Boomers are feeling guilty.

Their homes are worth a fortune, even if those homes are teeny-tiny and in disrepair. The kids have flown. The old-timers fear condos with cracker box walls and transient tenant neighbours.

Or perhaps they have observed the way that guy on King St. slides open his condo balcony door every morning to allow little froufrou to scamper out for a poop. (Just wait until the warming rays of spring.) Or perhaps it’s the condo fees that have scared them off. So they remain in place, in situ, the un-mined gold mine.

Here’s another thought.

Boomers take up too much space.

My own neighbourhood was a fantastic chaos of rooming houses and flats in its day. Old Ted, two doors down, rented rooms to a collection of bandy-legged gents with a fondness for the mini bottles of Alpenbitter the corner bakery used to sell. The house next door had a separate flat. I adored Anyzia, who ran her place with spic-and-span efficiency. Somehow we communicated, though a mastery of English never came to her just as a smattering of Polish never came to me.

At the time of purchase our own house came with a kindly and tolerant basement tenant — until we decided that we needed a renovated basement in addition to the three floors of space above it. Kids will do that to you. But still, it was piggish.

So down went the neighbourhood rental stock. In its place blossomed studs-to-rooftop renovations and overpriced landscaped gardens and elegant kitchens with oversized stoves. Have you seen the size of front-loading washer and dryer sets these days? Who designs this stuff? They’re the size of aircraft carriers. Have we gone mad?

Squeezed apartment hunters, urged by friendly bankers, did the math: with interest rates at historic lows, and with rental costs being pushed to historic highs, why not invest in real estate? But then home prices went up and up and up and amortizations were reined in and scraping together a down payment appeared increasingly out of reach.

I note that a two-floor flat steps from my own home currently rents for $2,500 a month. A semi-detached home two blocks away is available for lease at $4,500 a month.

The transformation has leached unpleasingly through to Roncesvalles Ave., the neighbourhood’s main artery. The old Polish delis are few in number now. I know I sound like an old crone when I bemoan the absence of the tailor and the shoe repairman. But really, how many restaurants does one neighbourhood need? Independent retailers have a tough go in an environment of escalating rents, so the chains move in, eroding the avenue’s charm even further.

And this in a city that defines itself on the strength of its neighbourhoods. Somehow the colour, the vibrancy, the eclecticism drains away.

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What’s to be done? The province’s finance minister promises that he’s on the case studying a “suite of options” to aid in cooling the housing market. The standard interventions have been suggested, aimed at tamping down acquisitions by speculators — or, more politely, non-resident buyers — in favour of real city dwellers who desperately want to lay down roots. A foreign buyers’ tax always gets top billing in these discussions, with the standard-issue footnotes that such a tax can’t be seen to be unfairly penalizing those buyers with every intention of obtaining worker permits.

All eyes, in other words, are fixed on the front end of the problem.

But what about the back end of the problem? Let’s look at this holistically for a moment. Aging boomers are going to be hell on the health care system, eventually. How to forestall against that? Keep them in their homes, longer. Keep them going up and down the stairs. Stay limber! Keep them engaged with the adorable little girl who lives next door and the defiantly independent coffee shop owner on the avenue and the gorgeous dog on the corner who loves a pat.

Maybe it’s time to come full circle, to refashion the too-big homes into more European-sized dwellings. Throw up a wall in the front hall. Install a modest kitchen on the second floor. Create a separate apartment for rent. That’s one route. But I’m not so sure I want to be a landlord.

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A cousin in Vancouver is looking into condo-izing his home. It sounds a bit daunting, from separating the utilities — gas and electricity — to meeting the requirements of the condominium act. And yet, this appeals. The long-term mental and physical health benefits from staying in the community seem obvious, and something the province should be promoting. Perhaps the finance minister could at least cast a glance our way to measure the ways in which baby boomers could be part of the solution. Perhaps incentives could be put in place to advance the idea.

Perhaps it’s time for some fresh thinking.

jenwells@thestar.ca