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New show: REAL Estate
Mar. 13th, 2010 03:00 pmI used to love all the house-buying shows on HGTV. ShowS, plural. It used to be just "House Hunters" and that was enough. Now there's "My First Place" and "Property Virgins." They're all "House Hunters," but I suppose people might raise a stink if they looked at their program guide and saw the same program for eight straight hours.
The problem with these shows is how outlandishly unaffordable the houses are -- like half a mil and up. I'm starting to find it a mite depressing that these young couples just starting out can afford these mini-mansions, so what the hell am I doing wrong that I'm working two jobs and barely staying above water?
Because despite remembering almost nothing of my childhood, the figures of our first house-buying experience are deeply ingrained in my mind for some reason. We were approved for $120,000, but thank god we didn't shop in that range or I'd be working three jobs. The asking price for our condo was $109,000, but we offered $111,000 because we wanted the seller to pay closing costs -- this was in the halcyon days before our current buyer's market when the seller wasn't expected to pay them.
But these couples -- they start out with a limit of $700,000 (GAH), but always find the perfect house that the girl just LOVES so they get it for $730,000, and you can see the guy sweating just a little because holy shit, how are they going to pay that extra? But it doesn't matter once they're all moved in and she has everything set up just the way she likes and she didn't have to change a thing. One of the shows I like slightly more because they break that down into a monthly payment for the audience, and it's invariably $2000-$3000 a month.
If that's average for the market these days, we'll be staying in our condo until we die.
Also, the couple is always walking together in a park, or sitting side by side on the sofa, or standing side by side in the kitchen when they "get the call" their offer's been accepted (I realize it's a re-enactment). When Tery and I got that call, we were in the same place most Americans are every day: at our separate places of employment. (Same thing with our closing: we weren't told until the day of.)
The fact is, watching people shopping for these enormous 4-bedroom houses with kitchens you could hold a prom in, well, it starts to make me hate our little condo, just a tiny bit. So the other night I got tired of it and decided to watch our own episode of "House Hunters."
When we set out to buy a house, I was the one that did all the leg work. Tery was content living in our crappy low-rent townhouse in Stone Crack Village (Stone Creek, but the neighborhood lent itself nicely to the nickname) because she has always feared change. I have always been the one looking for ways to make our lives better and dragging her along with me.
I hooked up with an agent, Carrie, and we found a bunch of promising condos to look at the first day (as much as I'd love a single family house, it became quickly apparent that anything in our price range was either incredibly small, or in an incredibly dodgy neighborhood, and more often than not both).
I took along a video camera to record our adventure, thinking there would be so many to choose from we'd need the footage to keep all the options straight. In reality, there was only one clear choice, and fortunately the one we ended up with.
I had looked at exactly three other units before walking into our current home and knowing instantly it was the best we'd ever get in our range. The first three were such unbelievable dumps it was really a night/day comparison. Tery jokingly did our version of the voiceover they always do before revealing which 4000-square-foot villa with two pools and newly renovated kitchen with granite counters and stainless steel commercial-grade appliances the young couple has decided on: "Did they choose the one with the dirty litter box in the entryway? The one with the front window smashed in? Or the one that was spotlessly clean with ambient lighting and good taste in furniture?" (Seriously. Two of the first three actually had those features.)
It was slightly embarrassing watching the tape, listening to my forced attempts at seeing potential in the extremely disappointing hell-holes we first visited. Embarrassing because Carrie was doing her best to play along. Later when we signed the contract at her house, we realized she lives in a 4-bedroom villa with marble floors and a kitchen you can hold a prom in. She really earned her commission that day, because I never suspected how badly she was slumming it for my sake.
As a result of this, we'd like to see a show with more realistic house shopping represented. For the 75% of the population who don't have a budget above $200,000. Tery already has a name picked out: "REAL Estate." How perfect is that?
Our condo took my breath away watching the tape just like it did the first day I set foot in it. It was weird seeing someone else's stuff in it, but that just put me in the mood to clean up a little. Of course, this was when it was really shiny and new and didn't have a meth lab next door.
We've made some improvements since then. First we tore the carpet out of the bathroom (because carpet in a bathroom is idiotic) and laid down tiles -- the cheap peel-and-stick kind, because the subfloor was uneven concrete and we weren't ready to tackle a big project like that. We've installed a ceiling fan in the living room -- on all of HGTV's shows people recoil in horror at ceiling fans, but give me a break. We're on the top floor with vaulted ceilings. It's really the best solution for anything approaching a bearable temperature, summer or winter. We've painted walls and updated all the kitchen appliances. We put a mantel up (not a proper mantel. A piece of wood on brackets because the fireplace facade is fake oddly jutting river rock that we didn't want to tear down). Now we're finally updating this bathroom vanity (half of it).
On the makeover shows people work with budgets of $5000, $10,000, $15,000 and more. Where's the show explaining what you can do with a budget of $500?
We're getting there slowly, wherever "there" is. No matter what we do, having all these pets has really done a number on the carpet, and I hope to one day put in hardwood floors. With every improvement I have in the back of my mind "resale value," but the truth is, we'll probably die in this condo. Which is fine; considering where we could be living, I really love our condo. As long as I don't watch any more of those HGTV shows.
The problem with these shows is how outlandishly unaffordable the houses are -- like half a mil and up. I'm starting to find it a mite depressing that these young couples just starting out can afford these mini-mansions, so what the hell am I doing wrong that I'm working two jobs and barely staying above water?
Because despite remembering almost nothing of my childhood, the figures of our first house-buying experience are deeply ingrained in my mind for some reason. We were approved for $120,000, but thank god we didn't shop in that range or I'd be working three jobs. The asking price for our condo was $109,000, but we offered $111,000 because we wanted the seller to pay closing costs -- this was in the halcyon days before our current buyer's market when the seller wasn't expected to pay them.
But these couples -- they start out with a limit of $700,000 (GAH), but always find the perfect house that the girl just LOVES so they get it for $730,000, and you can see the guy sweating just a little because holy shit, how are they going to pay that extra? But it doesn't matter once they're all moved in and she has everything set up just the way she likes and she didn't have to change a thing. One of the shows I like slightly more because they break that down into a monthly payment for the audience, and it's invariably $2000-$3000 a month.
If that's average for the market these days, we'll be staying in our condo until we die.
Also, the couple is always walking together in a park, or sitting side by side on the sofa, or standing side by side in the kitchen when they "get the call" their offer's been accepted (I realize it's a re-enactment). When Tery and I got that call, we were in the same place most Americans are every day: at our separate places of employment. (Same thing with our closing: we weren't told until the day of.)
The fact is, watching people shopping for these enormous 4-bedroom houses with kitchens you could hold a prom in, well, it starts to make me hate our little condo, just a tiny bit. So the other night I got tired of it and decided to watch our own episode of "House Hunters."
When we set out to buy a house, I was the one that did all the leg work. Tery was content living in our crappy low-rent townhouse in Stone Crack Village (Stone Creek, but the neighborhood lent itself nicely to the nickname) because she has always feared change. I have always been the one looking for ways to make our lives better and dragging her along with me.
I hooked up with an agent, Carrie, and we found a bunch of promising condos to look at the first day (as much as I'd love a single family house, it became quickly apparent that anything in our price range was either incredibly small, or in an incredibly dodgy neighborhood, and more often than not both).
I took along a video camera to record our adventure, thinking there would be so many to choose from we'd need the footage to keep all the options straight. In reality, there was only one clear choice, and fortunately the one we ended up with.
I had looked at exactly three other units before walking into our current home and knowing instantly it was the best we'd ever get in our range. The first three were such unbelievable dumps it was really a night/day comparison. Tery jokingly did our version of the voiceover they always do before revealing which 4000-square-foot villa with two pools and newly renovated kitchen with granite counters and stainless steel commercial-grade appliances the young couple has decided on: "Did they choose the one with the dirty litter box in the entryway? The one with the front window smashed in? Or the one that was spotlessly clean with ambient lighting and good taste in furniture?" (Seriously. Two of the first three actually had those features.)
It was slightly embarrassing watching the tape, listening to my forced attempts at seeing potential in the extremely disappointing hell-holes we first visited. Embarrassing because Carrie was doing her best to play along. Later when we signed the contract at her house, we realized she lives in a 4-bedroom villa with marble floors and a kitchen you can hold a prom in. She really earned her commission that day, because I never suspected how badly she was slumming it for my sake.
As a result of this, we'd like to see a show with more realistic house shopping represented. For the 75% of the population who don't have a budget above $200,000. Tery already has a name picked out: "REAL Estate." How perfect is that?
Our condo took my breath away watching the tape just like it did the first day I set foot in it. It was weird seeing someone else's stuff in it, but that just put me in the mood to clean up a little. Of course, this was when it was really shiny and new and didn't have a meth lab next door.
We've made some improvements since then. First we tore the carpet out of the bathroom (because carpet in a bathroom is idiotic) and laid down tiles -- the cheap peel-and-stick kind, because the subfloor was uneven concrete and we weren't ready to tackle a big project like that. We've installed a ceiling fan in the living room -- on all of HGTV's shows people recoil in horror at ceiling fans, but give me a break. We're on the top floor with vaulted ceilings. It's really the best solution for anything approaching a bearable temperature, summer or winter. We've painted walls and updated all the kitchen appliances. We put a mantel up (not a proper mantel. A piece of wood on brackets because the fireplace facade is fake oddly jutting river rock that we didn't want to tear down). Now we're finally updating this bathroom vanity (half of it).
On the makeover shows people work with budgets of $5000, $10,000, $15,000 and more. Where's the show explaining what you can do with a budget of $500?
We're getting there slowly, wherever "there" is. No matter what we do, having all these pets has really done a number on the carpet, and I hope to one day put in hardwood floors. With every improvement I have in the back of my mind "resale value," but the truth is, we'll probably die in this condo. Which is fine; considering where we could be living, I really love our condo. As long as I don't watch any more of those HGTV shows.
