By Jane Lotter

Now that Microsoft stock has tanked and the entire dot-com world is in serious financial trouble, every citizen in Seattle is asking the same question: "Where can I get one of those cool Razor scooters?"

Well, I'll tell you. I got a Razor scooter, and it was easy. I just pushed off the little five-year-old who was riding it and away I went.

But although I now have a Razor scooter, I remain, to the best of my knowledge, the only person left in Seattle who does not own a single share of Microsoft stock. Not one. I suppose that accounts for the anonymous call I received recently from a well-known businessman with a reedy voice and a bad haircut.

"You really should buy Microsoft," the voice on the phone said. "It's a bargain at these prices." "Who is this?" I demanded, as if I didn't already know.

"Umm, a friend. A really good friend who thinks you should buy Microsoft."

"Sorry," I said, "I'm sure you're just trying to drum up a little business, but I don't need the grief. Microsoft stock, indeed. Is it up, is it down? Am I rich, am I poor? I mean, really, is this what grownups do?"

"But if everybody buys Microsoft, the price will go way up. It's that simple."

"And if everybody sells Microsoft, the price goes down. It's that simple-minded."

"But I'm the richest man in America," he whined.

"It's my understanding your claim to that title is becoming a tad shaky," I countered. "He who goes up, must come down."

Muffled crying came through the phone, rising to a kind of wail. "I don't know what to do," the voice said, choking back sobs. "If I were an ocean liner, I'd be sending up distress flares."

"And if you were a tugboat, you'd be smashing into the Evergreen Point Bridge."

"Too true."

"Are things really that bad?" I queried.

"If they don't get better soon, Melind - I mean, my wife - says we might have to give up the big house."

"You'd move? Where would you go?"

"Ballard. Although if we watch our pennies there's a chance we could swing Phinney Ridge." "What about Green Lake? You know: Close to Honey Bear."

"Too expensive. I made millionaires out of thousands of Seattleites and then they went and bid the price of housing way up. Most of them had the sense to get out when Microsoft was at its all-time high. But not me. I held on."

"There are some nice homes in Lake City," I offered. "Maybe you could find a fixer. Are you handy with tools?"

He sighed. "You know, nobody's ever asked me that before. But I'll tell you this: I've learned a lot over the years just from looking at that PBS series 'This Old House.' And I'm certainly not afraid of hard work - as long as I get to watch."

"Well, ask your real estate agent to keep an eye open."

"I'll do that," he said. "Thanks for the tip."

There was a pause and then he spoke again. "You know, I really want one of those Razor scooters, too, but my accountant says I can't afford it."

"Boy, that is tough. But, hey, the holidays are coming up. Do you celebrate Christmas?"

"Yeah, sort of. Especially the part about Santa Claus."

"Exactly. Well, put a Razor scooter on your wish list. Along with the bit where you ask for Microsoft stock to miraculously return to its previously inflated prices."

"I will, I will! I'll ask Saint Nick."

"Good boy. And one more thing: Make sure you get a helmet to go along with that scooter."

He laughed. "But I won't fall down! Not me. Not once, not ever."

"That," I replied, "is what they all say."