Houses on the Rocks

House hunting is a chore. House hunting in the shortsale and REO market is an art form. To see a home that was purchased for half a million dollars just a couple of brief years ago sitting in anguish, practically dilapidated from an owner who has chosen to exchange lightbulbs for red lights in the bedrooms, smear stains from God only knows what all over the once fresh paint and trample upon the floors to permanently mark the natural wood is almost too perplexing a sight to not give pause and consider.

Obviously, just two short years ago the owners of these homes were living large- or so they wanted people to think judging from the outside. But within the wide double doors is often another story unravelled when prospective owners take a gander in. What could people who once had an ample amount of money, far beyond that which most any other citizen of Planet Earth could ever dare to hope for, possibly do to create the hazardous waste environment that was once a chic dwelling? Sure there are those REOs whose foreclosed upon residents are so distraught that, in a fit of adolescent angst anew, destroy every element of the home prior to vacating. We know these stories, and some of us have even seen these homes, thanks to the past year's housing woes. It is not these homes that I am speaking of- the ones with torn out sliding doors and cupboards ripped off the walls. No, no... it is even more baffling than those sorry cases.

I'm speaking of the homes that people did not 'destroy' (in relative terms to those that have been gutted). I'm speaking of the homes that people paid more than a pretty, shiny penny for, of which had to come from somewhere, and lived in until just days or weeks ago. These homes filled with carpet that has been so soaked in various stains through several years of hard-doing that I can only imagine the orgies of bodies or paint or blueberry fights that must have been going on in them. The walls have been tattered with child's drawing from the bedrooms to the kitchens. The window screens have been methodically overlooked as tiny claws must have gashed holes in them day in and out. Were these homes ever cared for? Was there ever any pride of ownership in the $500,000 that was spent on them? Were they simply for show, secretly fettered with dirty laundry on the floors, pets run amuck and water stains from problems that reared their ugly heads only to be left untreated?

Perhaps the owners had enough of home ownership from Day One, as if they suddenly realized what they had gotten themselves into the moment they took the keys to their once new home. Too busy were they, possibly, in trying to earn back all of those crispy dollars that they failed to enjoy that which they worked so hard at keeping. It is an irony that their newfound freedom might just finally clean up their messes.