Is it just me, or is each individual, couple, or family coming through “House Hunters” getting much closer to finding that sweet spot where the real estate agent reveals his or her true feelings, mutters an uncharacteristic barrage of foul language, slams doors, and storms out? We would never actually see this on camera, but if viewers can put up with Marriage Bootcamp, this is the next logical step for viewers of home buying. Recent episodes seem to go something like this:
We meet the bubbly young couple – let’s call them Clyde and Clara Clueless – somewhere in their late teens to early twenties but they’re still buying a house. They met a half hour ago, and are getting married in three months. So, of course they must have a house before that. Can anyone even imagine a young couple getting married and not moving into a house right away? That’s positively third world. Their price range is just shy of the cost of a parking space in most of America, but they’ve managed to save about thirty bucks toward the down payment, so off they go. Their list of demands includes: granite countertops (that is a must even if you’re buying a mud hut), stainless appliances, finished basement, and three car garage. The third bay is for a motorcycle he’s restoring. The couple pulls up in luxury SUV which I strongly suspect the network has rented for the show because their own car is a ‘94 hatchback. They invariably need to have a large yard for their two dogs, Sprinkles and Pugface. How they came up with two dogs that fast, I don’t know – maybe the shelter was having a two-for-one adoption package. I have nothing against pet ownership, in fact I love dogs. Having the dogs is important, though, because throughout the search, they’ll allude to “Sprinkles will really like this” and “Pugface needs room to run and those trees will get in his way”. We realize throughout this house hunt that every back yard will be “very disappointing” – in fact they could back up to a golf course and still not have enough grass for the pooches. Apparently, it’s very important to have the full approval of your pets to complete any real estate transaction. Earlier in the show, we met these adorable, precocious animals, one of whom is the size of a race horse, and both really should be on a farm in the Midwest rather than a suburban starter home, but I digress. (Pugface, just so you’ll know, is the one that looks like he could put down a twenty-pound bag of kibbles a day.) On a side note, I saw a recent episode where lady was looking to purchase a home in Florida. To quote Dave Barry, “I swear I’m not making this up.” She needed a space above the kitchen cabinets so her cats would have a place of height to “play”. She also rejected one very nice house because the screened porch, or “Florida Room” as we natives call it, had solid panels on the bottom and “the cats wouldn’t be able see out.” At the end of the episode, we see one fluffy ball of extravagance walking across the stove. One hopes she remembered to turn off the burners. But once again, I digress.
Because Clyde and Clara, young and unworldly (but none-the-less whiny) need advice and counsel, they bring along a) a parent, b) a sibling, or c) a really irritating “best friend”. The friend doesn’t actually own a house, but is well-versed and knowledgeable, and more often than not has a voice like a dentist’s drill. As they wander from house to house, nothing is really “to their taste”. They do forget that at the beginning of the segment, we saw that each was living in their parents’ basement with furniture that looked like it washed ashore . Even when they find something that might work, the best friend has nothing positive to add because she’s on TV and is trying just a little too hard to appear supportive, which she’s not. You can tell the agent is on the last nerve because by house # 3, her smile is increasingly forced out through gritted teeth. (Another side note – when the real estate agent finally snaps, the best friend will be the first one tossed off the deck.)
Now we meet the Bickermans. This fun couple can’t agree on anything. He wants something modern, sleek, maybe a loft. She wants a Southern Plantation, complete with wrap-around porch, parasols, and foxhounds. This must the agent’s worst nightmare. Gamely, he or she shows them one of each. The first is a loft condo – all bricky, exposed heating pipes, chrome and stainless steel, showroom contemporary furniture. I feel my back going into spasms as the camera pans the living “space”, but everything looks great. He loves it (“it’s just what I’m looking for”) while she’s all disappointed and pouty, and taking it out on the agent who has “let her down”. House number two is a homey mixture of Southfork and the Breakers. (At least there’s room for the dogs, which they too acquired in bulk.) This plantation, which she loves and for which she’s mentally preparing an offer, is usually significantly over their budget, another source of heated discussion because he, the money manager, is in full panic mode. This marriage has “forever” written all over it. So we move on to the “compromise” choice, which in a delightfully ironic twist, is often the one they end up buying. It’s a Colonial on a corner lot that pleases neither of them. They come to this fated decision while clinking wine glasses – in all probability well into their third bottle of Chardonnay. When we see them a month later, there are two brave faces explaining why this “was the perfect choice for us.”
From time to time, we meet Mr. and Mrs. Specific. This pleasantly laser-focused couple, with just a dusting of obsessive/compulsive, has the flexibility of an iron rod. The kitchen cabinets have to be white. The hardwood floors are never dark enough or light enough. The trees in the back yard are wrong – they’re evergreen and “we really wanted birches”. The marble countertops are wrong, they wanted a breakfast counter, not an island, the stairway is in the wrong place, the shower isn’t big enough, the windows don’t let in enough light, the color of the roof shingles are wrong, the street doesn’t work – they really wanted a cul-de-sac, the fireplace looks “dated”. (Side note: “dated” is the new watchword in home buying. It means anything installed more than two weeks ago or is in the “clearance” section of Home Depot.} Such a couple was on the other night. They just got married and were relocating from the Midwest to Florida. Their budget was $800,000. And they needed a dock for the boat they were planning to purchase once the house was in place. Really? Are we seeing the start of the next mortgage crisis?
Do you ever wonder about the single adults shopping for the four-bedroom places? Saw one just the other day. He needed something on the water, which seems to be non-negotiable for singles who have thousands of family and friends who will be constantly dropping by for a barbecue. Just wait a few years, everyone. With climate change, everything will be on the water – even the mountain retreats. He had one friend that helped him shop. Lots of room for entertaining was required. Of course. At the end of the show, there he was – with the one friend and the friend’s family. Did he really need a deck the size of Delaware?
Watched and interesting episode the other night. A family of three – parents and a young child were looking to put down roots in an Italian costal city. Father has a job with the US government, so overseas postings are the norm. They did want, however, to establish a base somewhere that the small child could identify with his heritage. After a running battle to decide “feel of Italy” versus “clean, modern, okay, I’ll say it, American”, father prevailed and they bought the American plan. One bedroom. About as much Italian culture as a Macy’s showroom. I guess the child will be sleeping on the couch until he goes to college. I really wanted to be a walk-on for the entertaining scene so I could slap them both.
My favorites are the families looking for a “vacation” home in some tropical resort island. They have a budget that would service the Pentagon, and both adults work from home, so they apparently can get away frequently. I really want one of those jobs that pays fistfuls of cash while I tap on a laptop two hours a day dangling my feet in an Olympic sized pool. So far, I haven’t found a one that doesn’t get you arrested. These jobs allow the parents to have afternoons “for family time”. The kids will most likely major in surfing in college because they’re not in school much. Here, we have the huge, life-altering decision to make – do we go with “right on the beach” or “up in the hills with a view”. Almost everyone I know has struggled with the eternal “beach versus view” dilemma at some point in their home-purchasing lives.
Of late, there’s an uptick in the numbers of folks giving up gainful employment altogether so that they can move someplace where they don’t know anybody, and often don’t speak the language other than to order coffee or a glass of wine. Who does this?
In one of the first episodes, a young couple is moving to Germany. Neither gives evidence of fluency in Germany other than “danke”. She writes about travel, which presumably someone reads, and while the husband, a photographer, takes the pictures. They of course have a large dog, which makes moving into small, urban apartment ideal. It goes without saying that an “outdoor space” is required so that Goliath can run. There is lots of chat about why this or that apartment won’t work. It doesn’t have her ideal bathtub with jets, which of course she needs to unwind from her high-stress writing job. They also need full washer and dryer and a huge side-by-side refrigerator. I’m not sure the function of the fridge, because they’re always in the neighborhood bakery trying out this or that, or they’re munching snacks in a pub. The only cooking we see happens at the end, when they’ve selected a place and preparing to “entertain” – themselves and most likely a couple of strangers that live nearby. My hunch is that the show’s producers gave them fifty Euros to show up and look like they’re fast friends and having fun. That, by the way, is a career I’d seriously contemplate – a walk-on “extra” for European HHI. You have to spread out appearances, though, so that viewers don’t catch on. “Hey, didn’t we just see that chubby guy with glasses in Denmark last week?”
Finally, we have the elder world travelers. They either went to some remote place on their honeymoon thirty years before and “fell in love with it”, or they are taking their families to reconnect with their roots, or are moving to Central America to relax and enjoy the lack of civilization. Invariably, all three scenarios involve “soaking up the local culture”. The old folks want to “blend in” (as if two old, English-speaking white people will not stand out in Honduras, right?). So they’re looking for a typical thatch and bamboo Honduran house, with all the amenities they had back in Boca Raton – stainless steel appliances, spa-like bathroom, master suite to accommodate the bed they bought at a chateau in France. They will, of course, need multiple guest rooms because all of their children and grandchildren will be hacking through the jungle several times a year to visit. They also need a large kitchen and a deck to entertain. One hesitates to point out the obvious, neither speaks Spanish nor do they know anyone there, so is entertaining the locals really a top priority? The final scene, as the credits roll, usually ends with a joyous celebration on the deck – the old couple, the real estate agent, and a family of villagers rented for the filming.
Bring on the couple that’s been saving for years for a down payment, the couple that can look beyond the stained carpeting, the scuffed hardwood, and the bright purple walls. These are the folks that can live with kitchen cabinets from the 80’s, that never utter the phrase, “complete gut”, that are bringing hand-me-down furniture from parents and grandparents, that have a cat largely indifferent to the tiny, postage stamp back yard, whose two small children don’t have three warehouses worth of toys. These are the house hunters from the heartland with whom we can connect, that we can understand and with whom we feel an attachment. These are the people that made America a world power.
I'm Thinking...No! 