Monday, February 6, 2012

Carpet

We just moved across town into a new house. And I mean new. In a city crammed with some of the oldest, strangest, most interesting and most beautiful housing stock available anywhere on the North American continent, we moved into a house manufactured in 2009 as part of a mixed income development. The appliances are fresh and crisp. All of the doors and windows shut properly. There are literally infinite numbers of light fixtures. The gently textured drywall is as pristine and smooth as a puppy's belly. Tasteful, off-white colored carpeting is everywhere, heaped in great plush piles and whispering soft chemical susurrations throughout the well-insulated interior. There is a Wal-Mart not 60 yards away (albeit the Wal-Mart where this video was shot.)

What's not to love?
I am very enthusiastic about it so far. One reason is that we are sharing the house with its owner, a friend of ours who bought the place two years ago right after it was built, and while the fact that she became a homeowner at age 23 clearly makes her a threatening and malicious person, it looks like she is going to be a lot of fun to live with. (For example, we get to draw and splatter foods on the living room carpet because it's going to be replaced with laminate flooring soon.)

But another reason is that I think I like living in a new house like this! I didn't realize it until just now, but I've never lived in a house so new. Probably because I am basically still stuck in college in my head, I have always been prone to choosing apartments in large old houses, places with lilting floorboards and creaking porches and lovely, dingy facades and a perpetual dearth of insulation. When I look for a place, that's what I've automatically gone for: houses that look and feel real, with rooms worn away into gnarled organic shapes by all the years of lives flitting through them. Ok, for what, though? How much do such underlying aesthetics improve quality of life once you're actually living there? And when everything is coated thick with a layer of all your stuff anyway, what difference does it make?

I like the prefab comfortableness of this environment, frankly. Faceless, yes, but so what? Living here is like staying in a Ramada Inn all the time but with more space, and multiple bathrooms, and a room sized mini-bar with fantastic prices. Who wouldn't go for that?

Now that that's established, I'm off to register Republican and have sexual fantasies about NFL cheerleaders.

8 comments:

  1. Fuck you. I love being cold all winter and hot all summer. It's THE AMMMMMMBBBIIIAAANNNNNNNCCCCCCCE

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  2. If you are suggesting you have more authenticity than us now, I will come over and shoot you.

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  3. I am right there with you, samtron77e. I don't like carpet at all, but I do find myself liking newer structures and insulation more and more. I hope to one day live in a structure that is new when I move in, not when my grandparents might have moved in.

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  4. I mean, I guess the best would be an older place that's been remodeled and brought up to current standards in such regards as energy efficiency. Our last house was well insulated but old and beautiful (although there were still almost no right angles inside).

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  5. Finally. Honestly, that preference of yours really annoyed/ annoys me. Not only because I imputed that false sense of authenticity to your motive, but also because, beyond the underlying structural deformities, these beautiful places are often located in not-so-great areas of cities (see: concentric zone model) and present inherent security risks (like poor lighting and an inability to seal windows and doors). I always hoped you'd at least get a good dog...

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  6. I will, however, say that living in a condo-esque, whitewashed kind of environment is best for those in good emotional health. If not, it's a bit like checking into a hotel by yourself, repeatedly, which is an exceedingly lonely experience.

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  7. I guess it's a fine line between aesthetic preference and a false sense of authenticity. I hate that line. What do you mean about not-so-great areas of the city, though? Do you just mean places that aren't suburbs? Also, you also used to argue against listening to music partly because it makes it easier for someone to "sneak up on me".

    Alex, are you listening to this?

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  8. What's wrong with the suburbs?

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