Really Big Houses

One of the problems with living in Disneyland on the Potomac is that lots of people can't actually afford to live here. The cost of homes - even with the collapse of the housing market - is such that many young couples just starting out can't find homes they can afford within a reasonable distance of where they work. The vast herds of wealthy lobbyists, lawyers, corporate executives, and similar demigods has driven the price of real estate to stratospheric heights, and has led to the proliferation of the sprawling edifices disparagingly called "McMansions" - gigantic houses with all sorts of tasteful (and expensive) extras like gourmet kitchens, sun rooms, multi-car garages, spa-quality bathrooms, media rooms, game rooms, home gyms, and so on. Of course, land being as expensive as it is, these gigantic homes tend to sit on postage-stamp-sized lots, so that you have to turn sideways to walk between your mansion and your neighbor's mansion. It's ludicrous.

And it's expensive. If you're a clerk at the local grocery store, a janitor, a short-order cook, or a minor government employee with a title below the rank of First Principal Vice Deputy Assistant Under Secretary of Homeland Security for Making Air Travel a Pain in the Ass, you can't afford to buy a home appropriate to your income and the size of your family anywhere close to the capitol of your country...and you probably couldn't afford to pay the property taxes even if you could.

But nevertheless, I would love to live in a Really Big House.

I grew up in a modest 3-bedroom house in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with my parents, two brothers, and sister. Eventually, my father turned the basement into a bedroom for two of us, and installed a second (half) bathroom, which helped ease the crowding. But I always dreamed of having a Really Big House in which I didn't have to wait in line for a bathroom. In which I could have a bedroom to sleep in and another room for all my stuff. A Really Big House with long hallways, grand staircases, dens, parlors, sitting rooms, a solarium, and big French windows opening out onto terraces overlooking smooth, emerald-green lawns dotted with trees and flower beds. And a library - it absolutely must have a library, preferably with a nice stone fireplace. And a big kitchen with enough counter space that aircraft in trouble could make emergency landings without hitting the sink.

I'll never own the Really Big House of my dreams. But I'm close enough, and perfectly happy with what we have. Agnes and I have 2-1/2 bathrooms, so we're never far from relief when nature calls (and she calls much more often as we get older, dontcha know). We also have five bedrooms, allocated as follows:

The Grand Imperial Master Bedroom (use your imagination);

The Guest Room (which is large enough to be comfortable, and small enough to discourage lengthy stays);

The Nest (where Agnes can curl up with a book while her hair dries, and where we can stash the overflow from other rooms during spasms of housecleaning);

My Study (shared with Agnes); and,

Agnes's Workshop (currently piled high with fabric and equipped with an array of fancy sewing machines that each have more computer power than NASA used to put Neil Armstrong on the moon).

It's a minor-league place when compared even to the smaller of the McMansions, but it's a good size for us, and the payoff of the mortgage is actually glimmering on the not-so-distant horizon. We've worked hard be able to live in our nice, comfy Maison de Bilbo, and I'm not complaining.

But if I ever win the lottery, I'm getting my Really Big House. I think, at Northern Virginia prices, we can afford this one ...

And someone to clean it.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo