What We talk about when we talk about houses

You've got a fast car.
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a big house and live in the suburbs.

To quote the great Tracey Chapman, or as my wife would call her: the musician that she doesn't like at all and who sounds vaguely like a dude, we're once again offering on a house in Silver Spring. We've decided that it's important to have space between us and our neighbors, because neighbors are the sort of people who deal drugs and have barking dogs and who might say hi to you at a point in time when you're tired, and you really would rather not say hi or exchange pleasantries or the local going rate for Bob Hope and you just want to get back to your big house and watch your big television in the comfort of your home away from the world. Neighbors are the sort of folks who may occasionally yell at one another at night or play outside when it's warm. And maybe their damn kids will leave bikes in your yard and lower the property value and make you obsess about resale value.

I suppose that if we were moving to the south neighbors would be the sort of folks who would bring pie by the house, or stop in to say hello with down home goodness. Unless we moved to Georgia, and then they'd be the sort of folks who'd run a whiskey sill and play the banjo. (Internal shiver). Or maybe they'd be like the neighbors of my childhood who turned out to be our distant relatives. Though, according to the popular jokes folks in the south (like me) are closely related anyway. (Re-zoning of U.S. coming once I figure out what GPS stands for).

The long and the short of it is that DC has spit us poor yuppies out into the burbs. Can you be a yuppie and poor? Is the term hipster? I don't think we're hip enough to live in a hipster neighborhood. I don't think hipsters check crime rates. They look for cool local coffee shops and hole in the wall restaurants with good food. Where are all the poor yuppies like us moving?

The upshot of this whole process is that if we don't get the house that we already could have had that we'll suddenly need to become hipsters. We'll have run out of options. We'll purchase ourselves a small dog, and take up social smoking. We'll develop looks on our face that communicate to other people that we have experienced and known things like ennui, but we've overcome them and now have a brighter outlook on life. We'll frequent antique stores and eschew places like Whole Foods in favor of purchasing all of our groceries at local markets or restaurants. We will once again become people who frequently go to music concerts and look vaguely and intentionally bored. We will laugh at crime rates and talk about the thrill of living amongst the masses. We will walk naked down the street and set fire to all the houses! (Oh, sorry, got a little carried away at the end there. I'm not entirely sure that S would be down for that...I would).

Alternatively if that plan doesn't work out my friend Chris has offered to include us in his bike gang so that we can rob the hipsters ourselves. No matter what scenario our move follows it is going to involve me on a bike, which spells imminent doom.

I think I'm going to set my final demand as a house with a pool in back and a trained seal. Just think how amused everyone would be to see a trained seal eating fish and playing with a beach ball every time they came over to our house. We could call him Ajax or flipper or something, and train him to clap on demand and maybe give him a bow tie and a little hat. He could serve dinner to us and become like part of the family until we phased him out for the new model in his declining years, but somewhere we'd know that what we were doing was wrong, and that we were just moving on again to avoid for the moment the overwhelming feeling of sadness that sometimes accompanies being human. Anyhow, if you've a seal and a pool please send all offers our way!

P.S. When we get a house I expect to see all five of you people who have read this blog at our house warming. Come hell or high water. Though, if either comes, we may have to move the party indoors.