Once In A Lifetime
"And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack - And you may find yourself in another part of the world - And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile - And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife - And you may ask yourself-'well...how did I get here?'"
There's probably only one other lyric that was ever more true to me at this point in time.
I managed to keep myself from following the standard route of get married, buy a house, have kids, and settle down for much longer than many of my contemporaries. Whether it was determined by outside forces or my own doing, I found myself in my early 30s living a lifestyle I enjoyed in my 20s. Staying out late, roughhousing on my weekends, generally having a good time. I made fun of friends who were married and having children; spending their nights and weekends working around the house and attending soccer games. And then, something went terribly wrong.
Falling in love has a way of rearranging your life. Suddenly you're doing things you would have never done otherwise. For instance, and to get to the point of this post, you buy a house that needs some work.
A week ago the wife and I closed on a 'new' house. 'New' to us and apparently 'new' to updates and maintenance. For whatever reason, the house we decided to make 'ours' must have had a previous owner who didn't know how to use a vacuum or a feather duster. Finally, the phrase 'I ought to have my head examined' is fitting.
We've torn up carpet, pulled nails and staples from hardwood floors, peeled wallpaper, hung drywall, painted, fixed toilets, showers, sinks, and this is just the list of things that need done before we even move in. My weekends are no longer mine to enjoy. Instead, we are up early (to walk the new dog, right?) and head to the 'new' house to get scraped, banged, bruised, and just about every other malady you can come up with. Add to this the fact that, although I renounced my 'Jewishness' years ago, I'm still Jewish enough to not be very 'handy' as well as, shall we say 'thrifty'. Not sure about how we're coming out in the battle of saving money by doing it ourselves versus fucking things up by doing it ourselves. To the best of my knoweldge, there was only one Jewish carpenter, and we all know how that turned out.
I'm now learning the ins, outs and what-have-yous about Home Depot. The wife and I are enjoying such scenes as wandering aimlessly looking for something we don't know what it looks like, what it's called or what it does, but we know they must have it, and someone told us we need it. There's nothing more pathetic than openly arguing with your spouse about whether to get 1" or 2" masking tape (and here I'm not even sure if the figging double quote mark denotes inches or feet). I'm planning on writing a letter to Home Depot recommending they add a Divorce Department.
"And you may ask yourself 'How do I work this?' And you may ask yourself 'Where is that large automobile?' And you may tell yourself 'This is not my beautiful house!' And you may tell yourself 'This is not my beautiful wife!'.
So now another weekend has passed and we're probably still another week away from getting moved into this house. In more accurate words, I have another week house projects ahead of me, and the beauty is we're only fixing the stuff we know is fucked up. Imagine the exhiliration we'll feel when we discover all the crap wrong with the house that we don't even know about! Friends now call to laugh and ask how things are going while they're riding bikes and watching football. I'm not on the outside looking in at a life I once mocked, shunned and ridiculed.
I suppose this is the part of the post where you're expecting me to wrap everything up with 'but it's all worthwhile as we build our dream house together'. Instead, I'll leave you with the 'truer' lyric:
"And you may ask yourself, 'Where is that beautiful house?' And you may ask yourself 'Where does that highway go to?' And you may ask yourself 'Am I right? ...am I wrong?' And you may say to yourself, 'My god!...what have I done?"
There's probably only one other lyric that was ever more true to me at this point in time.
I managed to keep myself from following the standard route of get married, buy a house, have kids, and settle down for much longer than many of my contemporaries. Whether it was determined by outside forces or my own doing, I found myself in my early 30s living a lifestyle I enjoyed in my 20s. Staying out late, roughhousing on my weekends, generally having a good time. I made fun of friends who were married and having children; spending their nights and weekends working around the house and attending soccer games. And then, something went terribly wrong.
Falling in love has a way of rearranging your life. Suddenly you're doing things you would have never done otherwise. For instance, and to get to the point of this post, you buy a house that needs some work.
A week ago the wife and I closed on a 'new' house. 'New' to us and apparently 'new' to updates and maintenance. For whatever reason, the house we decided to make 'ours' must have had a previous owner who didn't know how to use a vacuum or a feather duster. Finally, the phrase 'I ought to have my head examined' is fitting.
We've torn up carpet, pulled nails and staples from hardwood floors, peeled wallpaper, hung drywall, painted, fixed toilets, showers, sinks, and this is just the list of things that need done before we even move in. My weekends are no longer mine to enjoy. Instead, we are up early (to walk the new dog, right?) and head to the 'new' house to get scraped, banged, bruised, and just about every other malady you can come up with. Add to this the fact that, although I renounced my 'Jewishness' years ago, I'm still Jewish enough to not be very 'handy' as well as, shall we say 'thrifty'. Not sure about how we're coming out in the battle of saving money by doing it ourselves versus fucking things up by doing it ourselves. To the best of my knoweldge, there was only one Jewish carpenter, and we all know how that turned out.
I'm now learning the ins, outs and what-have-yous about Home Depot. The wife and I are enjoying such scenes as wandering aimlessly looking for something we don't know what it looks like, what it's called or what it does, but we know they must have it, and someone told us we need it. There's nothing more pathetic than openly arguing with your spouse about whether to get 1" or 2" masking tape (and here I'm not even sure if the figging double quote mark denotes inches or feet). I'm planning on writing a letter to Home Depot recommending they add a Divorce Department.
"And you may ask yourself 'How do I work this?' And you may ask yourself 'Where is that large automobile?' And you may tell yourself 'This is not my beautiful house!' And you may tell yourself 'This is not my beautiful wife!'.
So now another weekend has passed and we're probably still another week away from getting moved into this house. In more accurate words, I have another week house projects ahead of me, and the beauty is we're only fixing the stuff we know is fucked up. Imagine the exhiliration we'll feel when we discover all the crap wrong with the house that we don't even know about! Friends now call to laugh and ask how things are going while they're riding bikes and watching football. I'm not on the outside looking in at a life I once mocked, shunned and ridiculed.
I suppose this is the part of the post where you're expecting me to wrap everything up with 'but it's all worthwhile as we build our dream house together'. Instead, I'll leave you with the 'truer' lyric:
"And you may ask yourself, 'Where is that beautiful house?' And you may ask yourself 'Where does that highway go to?' And you may ask yourself 'Am I right? ...am I wrong?' And you may say to yourself, 'My god!...what have I done?"
posted by Pino at 6:37 PM
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