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Writer's picturebetsineid

Home Sweet Home


Good Morning.

I've talked about it before, but the decorating shows drive me absolutely nuts. They just plain offend my sensibilities, such as they are. There were a couple of shows several years ago where the home owners had $500 to redo a room with results that delighted them simply because the room was now a nice shade of blue instead of a depressing taupe, the crummy old dining table was painted white, the chair seats were reupholstered, and the heavy drapes were discarded in favor of bright floral valances. Accessories found at a garage sale dressed up the room, including a chandelier that was rewired at a cost of $50.

Today the shows cater to entirely too many homeowners' need for a look-at-me, thing-based lifestyle. Here we find a thirty-two year old couple who wants a million dollar home for $200,000 or less. The wife's first complaint upon seeing what their money will get is that the walk-in closet doesn't have enough room for her shoes, and the husband will have to use the guest room closet because she needs the entire space for herself. She actually says this on national television without batting an eye while he smiles gamely into the camera and says something about Happy Wife, Happy Life. Then she doesn't like the pattern of the granite countertops in the kitchen and the cabinets are too light or too dark or too something. The kitchen is a complete gut job, she declares, even though it was renovated by the seller two months ago. The husband wants a three-car garage so he has room for his toys, and he also requires a man cave with a 75 inch television, surround sound, and a wet bar. To get everything you want, you'll have to increase your budget, the realtor tells them, whereupon the cameras zoom in again on the happy couple.


Open concept is big now. This means there are walls and doors only for the bedrooms and bathrooms, all of which have to be ginormous. Upon entering a classic Colonial, the wife says they need to tear down all the walls on the first level, except for the formal dining room that she's planning to convert into a playroom for the kids even though her husband was hoping to turn it into his office. No Sunday dinner with the in-laws for these two. The wife must also have a jetted tub and and a vanity with double sinks to hold the products that will enhance her loveliness. The husband wants a walk-in shower but certainly agrees about the vanity. The children also need two sinks so they don't kill each other, and of course, the parents have no idea why their cherubs cannot get along.

Next we go outside. The yard is too small and too close to the neighbors. The kids won't be able to play football, even though they're two and four years old, and the dogs won't be happy even though they each weigh less than twenty pounds. The patio can't seat the forty people the wife is expecting for a party so she can show off the house, and the curb appeal isn't quite up to snuff plus the entrance to the home doesn't make enough of a statement. It doesn't have the wow factor, a phrase that was non-existent even ten years ago. What the hell does that mean? That people faint before they even ring the doorbell?

Here's the deal. A countertop is for cutting up vegetables and putting together sandwiches for a school lunch, and some people find they can actually perform these tasks on formica. They're okay with a tub and shower combination because it manages to get them washed and shampooed, and heavens, they may even use the same blow dryer and toothpaste because they actually like each other. Their kids are happy to have any kind of bathroom away from their parents and probably share a bedroom. They're required to mow the lawn so a reasonably-sized back yard is just fine with them, and they also have to walk the dogs who are grateful to have human companionship. The kids also have friends their age next door, and their idea of a patio is a large enough space for a table and four chairs where they can have a cheeseburger grilled by the husband and potato salad prepared by the wife in her dreadful kitchen. These people are called a family, an odd concept that has been under a fair amount of discussion in recent days.




Best regards,

Elisabeth


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