Since our original chapter highlighting some of the delightful absurdities of House Hunters, like the Tiny House version, our home buyers have been kicking it up a notch. In the interests once again of keeping our readers fully informed, here’s an update.
To begin, let’s talk about those people gravitating toward Tiny Houses. Do people really consider all of the ramifications of what they’re doing? I’m thinking . . . . .No. In a recent episode, a family was moving into a real beauty. The master bedroom was what they, in all seriousness, called a “loft”. It was in reality a “crawl space” – roughly three feet of head room. Not only that, but they’d made it “light and airy” with the addition of a large skylight. With this added feature, the trapped sleeper will take on a reddish glow on a nice, sunny morning.
A father and his two young sons purchased a tiny home, selling what looked to me like a very nice traditional home. This bold innovator had two lofts installed for each child, with a connecting “bridge”. So far, so good, except much of the bridge’s span didn’t appear to have any railings. I can just see the two scuffling their way to broken bones and concussions, adding new dimension to the phrase, “drop and roll”. The true innovation, however, was a ‘climbing wall’ to the lofts. Bet that will be great for dad the first time one of the boys is sick and he’s up and down the wall with thermometers and chicken soup. That climbing wall will be replaced with stairs in short order. An episode a while ago that captured my attention (much as does a traffic accident) featured a rough-hewn couple crafting a rough-hewn tiny home. It looked like scrap wood was the primary building material. Most of the living space was outdoors – really lawn chairs and an old hammock under a tattered canopy. I’m not quite sure how that’s going to work when outdoor temperatures dip below freezing, and there’s only about twelve square feet of floor space inside. This beauty was heated with a forward-looking wood stove, which served a double purpose for cooking. At some point, I fully expect to see these two in a “where are they now” – a winter night, their hair and eyebrows singed, complexions not unlike the roasted pig at a luau. Another wilderness couple had built a hydroponic garden onto the side of their tiny home. The husband was explaining how it all folded down for easy transportation. The turn-off for me was that the water recycled through a large aquarium, with the guy explaining how the fish poop fertilized the plants. I know that’s part of nature and all, but still, definitely skipping the salad.
Yet another episode featured a family of four – parents and two small children. They had just sold their home and were moving into a tiny house because, and I kid you not, the stay-at-home mom “didn’t want to spend all her time cleaning the house”. Really? She actually said this, aloud, in front of a tv camera. She will probably host the next spin-off series: “Tiny House Intervention” and “Unbelievable Tiny Pigsty”. Another customer for a tiny house hated “built-in cabinets”. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t tiny house the very definition of built-in’s? I’m pretty sure you’ll find that on Wikipedia: “Tiny House – built in storage cabinets in a ludicrously confined space.”
One bright family bought a tiny home so they could tour the country. Now, there’s a great idea. I say, if God had meant for us to travel in a Tiny Home, He’d never have given us the Winnebago. The two boys were home schooled, so education was taken care of, sort of. Again, can somebody explain to me the thought process here in planning? The home school was set up with school materials on open shelves on the “third floor”. This tiny home had an extended roof, a great feature in high winds on the prairie, so one had to go up two ladders to get to the school room. This family is a couple of twisted ankles away from appalling ignorance. Perhaps more future applicants for Surfer University? And get this – they chose open shelving in the “kitchen” so everyone could see all of the lovely dishes and glasses. Mother had somewhat quirky tastes and a desire to show them off. The family was starting out in the Pacific Northwest. I’m fairly certain that just south of San Jose, the tiny house will look like the victim of an earthquake. Broken dishes, cookware, and books will come spewing out when someone opens the front door.
Our international contestants are keeping up. There are bright young couples that want to experience Europe to the fullest. They’ve sold everything and given up all pretense to earned income for the freedom to explore. [A side note –a couple with a small child or two complaining about the intense pressure of their jobs need “a more relaxed lifestyle”. That’s what retirement is for, you . . . . . . It came out later that they’d held their “high pressure” jobs for all of eight years. Wow, you talk about stamina. The rest of us in the workforce for decades were eating bonbons and taking naps. I’m requesting the right to go on the show and slap these people. Now, back to our narrative.] We see our young Marco Polos, in their hunt for suitable habitation in a large metropolitan area, visiting pubs, shopping in colorful markets (where we assume the farmer selling vegetables in Croatia speaks English), and otherwise immersing themselves in the native flavors. The hunt for an apartment is stifled by the two large dogs, not unlike Sprinkles and Pugface from House Hunters One. They insist on bringing the dogs with them (because as one person explained, “they’re our children”), and we know those adorable puppies will be perfect for the antique parquet floors and green space the size of a placemat that come with a studio in a congested city center. A “must have” is a bath tub so they can wash the dogs. There are no more than a half dozen apartments in Copenhagen with tubs, the agent patiently explains for the bazillionth time, but these two impenetrable fortresses of ignorance want to “keep looking”. Ideally, they’d like a guest room for all the friends and relatives that will be visiting them. They’ll also need to entertain a great deal in their 240 square feet because, as we’ve discovered, they’ll be learning the language in next few weeks and the natives will be flocking to them like deer to a blueberry bush. In what has become one of the most memorable episodes yet and definitely touches the lower edges of the sanity scale, a couple was moving from a large American city to Southeast Asia for a true life experience, an “adventure” as he referred to it. He had recently survived a severe health crisis – a debilitating chronic condition, so of course a third world country where medical care is administered over an open fire pit is just the thing. They were looking for accommodations by the beach so he could surf and swim, and found something in their price range, about fifty bucks a month, seaweed not included. As this was filmed several years ago, my guess is that these two adventurers washed out to sea long since in a typhoon.
Finally, for those readers compelled to read the first installment because of arm-twisting or guilt, it for no apparent reason appears that the quirky, the disagreeable, and yes, the top-level squabblers that we encountered periodically in the initial shows have become the new norm now. All pretense of teamwork and the joy of the search is gone. I’m not totally sure whether this is something from the network marketing department – maybe they’ve managed to lure away the selection team from “Price is Right”, or it’s just a new phenomenon. I’m surprised that some of these couples can even agree on a state. If she wants move-in ready, he has to have a fixer-upper. And now, it seems that move-in ready isn’t really move-in ready. There are significant changes that need to be made, even as the contractor is driving in the last nail. He wants a traditional house like the one he grew up in, so she needs to have a beach house or a bungalow. If one wants lots of land to raise chickens, the other prefers a townhouse. When they’re three months out from the wedding and she needs a house ten minutes from her parents, alarm bells and red flags should be haunting the groom’s every waking thought and most of his dreams. Many “Dear Abby” letters are squarely in their future. These home buyers can’t agree on bathrooms, kitchens, garages, yards, views, furnishings, driveways or front doors. How did these people even get together?
So, here’s my new idea, and I’m sending it to Dick Wolf. “Law and Order Meets House Hunters”. Here are a couple of story lines. Her blood is splashed all over the white kitchen cabinets she absolutely had to have. His body is found in the three-bay garage he had to have for his tools. The best friend found buried in the back yard (you know, the blond that complained in the whiny voice about the sizes of the bedrooms?). “Death by the fire” – the wife’s charred remains smoldering in the large fireplace that headed her list of “must haves”. A body lying at the foot of the grand staircase that was “exactly their style”. Sprinkles in a police lineup. An Italian real estate agent hiding out in a remote Tuscan village because that last American pushed him over the edge. Or an episode titled, “Death in the Morning – They needed double sinks after all”.
I'm Thinking...No! 