THIS is the root of the problem, NOT the "strong economy"..
http://www.fortune.com/fortune/investing/articles/0,15114,1061371,00.htmlREAL ESTATE FRENZY
Riding the Boom
They snap up real estate, flip it, then chase the next hot market.They’re the new day traders—and they’re dancing on the edge of a volcano.
By Grainger David
Zareh Tahmassebian is on the way to look at two of his houses in Phoenix. He is lost. Most people don’t get lost driving to their own residence, but then, Tahmassebian has never actually been to these particular homes. There are a few reasons for that: (1) He has no intention of ever moving into them, (2) he lives in Las Vegas, not Phoenix, and (3) he owns six other houses—and a half share of seven more—in the greater Phoenix area. "Sometimes it’s hard to keep track," he says.
Tahmassebian, just 22, is a big, affable guy who dresses the way a budding young speculator should: black trousers, a blue-and-white-striped shirt, cuff links, a Cartier watch, black suede loafers, and rimless purple sunglasses. The son of Armenian immigrants, he has spent the past four years in Las Vegas working as a mortgage banker, a job that he says paid him $250,000 in salary and commissions last year. He has taken the day off to fly to Arizona for a "frame inspection." The houses he’s inspecting are somewhere inside the Cholla Ranch development that’s being put up by KB Home, one of the nation’s largest builders. Right now he’s in the general area—cruising southeast down Highway 10 in a white Chrysler 300M rental car—but lacking specifics. "Is that Tempe?" he asks. "I think I have some houses there."
After several uninterrupted miles of cactus, desert, and tumbleweed, it becomes clear that he’s missed the turn, and he exits the freeway while dialing his broker. "Papa John!" Tahmassebian says into his cellphone. "Where are my houses?" To get more help, he dials KB Home on another phone, and soon he has a gleaming silver clamshell at each ear. For a moment the car drifts dangerously across the exit ramp, until I reach over to grab the steering wheel. "It’s okay," Tahmassebian whispers, nodding toward the place where his trousers meet the bottom of the wheel. "This knee can drive."
When we finally arrive at the first construction site, on Paradise Lane, Tahmassebian begins his inspection. "See this wood?" he says, gesturing to the slatted frame of the unfinished house. "This wood made money for me! I don’t own it—but I own the rights. I put a 10% deposit down, I haven’t even made a mortgage payment yet, and it’s already gone up $45,000. What a country!"