Nextdoor Changed Course—and I’m Going to Applaud Them for It

If I'm going to spend time providing feedback to Nextdoor, I should also acknowledge when I see the company do something positive.

And today, I noticed something:

Nextdoor appears to have turned LinkedIn comments back on.

Yes, I'm complimenting Nextdoor.

A Week Ago: No Comments

A Nextdoor LinkedIn post from about a week ago promoting #GoodNeighborDay had commenting disabled. Like, Repost, and Send were available, but Comment was grayed out.

I previously provided feedback about this. For a company built around neighborhood conversations, limiting conversation on its own corporate social media seemed like an odd choice.

But something changed.

Comments Are Back

A more recent post promoting the 2026 Fave Awards allows comments.

There's also another Nextdoor post between these two where commenting is available.

So, whatever the reason, comments appear to be back.

And you know what?

Good. I applaud the decision.

I don't know who made the change or why. I don't know whether Communications reconsidered the approach, whether this is temporary, or whether there's another explanation.

And I'm certainly not claiming my feedback had anything to do with it.

I can only document what I see:

Comments were disabled. Now multiple newer posts allow them.

That's movement in the right direction.

Backtracking Can Be Progress

Companies shouldn't be afraid to reconsider a decision.

If I’m driving somewhere and realize I've made a wrong turn, I don't continue another 40 miles just to prove I was committed to the route.

I turn around.

Changing course isn't necessarily weakness.

Sometimes it's good leadership.

A Social Network Should Be Social

Nextdoor is built around people communicating.

That doesn't mean its LinkedIn page should tolerate spam, abuse, or inappropriate behavior. Moderation has a purpose.

But there's an important difference between:

Moderating the conversation

and

preventing the conversation.

If Nextdoor has decided to allow that conversation again, I think that's a good move.

Credit Where Credit Is Due

I've provided plenty of feedback about Nextdoor's communication, leadership, research transparency, moderation, monetization and shareholder value.

And yes, I'm still waiting for the detailed Insights data I've requested.

But accountability works both ways.

If I'm willing to publicly point out where I think Nextdoor can improve, I should publicly acknowledge when I think Nextdoor gets something right.

This case study isn't about finding something wrong every day.

It's about observing, asking questions, providing feedback, and documenting what happens.

So today:

Nice move, Nextdoor. Keep going.

Now, about that Insights data...

Follow my continuing Nextdoor case study at NielFlamm.com/blog.

Day 91: Another Email Sent. The Question Hasn’t Changed.

Day 91.

I've officially sent another email to the Nextdoor team.

And after 91 days, I have managed to make the request even shorter.

Not because the issue has become less important.

Because I'm running out of ways to make the question clearer.

The Request Is Still Incredibly Simple

Nextdoor published an Insights report about home insurance that told readers they could reach out for “detailed data, additional audience segments, and strategic recommendations.”

Another Nextdoor Insights report about financial advising and investing made a similar offer.

So I did something apparently radical.

I asked for the detailed data.

Not the blog posts.

Not links to the summaries I've already read.

Not an explanation of where the information appears on Nextdoor's website.

The detailed data referenced in the posts.

And today, on Day 91, I sent another email.

This Time, I Made the Choices Pretty Easy

My email essentially asks one question:

Can Nextdoor provide the detailed data referenced in these reports? If not, why not?

That's it.

At this point, I'm not even asking for a yes.

A no is an answer.

“The data isn't available” is an answer.

“The data is restricted to advertisers” is an answer.

“You need to meet certain requirements” is an answer.

“Someone else handles these requests” is an answer.

Silence isn't much of an answer.

91 Days Is a Long Time to Ask One Question

What started as a research request has gradually become something much more interesting to me.

It's become a case study in corporate communication.

If your company publicly tells people to contact someone for more information, what happens when somebody actually does?

Apparently, in my case, you get enough material for 91 days of writing.

I don't think that was the intended content-marketing strategy.

But here we are.

I'm Still Offering an Easier Option

I've repeatedly said that I'm willing to talk.

Email me.

Call me.

Video conference.

Virtual coffee.

I'm not interested in turning this into some endless game of corporate email Ping-Pong.

I'd rather talk than type.

And I'm certainly not hiding.

I included the same contact information I provided before.

Day 91: Another Email Is in the Inbox

Maybe today is the day.

Maybe someone at Nextdoor reads the email and says:

“Wait...has nobody answered this yet?”

Maybe the detailed data arrives.

Maybe somebody explains why it can't be provided.

Either one moves the story forward.

Until then, Day 91 gets added to the case study.

Another email sent.

Same question.

Still waiting for the answer.

Follow the continuing Nextdoor case study at NielFlamm.com/blog.

$8,500 for a BRAND-NEW 2026 Toyota RAV4 Plug-In XSE? TikTok Has Outdone Itself

I thought the $6,800 Toyota Camry was impressive.

Then TikTok showed me a $5,000 Honda Accord Sport.

Apparently, the algorithm took that as a challenge.

Because now we've reached:

2026 Toyota RAV4 Plug-In Hybrid XSE
Asking: $8,500
Down payment: $600
Monthly payment: $250

And according to the TikTok description, this isn't some damaged, high-mileage auction vehicle.

It's supposedly:

“BRAND NEW.”

And:

“FULLY LOADED.”

Okay.

This may be my favorite one yet.

🚩 Let's Start With the Actual Price

The easiest way to test this offer is to forget about complicated used-car valuations.

It's a brand-new 2026 model.

Toyota itself tells us what it costs.

Toyota lists the 2026 RAV4 Plug-In Hybrid XSE at a starting MSRP of $47,200. Toyota's consumer site currently shows the overall plug-in lineup starting at $41,500. Toyota Pressroom

Kelley Blue Book puts the XSE's MSRP at $48,650. Kelley Blue Book

And TikTok?

$8,500.

We're not talking about saving $2,000.

Or $5,000.

Or even $10,000.

The advertised price is roughly $38,700 below Toyota's $47,200 starting MSRP.

That's about an 82% discount.

Apparently Toyota has invented a revolutionary new sales strategy:

Build a nearly $50,000 plug-in hybrid SUV and immediately sell it for less than the price of many ten-year-old used cars.

Sounds perfectly reasonable.

🚩 Even a Dealer Couldn't Make This Math Work

This is where I always ask the same question:

Why me?

Why would anyone sell this vehicle to a random person scrolling TikTok for $8,500?

If this is genuinely a brand-new, fully loaded 2026 RAV4 Plug-In Hybrid XSE, a legitimate dealer doesn't need to discount it by almost $40,000 to make it disappear.

They could presumably sell it to another dealer for dramatically more.

They could take it to auction.

They could put it on any major automotive marketplace.

They could park it on the lot with a giant inflatable gorilla dancing beside it.

Almost anything makes more financial sense than:

“TikTok special! $8,500!”

That's why comparing these offers with wholesale or auction values matters. If a supposedly clean vehicle is advertised for dramatically less than what the seller could reasonably obtain through normal wholesale channels, you have to ask why.

With a brand-new 2026 model, the claim becomes even harder to explain away.

🚩 Then Comes My Favorite Part: $600 Down

The previous two suspicious vehicle advertisements I found used a remarkably similar formula.

Cheap vehicle.

Small down payment.

Low monthly payment.

Move the interested buyer into private messages.

This time:

$600 down.

That's slightly different from the $500 figure in the other ads.

Apparently inflation has reached the scam economy too.

But here's what I want to know.

$250 a month for HOW LONG?

The advertisement doesn't say.

Let's perform some kindergarten-level financing.

$8,500 minus the $600 down payment leaves:

$7,900.

At $250 per month, ignoring interest, taxes, and fees completely, that would take about:

31.6 months.

So apparently I'm financing a brand-new $47,000+ RAV4 XSE for less than three years at $250 a month?

Toyota currently has a real financing offer on the 2026 RAV4 Plug-In Hybrid: 4.99% APR for 48 months, for qualified customers. Toyota states that this works out to $23.02 per month for every $1,000 financed. Toyota

Finance $47,200 using that calculation, and you're looking at roughly $1,087 per month before accounting for things like taxes, registration, dealer-installed equipment, or a down payment.

TikTok:

$250.

That's quite a financing department.

🚩 Where Are the Financing Disclosures?

Once again, the advertisement gives us the magic number:

Monthly: $250

But where's the APR?

Where's the term?

How many payments?

Who's the lender?

What credit score is required?

What's the total amount financed?

Are there taxes and fees?

Nothing.

We're simply supposed to see $250/month and become excited.

And then comes the next part.

🚩 Somebody Actually Asked the Right Question

I opened the comments.

One person wrote:

“Yes to good to be true”

I'm assuming they meant too good to be true.

Correct.

Another asked exactly what everyone should be asking:

“That cheap... whats the catch?”

Excellent question.

And the account's public response?

“Dm me”

There it is again!

Not:

Here's our dealership address.

Not:

Here's the VIN.

Not:

Here's the complete financing disclosure.

Not:

Here's the listing on our dealership website.

Not even:

Here's why a nearly $50,000 SUV costs $8,500.

Just:

DM me.

Meanwhile, another commenter writes:

“I'm interested.”

That's precisely what worries me about these posts.

🚩 The Public Ad Creates the Dream. The DM May Close the Deal.

I have not privately messaged this account, so I don't know what happens after someone enters the DMs.

And I'm not going to claim that I do.

But after looking at several of these TikTok vehicle advertisements, I'm seeing a pattern worth recognizing.

The public post advertises an extraordinary deal.

It sets a small down payment.

Interested people comment publicly.

Then they invite them into private messages.

That's where I'd want to know whether the conversation eventually becomes:

We have several interested buyers.

You need to reserve the vehicle.

Send the $600 deposit.

We'll hold it for you.

And perhaps the payment needs to go through Cash App, Zelle, PayPal, crypto, or some other method.

Again, I haven't seen that happen with this account.

But if someone claiming to sell this vehicle asks you to send that $600 before you've independently verified the business, VIN, title, physical vehicle, and seller, I would stop immediately.

🚩 “Golden Auto USA”

The TikTok account identifies itself as GOLDEN.AUTO.USA.

A professional-looking name or logo doesn't prove who operates an account.

Before sending a penny, I'd want to independently establish that the seller is a real licensed dealer, find its physical address through independent sources, call a publicly listed number, verify the TikTok account actually belongs to that business and confirm that this exact vehicle exists.

And I'd want the VIN.

If the answer to:

“What's the VIN?”

is:

“DM me.”

We're not making much progress.

Let's Put This One Into Perspective

Toyota:

2026 RAV4 Plug-In Hybrid XSE — starting MSRP $47,200. Toyota

Kelley Blue Book:

MSRP $48,650. Kelley Blue Book

TikTok:

$8,500.

Down payment:

$600.

Monthly payment:

$250.

Question from a potential customer:

“What's the catch?”

Seller:

“Dm me.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I think we've assembled enough red flags to open our own flag store.

And This Is Why These Posts Matter

It would be easy to laugh at something this ridiculous.

But look at the engagement in the screenshot:

1,238 likes.

219 comments.

510 saves.

377 shares.

People are seeing it.

Somebody is interested.

And somebody looking for reliable transportation who doesn't know what a RAV4 Plug-In Hybrid XSE actually costs might see:

$600 DOWN!

and think they've finally found something they can afford.

That's why I keep writing about these.

Scams don't have to fool everyone.

They only need to reach the right person at the wrong moment.

Before sending money for a vehicle advertised on social media, independently verify the seller, the vehicle, the VIN, and the price.

And if someone offers you a brand-new, nearly $50,000 Toyota for $8,500?

You probably shouldn't start by asking:

“Where do I send the $600?”

Start with:

“Why would you possibly sell it to me for that?”

Follow along at NielFlamm.com/blog for more questionable TikTok vehicle deals, scam emails, suspicious recruiters, and whatever the algorithm decides to throw at me next.

The Hinge Experiment: Gina Has Been Unmatched, and I’m Perfectly Fine With That

Another one bites the dust.

It's time for another update from The Hinge Experiment™, and today's roster move is official:

I unmatched Gina.

No dramatic confrontation.

No angry final message.

No lengthy explanation.

No sad music playing while I stared thoughtfully out a rain-covered window.

I hit Unmatch.

Because at some point, you have to ask yourself:

Why am I keeping this chat open?

There Was Nowhere Left to Go

Gina and I matched before “Missing Me,” so she'd actually been hanging around The Hinge Experiment for a while.

There were messages.

There were pauses.

There were more messages.

There were significantly more pauses.

I tried asking questions.

I asked about her day.

I asked about her meeting.

I asked whether she was available.

Finally, I went with the incredibly complicated, deeply philosophical question:

“What's your number?”

And...

Nothing.

Could she still have responded eventually?

Sure.

Tomorrow?

Maybe.

Next week?

Possibly.

November?

Who knows?

Perhaps in 2032 I'll receive a carrier pigeon carrying her phone number.

But I'm not waiting.

An Open Chat Isn't a Relationship

This is something I'm starting to realize during this whole experiment.

There's no prize for accumulating matches.

I'm not collecting Pokémon.

A match sitting in my inbox isn't evidence that my dating life is thriving.

If we're not talking, we're not getting to know each other.

If we're not getting to know each other, we probably won’t meet.

And if we're never going to meet, what's the point of leaving the conversation sitting there?

Unmatch.

Next.

Not out of anger.

Not because I think she owes me anything.

She doesn't.

It's simply recognizing when something isn't going anywhere.

Here's the Bigger Thing: I'm Not Desperate

I think this distinction matters.

I'm not desperate to find someone.

Would I like to find someone?

Absolutely.

It would be nice.

I want someone to go to dinner with.

Someone to see a movie with.

Someone to take a completely unnecessary road trip with.

Someone to laugh with.

Someone who can carry half a conversation without me feeling like I'm conducting a deposition.

Someone who occasionally asks me a question.

Crazy standards, apparently.

But there's a big difference between:

“I'd like someone in my life.”

and

“I need someone in my life.”

I don't need to force something simply because I don't want to be alone.

I don't need to keep dead conversations alive just because they're technically matches.

And I certainly don't need to convince someone to be interested in me.

If someone wants to talk to me?

Great.

If someone wants to meet me?

Even better.

If someone isn't interested?

That's okay too.

I'm Looking for Mutual Effort

Maybe that's what The Hinge Experiment has actually taught me so far.

I'm not looking for perfection.

I'm not looking for someone who immediately reorganizes her entire life because we matched Tuesday afternoon.

I'm looking for reciprocity.

I'll ask questions.

Ask me some.

I'll make an effort.

Make one too.

I'll suggest meeting.

If you're interested, help me make that happen.

Scheduling coffee shouldn't require a project manager, three status meetings, and a Gantt chart.

And if I'm doing all the work to keep a basic conversation alive?

That's probably not the conversation I'm looking for.

The Hinge Roster Is Getting Awfully Small

Let's check the historical standings.

Kelli: Unmatched.

Missing Me: Unmatched.

Gina: Unmatched.

New matches: Well...

About that.

The Hinge offices aren't exactly overwhelmed processing my incoming requests.

But that's okay.

I'd rather have zero matches than stare at three conversations that aren't going anywhere and pretend something is happening.

I'm still on Hinge.

I'm still open to meeting someone.

I'm still hopeful that eventually I'll match with someone where the conversation doesn't feel like I'm trying to start a lawn mower that's been sitting in a garage since 1987.

Pull.

Nothing.

Pull again.

Nothing.

Prime it.

Pull.

GOOD MORNING!

And then silence.

Would It Be Nice?

Yes.

That's really where I am.

Would it be nice to find someone?

Absolutely.

Someone funny.

Someone smart.

Someone interesting.

Someone who wants companionship but already has a life of her own.

Someone who actually wants to meet instead of becoming my longtime digital pen pal.

But I'm not racing against a clock.

I'm not trying to fill a vacancy.

I'm not going to turn every match into something it isn't because I desperately need The Hinge Experiment to have a happy ending.

If it happens, it happens.

Until then, I have a life to live.

And apparently...

an increasingly unemployed imaginary iguana named Steve. 🦎

Although given the current match statistics, Steve probably shouldn't make any long-term plans.

The Hinge Experiment continues.

The roster is currently accepting applications.

The Last House: Now I Understand Why It’s on Netflix

I was so tired Wednesday night that I couldn't sleep.

Apparently, the solution was The Last House.

A family near Seattle gets trapped inside during a storm because the rain contains some mysterious goo. At first, I was hooked. Rain, thunderstorms, and sci-fi weirdness—I actually thought it was a shame this wasn't playing on a giant theater screen with booming sound.

Then I reached the halfway point.

Oh. Now I understand why it's on Netflix.

Imagine The Martian, Waterworld, Pirates of the Caribbean, MacGyver, and Predator getting thrown into a blender. Once the movie starts explaining what's happening, things get... complicated.

Is The Last House worth streaming?

Maybe if it's raining and you're trapped inside too.

🎬 Watch my full movie review at NielFlamm.com/videos/moviereviews