Real Estate Follies

Brady Bunch HouseI spent Saturday morning looking at houses, because I don’t have enough frustration in my life. Same old story: the houses available were drunk and derelict and listing badly to port—buying one of those would be as foolish as marrying a man in the hope that you could change him. The best of the bunch had the sort of ugly-puppy-in-a-shelter appeal that’s hard to resist. I could work with this, I thought. But that one, as it turned out, already had an offer on it.

The only house that was both truly available and livable was the sort of soulless 70’s rambler that was so generic as to make the Brady Bunch house (the seminal icon of 70’s architecture as far as I’m concerned) seem as ornamented as an Italianate mansion. The only visions it brought to mind were of television commercials for prescription depression medications. The cessation of joy. The extinguishment of the will to live. “So that’d be a no?” my still hopeful relator asked. That would certainly be a no.

Isn’t this supposed to be a buyer’s market? 

I’m not ready to give up the hunt yet. Something is out there, waiting to be found.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Margaret
    Oct 09, 2012 @ 19:35:25

    Why are you moving? I thought you had a house already? Confused!


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