CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | CONTACT
“Money, money, money” chants semi-retired white goods retailer, Tony Marlow.
“In a rich man’s world. Hahahaha”
He hugs his wife with so much enthusiasm that her feet leave the ground. She peppers his face with kisses. They’ve done it.
They have cashed in on the Australian dream.
After two decades of living as empty-nesters in a five bedroom home, the gamble has paid off. A removalist van down the street signals that another million bucks has been injected into their property portfolio. This area is now out-of-reach for those who live on the margins. Only rich people live here now.
Tony and his wife can now go to auction without having to worry about seeing any prams or tattoos. Best case scenario is they flip this once beloved family home to a consortium of Mainland Chinese investors. Worst case, it goes to some developer who needs a six month settlement while he clears plans with the council to knock the whole thing down.
Either way, they are now much RICHER.
Because the single mum who rented a 2-bedroom brick flat down the street has finally had enough with the cruel spikes in rent. She’s taking her daughter out of the local school and moving in with her sister on the other side of town until they eventually find another place to call home on the outer-metropolitan fringes.
The once economically diverse middle class suburb of Betoota Ridge has come a long way since 1980s.
When Tony and Annette Marlow (both 73) first moved here as newlyweds in the final days of Malcolm Fraser’s government, Betoota Ridge was a blue collar enclave made up of railway workers and service sector employees.
These original residents were known as a knockabout cohort of suburban characters who produced some of the greatest footballers to come out of this town. They welcomed kids of all creeds and colours into their homes, and they kept an eye out for those doing it tough.
But nowadays, the locals are mostly country-shopping young couples who work tech sales or crypto. The historic art deco public housing flats have been razed and the elderly residents have been fucked off to some place that doesn’t have dystopian pictures of bleached-teeth Real Estate agents on every corner.
And now, it seems that even the working single mums can’t afford to live here. This is the Boomer dream. The suburb that was once home to generations of community-minded young families is now a transient high-growth area full of yoga studios and dog groomers.
Tony and Annette can now finally to sell up and downsize to a luxury apartment in the inner-city, where they will spend the rest of their days complaining about the ungodly sounds of live music coming from the 180-year-old pub next door.
