My in-laws own a little two-bedroom beach bungalow. It’s part of a condo development that hasn’t changed much in fifty years. The units are connected by brick paths that wind through palm trees and tiki shelters to a beach. Nearby, developers have built big hotels and condo towers, and it’s always seemed inevitable that the bungalows would be razed and replaced. But it’s never happened, probably because, according to the association’s bylaws, eighty per cent of the owners have to agree to a sale of the property. Eighty per cent of people hardly ever agree about anything.
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