Sunk by a Sink?

Do you watch those shows on TV where a real estate agent takes prospective buyers around to three houses and then, once they’ve picked one, you get to see how hideously they’ve decorated it? Ken and I love those shows. They are our “default” programming, meaning that if there is nothing on that we want to watch, we’ll switch to House Hunters and yell at the TV, “You bought House number three! You’re idiots!” Or, “Are you kidding with that color on the walls?” We are not proud of ourselves.

There are a few versions of these programs. There is “House Hunters”, which is the original. Then there is “House Hunters International”, as well as “My First Place” and “Property Virgins”. And more recently, “Selling New York” and “Selling L.A.”, both of which fall into my “house porn” category because, with jaw-dropping, drool-inducing, properties on view, at obscene prices over $2 million, these two shows are strictly for voyeurs who can too easily find themselves lustfully using self-abusive mental messages like, “Why aren’t I a billionaire?”

The producers of House Hunters know exactly why the show has such appeal. An ad they has a couple driving around a neighborhood of craftsman houses at dusk. They glance into living rooms where the drapes are not yet drawn until they’re spotted by a homeowner and they speed away. The voice over says, “Go ahead! You know you want to look!” We all want to be Looky-Loos. It is curiously satisfying to see inside someone’s home. Or to imagine what you might do to make a place your own.  But I fear that these programs have begun to set the standards to which America thinks it should aspire.

A theory I’m working on is that shows of this ilk might actually be responsible for the housing crisis! Here’s what I’m thinking:

In one sense, they are aspirational – and this is the positive side. They play into dreams of finding the perfect home where love and contentment reign because there are double vanities in the bathroom to ensure domestic harmony. The concluding moments on House Hunters always feature the new homeowners declaring to the camera that they have made the perfect choice and they will live happily ever after until the day someone carries them out in a pine box.  

We cheer when we like the people. When you spend a half hour with someone, you get to know them.  Especially as you see them react to the houses they inspect. If the most intelligent thing they can say throughout their house tour is, “Oh, this room is a good size!” we are done with them. And then there is the lame attempt at humor we hear frequently when a woman encounters a walk-in closet and tells her husband, “Oh, honey, I’ll take all of this space! Ha, Ha! You can have the tiny closet in the guest room!”  This became a tired joke a long time ago.

But other people, the ones to whom we take an instant liking, have compelling stories, or they avoid those tired clichés or they demonstrate some awareness of their surroundings – or that they’re conscious, at least.  We feel good that they find their forever home.

But I digress. My point is that the positive and the negative sides of these programs are too closely alligned. I mean, first we need to acknowledge that there are so many people for whom home ownership is a dream way beyond grasp – both here in North America and around the world. So, that fact makes the following observation that much more jarring.

So many participants we see on these shows are viewing houses in the half-million-and-up price ranges. Many of them look as though they can’t afford a half-million and up. What the heck do they do for a living? Are they the ones who get no-down-payment mortgages that they can’t possibly afford?

And what propels them in their quest for the perfect domicile? A wish list that they surely must have developed out of watching these shows in the first place because EVERYONE wants the same things! Suddenly it seems there is high demand in the world that we MUST ALL HAVE — and you hear this almost every episode — hardwood floors, crown molding, two vanities in the master bath, stainless steel kitchen appliances, granite counter tops, walk-in closets, a “good space for entertaining” and the guys want a “man cave” because presumably they don’t intend to interact with the rest of the family on any kind of regular arrangement unless they come out of their lair to slay a mastodon and get a beer.

We watched one show with newbie home owners for whom black glass-front appliances were a deal-breaker. The appliances appeared to me to be o.k., but the wife said, “Those would have to go right away so I could get my stainless steel.”  HER stainless steel? It’s a birthright? She HAS to have it? They passed on this house, which had every other feature they desired except those steel appliances!

Another young couple we saw rejected a fine-looking house they loved with the historic character they were seeking because they couldn’t get their heads around a closet that had been converted to provide a main floor powder room which had a tiny sink. They actually made the sink their rallying cry for why they wouldn’t buy that house! They actually said, “Yuck!” Yuck? As if a tiny sink is somehow disgusting!?!

I yelled at them, “You Brats! Get over yourselves! WE have a tiny closet renovation with a tiny sink! Because the 1925 house we bought only had one upstairs bathroom! That’s what you get with an old house! Our guests think it’s adorable!”  Sheesh! What version of reality are they dealing with? As if that tiny bathroom should somehow have been bigger? How? If you’re converting a closet into a bathroom it’s because that’s your only option!

I can’t believe my parents’ “life lessons” echo in my head: “In our day,” they’d bellow, “we saved up to get what we wanted!”  I hate to admit it, but I think they were right! What happened to making do? Or working toward your goal a little bit at a time? Or accepting limitations?

So as I said, I think I see where the crisis occurred: everyone has developed five star tastes on two star incomes.

But, anyway, thanks for listening. I should go now and tidy up around here. My granite counter tops need wiping and my hardwood floors need to be swept. And that tiny sink… well, yuck!