House: Here for It, #362

Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!

Did you see the crowds celebrating the news that Ann Patchett's new novel, Whistler, is #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list?

People marched through the streets to celebrate Patchett's victory in at least 7 major U.S. cities. In Philadelphia, Gritty dressed up at Uncle Wallace from Tom Lake. In Boston, a drag queen named Sabinetown, sobbing with joy, performed a magic act.

The crowd outside the Waldenbooks in midtown gathered the minute the Bestseller list came out, and chanted "ANN! ANN! ANN!" until at least 4 am. Outside of Books Are Magic in Brooklyn, the crowd turned the celebration into a block party. A food truck is serving Japanese-Peruvian fusion cuisine in honor of Bel Canto.

I can't wait to dig into Whistler. I accidentally ordered three copies and also the audiobook and by accidentally, I mean, on purpose because I love Ann Patchett so much and I am in the Ann Patchett fan club (President, Philly Chapter). And I have been looking forward all year to getting to cozy up with another Billboard Hot 100 banger of a book and now I finally can, because an incredibly tough period of work is done (for now!), and I'm going on vacation in two days, and I'm setting my out-of-office for the first time in years, and, like the stepmother in The Dutch House, I am determined and flawed!

I will certainly tell you all my thoughts on Whistler, but I don't have any yet except "YAY!" "WOW!" "WHOOPIE!"

Me, on the Provincetown Ferry in three days

So, instead, I want to talk to you about real estate.

A little over a year ago, I went to 15 Open Houses in one weekend and oh, Lord, the atrocities that befell mine eyes. Now, why did I go to so many Open Houses in one weekend? Well, I was trying to buy a house, see. And also I was seeing places that would get snatched up by offers while I was yet descending the staircase and still making notes in my Home Buying Moleskin. It was a fraught time!

You go to Open Houses to see what's what and to be nosy and to learn your taste. But in a competitive market, with a home-buying budget that is modest but not absurd, you see all manner of quickly flipped monstrosities and Frankenstein creations with their humble origins as small South Philly row homes barely disguised by Millennial Gray floorboards and hastily cobbled together first floor half-baths that open directly into the space where a dining room table will be.

Me, wondering why you painted over that beautiful exposed brick

You behold the most peculiar staging choices. Like those Sarah J. Maas books stacked on a little white IKEA cube in the corner of a bedroom to suggest... a reading nook? Everyone who staging a house had those Sarah J. Maas books. I have to figure out how to get people to start staging their houses with my books. Should I ship a box to every realtor in the Philadelphia area?

In one house, a tiny room was outfitted as a yoga studio with one lone mat sitting in the middle of the room, like a threat.

The concept of centeredness

People do the strangest things to their houses, aesthetically and structurally. And I'm not judging, per se. When I go to a friend's house, I don't look at the cabinets to inspect the straightness of their installation or study the grout on their tile or wonder why on Earth there's no bannister on this death staircase. But I become that judge and jury when I go to an Open House.

(When I say "I'm judging" I specifically mean "I'm Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson in & Juliet (Live on Broadway).")

I was reminded of this Andre Leon Talley quote. He was bemoaning the state of fashion and he declared, "There's a famine of taste!"And I found myself wandering through various homes with black iron railings attached to staircases of indeterminate strength muttering, "the famine... the famine of taste."

Sometimes, in the home shopping process, as I am buffeted left and right by figures and facts and terms that I am sure I've heard but don't understand. It's like when I watch the weather and they talk about a low pressure system and I think, "surely I'm not meant to have kept the knowledge of what that means in my mind. Unfortunately, I have used up all of this space to remember the names of various Best Supporting Actresses and minot plot points in Ann Patchett novels. But good luck to all, meteorologically."

Ultimately, a year ago, I did find a house I wanted to buy. (It did not end up working out, but more on that next week.) And so I said, "I want to buy this." And they said, "Okay..." And I said, "Great!" but inside I thought, "Why is anyone letting me, a child, do this?"

I feel like this about so much of adulthood, honestly. Yes, I am an adult and I'm allowed to go the Cheesecake Factory, in fact, any time I want, thank you. But also, crucially (and do not forget this) I am a child and so you cannot be mean to me or hold me responsible for my actions or say complicated things to me like "did you file your state taxes?"

The last few months, as you may have guessed from the absence of newsletters, have been A LOT and I frequently thought, "I cannot believe that I am working so much, so hard, on so many different things. Aren't there child labor laws to prevent this?" But, factually, I am in my 40s so the attorney general has declined to investigate. I'll keep fighting this, however. Because, like Beverly Keating in Commonwealth by Ann Patchett, I am goal-oriented and often acting against my own best interests!

Let's Hang Out!

I have three new shows coming up!

As you may recall, I'm a producer of a new comedy festival called Variety Pack here in Philly. We're doing another week of shows--improv, sketch, stand-up, clowning, and more. Shows for kids! Shows for adults! Shows for ghosts! You can find the full line-up here. And come check out one of the shows I'm in, listed below.