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Thursday, November 20, 2008

HUNTLEY ADDIE: When it comes to homes, size is not everything

posted by BOFarrell at 7h57

by Huntley Addie

As our homes age along with us, some own the rights to a facelift.
However, it seems to me that in a lot of these facelifting renovation plans, size is what really matters.
In Baie d’Urfé, we have large lots. It’s not that we’re all rich. It’s actually due to toilets, plumbing and septic tanks.
Growing up here, I’ve grown to love living on a significant amount of land. Mowing, snow blowing and leaf raking are some of the shortcomings, but the long and short of it is that I feel tremendously fortunate to be able to complain about that.
My love of land will be passed on to my daughter by osmosis, I presume.
Recently, I’ve watched, even in Baie d’Urfé, land of mega lots, a trend – construction of gargantuan homes.
Does size really matter?
As we gaze headlong into this deepening pool of recession/depression, it seems that there are quite a few people out there who feel that they deserve the biggest house ever. As if, prior to their birth, there was a massive IOU in place. The planet owes them a huge mansion on the hill. This will finally complete them.
I wonder if this volume entitlement is going to be passed on to their children as well. And, subsequently, I wonder how it will end.
Just how big a home do we need?
For with the bigger homes, comes the need to fill them with more and more stuff.
I had a surprisingly enlightening conversation at the local grocery store a while back. I bumped into a acquaintance and asked how her new place was.
Her family had just recently moved into a new house that they had designed and built. While their old home was being torn down, and the new place constructed, they had moved a block or so away, into a small, unassuming bungalow. My assumption, like most, was that finally moving into their new house was all that the dream had promised, particularly accentuated by their recent comparative living conditions. I was curious to see how it was all going.
Her response was telling. She spoke about how the new place is obviously great and all, but too big – massive, echoing, empty. She seemed to truly miss the bungalow and the feeling of home that the closeness allowed.
A student of mine wrote to me about going over to his friend’s house to watch movies. His friend had all the gadgets, and it was always great to hang out in the home theatre in the basement.
He wrote about how while being in the basement one day while his friend’s parents were out, some people broke into the place, spent some time upstairs and then left. The house was so big, no one was the wiser.
It kind of freaked the student out.
I wouldn’t want a place where I have to refer to wings.
I can’t get over the size of the homes that are constantly being built or re-built. Everything nowadays is huge.
Why do people need this? Why does it have to be more, more, more?
I think there is a serious problem, as more and more people seem to gauge their sense of self by the size of the house on their lot, or the television resolution capacity, or simply the number of shoes they own.
What is perhaps the biggest issue, speaking of size, is that of insecurity. Insecurity is passed on as well, much like a virus.
I remember well the ‘covet-bug.’ Oh, it’s still alive and well. Just recently, I overheard a student at school expressing a sense of injustice because she wasn’t getting an iPod Touch for her Sweet 16 when “everyone else had one.”
I’m not sure that this loss qualifies as being truly hard-done-by, particularly during this turbulent economic vibe.
The truly hard-done-by, ironically, are perhaps those who have chosen to work incessantly simply to afford more big things, which allow them to cling to a false sense of identity based upon this materialism.
Oh, and this doesn’t even brush upon credit.
Simply put, lots of stuff crammed into bigger spaces does not for happiness make. And, sing it Paul, for money can’t buy me love.
True love is all about breathing bodies within walls of a place called home. These bodies, perhaps huddled closest together, create the warmth that truly makes a home where the heart wants to be.

Huntley Addie is a teacher at John Rennie whose classroom is the same size as the next teacher’s.