South Texas shot more than one deer from his hot tub. (One of them I got.)
A lot of that work-from-home “infrastructure” could stop working if China decides to stop selling us the equipment used to do it.
Here’s one:
Not quite bingo, but okay.
I don’t know about other places, but down “heyah” where I live, you can win in 5 minutes . . .