Cold War pimpin' Dream House

As first time home buyers we were asked to make a list of desirable features. Stuff like marble ceilings, full wall mirrors in every room, an indoor swing, bomb shelter and Lion head door-knobs didn't make the cut. That stuff costs big money and try as we did, none of it was found in houses in our meager price range. Except for the swing. But that house made me feel like I picked up a venerial disease just walking in.

So the second time around we have more strategic desires. Now we know despite how Mike Tyson might decorate, marble goes on counter-tops and entry way floor, not ceilings. Mirrors go on ceilings. Duh.

All I really want is a little more shop space and not to have to make the same improvements yet again on a different house. And of course, Lion head door knobs. A would be happy with kitchen cabinets that allow her to reach the top shelf. G wants train tracks in every room and tunnels through every wall. I can't fault either of them.

So all that said, here are a few highlights of our options:

This basement was 'move in ready'. I thought it would be a good place to have an 'under the sea' prom -after party at.

The finished garage is a classic. I would put the tv facing the parked car though so as to also get that drive in feel on date night.

These were the finest ceiling tiles I've seen by far. Not a new install either! This whole house was a time machine. I kept waiting for Christopher Walken to come out from around a corner as Calvin Webber from the movie Blast from the Past.

Dew-drops along the basement stairs.

This basement was the best man-town I've seen. The downside, not pictured was the furnace which was as big as an SUV.

Seriously, the pool table matches the paneling. The poker table and matching Joker light = good times. Off to the right is the wet bar. This was the only part of the house that didn't need work!

Remember her for later...

Gavin said there was no way he could pee in a girls bathroom. So had to scratch this one off the list.

I think the dirty perv bathroom got some movie time in the 70's.



Okay, this bed...friggin RAD! Imagine the cheesecake oil painting in the same room. A and I both wanted to buy the house just to get the bed worked into the deal.

Friday the 13th Special Guest Contributor Edition

photo: Getty images

One doesn't undergo seven surgeries in five years without spending some serious time at the Dr's office. Like piles of base miles to a world class cyclist, the fundamentals of reading year-old magazines and staring at the carpet while passing time in waiting rooms are the ham and eggs of a professional patiet such as my lovely wife A. Below, as a special guest contributor to this blog (whose only real rival is, of course, The New Yorker) is an email she sent me recently. Enjoy...

So I'm at Dr. S, my gastro-guy (he's the upper one, not the lower one) and there is a dude in the waiting room with me worth telling you about. First he spent about 10 minutes texting someone with a really old phone (where to get a letter "c" you have to push the correct # key 3 times). What made it awesome is it beeped really loud for each time he pushed. And it was a long text.

Then he got up and went to the water cooler and drank a Dixie cup of water like a maniac, gulping it so fast water trickled out the sides of his mouth. The cup holds like 1 ounce of water so I could not figure how he managed this. Then he belched loudly, repeatedly and LONG (no 'excuse me').

Next his phone rang and he told the caller that if they didn't stop texting him he'd change the number and call the cops!!! He was pissed! While he's screaming into the phone he's also trying to get some Tums out of a bottle and drops a bunch on the floor. So he picks them up and eats all of them. I'm talking about 8 Tums!

I'm trying so hard not to laugh or stare 'cause now he's back to texting but now it's angry texting with a very jabby pointer finger and muttering. I'm guessing he's at the doc today because of the hole he's burned in his gut from being a rager.

Incognito

A few weeks ago G and I were at Home Depot and amid the excitement of buying project supplies he pee'd his pants. Sucks, but goes with the territory of late. It seems he's been swinging at bad pitches and watching the good ones pass over the plate without even flinching. He'll stand or sit at the porcelain with no action, then do the cowboy walk through the doorknob aisle with urine seeping out his shoes.

"It's all a process," I told us both trying to be an example and stay cool as we left the store. People laughed at his scowl or asked,"Why the pouting, little man?" I didn't understand that one as anyone only had to look at his soaked pants or the trail of urine droplets from his Lighting McQueen kicks to figure out why a 3 year old might turn foul. Hell, my smile would be upside down if I drained my bladder into my Samba's in public.

Two weeks and some heavy head colds pass and G and I find ourselves back at Home Depot to pick up some small bits to finish our project. It's pouring rain and snowing a little so I say to him that we gotta hurry so we can get back before the inside of the car gets cold again. He agrees but stalls while insisting to put on his sunglasses.

I'll be honest; I don't care if the kid wears pajamas to church. He's got a doll named Abby that's either his sister or daughter depending on the day. Abby doesn't bother me. Abby's mom is always A so him being the dad gets a little dicey, but he's also got a Rocky Balboa action figure and fire trucks and helicopters so the doll doesn't shake my conviction that he's all dude.

Suffice it to say the shades have no effect other than slowing us down. Inside the store people point and laugh. Ha, ha, funny stuff, a kid in shades on a rainy day. Great, I'm in a hurry. G's a good sport, keeping up and not wandering off to collect stuff he thinks we need. What we need are 2 electrical plug covers and one more tube of paneling glue. We get through the store unscathed and back to the car before the seats even got cold. All is well.

Then at home it hit me. He wore the shades because he didn't want to be recognized as the kid who left a puddle of pee in the store two weeks ago. I wish I could buy him a beer.