My husband is watching one of those “find-me-a-new-home” programs on television. I am down the hall in another room, but I can hear the conversation between the 30-something, prospective homebuyers and their real estate agent. Such shows are popular, but somebody’s got to point out what they really are.
“We have budgeted $1.5 million for our new house,” the wife says. “I hope you can find something for us in that price range.”
“We want something spacious,” says the husband.
“One of my requirements in a new house,” says the wife “is a perfect kitchen. This means granite countertops; Travertine floor tiles; a quartz backsplash; commercial-quality, stainless steel appliances; and kitchen windows giving me a view of both the water and the mountains.”
“We also want a large back yard,” interjects her husband, “fully landscaped, having a pool and a roofed patio, an outdoor kitchen, a large fountain, a guesthouse, a privacy fence, and room for a top-of-the-line playground set for the kids we may one day have.”
“Remember also,” says the wife, “we have specific requirements when it comes to location. The ideal house will be outside the city but in close proximity to shops, restaurants, gyms, and theaters.”
“Plus,” says the husband, “we want a minimum of four bedrooms and four full baths, a spacious entertainment area, a wet bar, a mudroom, a large laundry room, plenty of storage space, hardwood floors, custom-built cabinets and bookshelves, a man cave, a three-car garage, a home theater, and an en suite master bedroom with a fireplace, a hot tub, and access to a sun deck.”
“Absolutely,” says the wife.
Then to the realtor the husband says, “Do you think you can find the ideal home for us?”
“Certainly,” says the realtor. “You may have to raise your price ceiling a bit, though. Will that be a problem?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” says the husband, “if you can find the perfect place. Remember, we plan to spend three months of every year in this house.”
I don’t object to these people having lots of money. They have earned it and have the right to spend it as they wish. What sickens me is their attitude.
Somebody’s got to say it. Many of these shows are grandiose displays of self-centered people searching for spectacular houses in order to indulge themselves, impress everyone in their circle of friends, and make the rest of us envious of their splendid financial success.
Before I’ll watch one of these house-hunting shows, I’ll watch the show where the man stranded on an island eats rabbit brains. It’s less repulsive.