This is the house my parents built. They paid $200 for the lot, hired a contractor, and paid $3,000 to have the house built. The place: West Los Angeles. The year: 1940. The size: I don't know, but it was no bigger or smaller than any other house on the block. A homey little place. The average new house then was around 800 square feet. In 2007, it was 2,479 square feet. Interestingly, though the house size has tripled in 70 years, the family size hasn't.
I like to watch the home/garden channel. (I appreciate its lack of violence though note that new programs are being called "Room Crasher," "Design Wars.") I watch because I like to see what kinds of homes are out there and what they cost in, say, Thailand, Turkey, or Tucson. Have all prices inflated to an exorbitant degree? The answer: generally, yes. A cool million in Melbourne can buy a place that still needs renovation. Bulgaria, however, seems affordable.
I want other cultures to retain their old values and not necessarily mimic ours, yet everyone seems to have a similar wish-list whether they live in Buenos Aires, Barcelona, or Baltimore. Hardwood floors. Definitely granite counter-tops and stainless steel appliances. A spa bathroom in the master suite. High ceilings. Multiple bedrooms. Multiple bathrooms. (Wallpaper, carpeting, vinyl floors, popcorn ceilings, ho-hum hardware on kitchen cabinets, formica, and non-stainless appliances are all candidates for the room crashers to get started on the reno.)
And then everyone seems to know the vocabulary. Tray ceilings. Vessel sinks. Jack-and-Jill bathrooms. Back-splashes. Men speak of wanting a man cave. (I nearly choked with a giggle when I first heard that term.) They want a media room for their (enormous) flat-screen TVs. And, outside, a beer tub. Women want walk-in closets. Then, when they see one, they poke their husbands in the ribs and say, "Here's my closet. Where are you going to keep your things?" Women also want The Open Concept. I conclude that's because they don't want to be stuck off in the kitchen when the partying gets underway. One cooking show hostess regularly tells her guests, "Don't have any fun until I get back," as she disappears to whip up the last items.
But in large (and even small) houses, this open concept (whereby the kitchen flows into the family room) is leaving one room obsolete. The living room. The kids aren't supposed to mess it up, so they don't go in there. The guests aren't supposed to be off enjoying themselves without you. So the living room often appears to be unused like parlors of old which were only opened for a wake or when Great Aunt Betsy came to tea. Or, in smaller homes, the living room becomes the TV room. But nowadays guests congregate around a kitchen island where the snacks are spread out. Or out on the deck where the only tea Great Aunt Betsy drinks is iced.
To my mind, having an enormous house means having to buy more furniture, pay more for heating or cooling, and spend more time cleaning. Vaulted ceilings simply collect cobwebs ... plus all that expensive fuel-oil heat that ends up rising overhead. And then the kids are off in their wing, not cozily underfoot doing their homework and feeling part of the crowd. Or they're off doing what's labeled social networking rather than real-person interacting. One program showed a house in L.A. that was so big, it had a 1,700 square-foot closet which, of course, is bigger than many houses including my own. The closet included a fireplace, a little kitchen, a bathroom, and a sitting area.
But, as people become more sensible (my bias is showing), they will begin to realize the pleasure of smaller homes as well as the ease and savings in maintenance and heating. In fact, there's now a Tiny House Movement. Granted, some of the tiny houses seem no bigger than tool sheds. But they also look sweet, adorable, even tempting in their own way. I realize they would be too small for today's family, but I also know that Thoreau would have approved.
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| And here's the just-finished back of the house. |
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