🗞️ News & Moves 🏠

Trump’s $5M visa: windfall or wrecking ball for U.S. real estate? (Commercial Observer)

Trump’s pitching a $5M golden visa—citizenship for cash.

For trophy asset investors, it’s a green light.

For EB-5 loyalists?

A gut punch.

That program pumped billions into projects like Hudson Yards.

Swap it for this, and you might get flashier buyers, but fewer deals.

Family offices are circling; tax perks are tempting, and the rich love shortcuts.

But with zero rules on paper, the market is holding its breath.

Let’s see if this will turn into fresh flood of foreign capital into CRE.

Fed QT pause? Markets are holding their breath. (WSJ Market Watch)

QT’s been draining the Fed’s balance sheet—down from $9T to $6.8T—but now investors are wondering if the brakes are coming.

A slowdown would show a gentle approach, lowering long-term rates to calm Wall Street.

Some want a full stop, fearing a repeat of 2019’s liquidity crunch.

Others say, wait until May.

The Fed’s in a tight spot: ease too soon and inflation whispers return; wait too long, and markets seize up.

All eyes are on Powell—this call could shape the rest of 2025.

🚨 The Fed Pulse 🚨

The Fed stayed put, but the message was clear: cuts are coming.

Markets are betting on June—and this time, they might be right.

Inflation is still a little sticky, but not stubborn.

The Fed’s outlook for 2025 crept up, yet disinflation remains the trend.

Expectations for rate cuts may or may not be affected by the inflationary impact of tariff policies.

This week, I’m still in the camp that we’re in a disinflationary environment—and that the Fed will make cuts soon.

We’ll see over the next month how the economy responds to the tariffs.

I Didn’t Finish It…

I just got back from a mountaineering trip with my bestest buddies—real estate entrepreneurs who, like me, are obsessed with testing limits.

This time, we took on Pico de Orizaba, the highest volcano in North America (18,491 ft).

Last erupted in 1946, and it’s no joke.

Steep glacier, crampons, axes, ropes—the whole deal.

We’ve done this before.

In 2023, most of us summited Kilimanjaro together—another beast, but different.

No glacier.

More of an endurance grind.

Still, it tested us.

I prepped hard for that one: ran a Half Ironman in Nice, knocked out a few 14ers in Colorado.

It was top of mind for months before we left.

But Pico?

I got cocky.

“I’ve done it once. I can do it again.”

That was my mindset.

And that’s where I slipped.

I didn’t prepare the same way.

I assumed my past experience would carry me.

It didn’t.

Here's How It All Went Down:

• We flew into Mexico City and started our acclimatization.

• Day 2: Hiked Cerro San Miguel (~11,800 ft)

• Day 4: Summited La Malinche (~14,300 ft)

• Day 6: Arrived at Pico base camp (~14,300 ft)

• Day 7: Reached high camp (~15,700 ft) — summit push.

All week, I felt great.

Better than Kilimanjaro, honestly.

Strong lungs, no headaches, solid sleep.

But the night before the summit day?

Something shifted.

Couldn’t sleep.

Brain was fuzzy.

I kept forgetting simple things—where I put my gloves, why I opened my bag.

I felt like my thoughts were glitching like a Zoom call on in-flight WiFi—delayed and not quite connecting.

Altitude messes with your head, literally.

I knew that.

But this felt different, I wasn't well.

So I talked to our guide, Bill—guy’s summited Everest three times and Denali fifty.

He looked me over, listened, and gave it to me straight:

“Your symptoms aren’t severe… but anything involving the brain is a red flag. Cerebral edema can sneak up. It's really up to you.”

I walked off, poured another cup of tea, and sat alone in the cold at 2:30 a.m.—just moments before our final push to the summit.

First feeling?

Disappointment.

“Am I just afraid?”

“Am I being weak?”

“Am I letting the guys down?”

“What will people think if I don’t summit?”

But then another voice—deeper, quieter, more honest—spoke up.

“What if something happens and you can’t get down? What about your kids? Is this risk even measurable?”

And that was the shift.

Not fear.

Clarity.

If you can’t assess the risk, you don’t take the challenge.

I stood up, found Bill, and said:

“I’m not going.”

I cried.

No shame in saying that.

I was gutted.

Staring at the peak, just a 5-6 hour push away.

I’ve never backed down like that.

I’m the guy who charges harder when things go sideways.

But this time was different.

This time, the brave move wasn’t going forward.

It was saying no.

The Deal You Don’t Do

Sam Zell—one of the GOATs of commercial real estate—understood risk better than anyone.

He wasn’t fearless.

He was calculated.

He didn’t shy away from big, complex deals.

But he always knew his downside.

If he couldn’t quantify it, he passed.

That’s what this moment was for me—just standing there, staring at Pico.

The summit was there.

But the risk?

Unclear.

Unmeasurable.

And that made it a hard NO.

Of course, everyone else summited.

And I was angry that day.

Told myself I was done with mountaineering.

Wrote the whole thing off.

But that’s just ego flaring up.

Now, a few days out, I know I’ll climb again.

Pico’s not off the list.

I know I’ll return.

But next up is Mount Rainier in August.

This time I’m preparing with intention.

This time, I’ll earn the summit.

Out there on the mountain, I learned to listen to my gut.

And back here in business, I plan to do the same.

Because sometimes, the flex isn’t pushing harder.

It’s walking away when the risk isn’t worth the reward.

That's what I got for today.

Enjoy the rest of the Sunday!

Be Well,