Flip this house?

We all know that the world is changing fast and we are all just trying to keep up.

On those days when the phone keeps ringing with annoying calls from the time-share people or that chick Kathy who will solve all my woes with an amazing credit card offer, it’s always nice to take a step back and try to remember when life was easier.

For me, it can happen when I show a Victorian home. Those high, majestic ceilings and warm wood tones always make me want to bake some bread. Or how about those charming little farmhouses that are tucked away hidden behind a massive red barn? A hard day’s work and an evening sitting on a rickety old chair listening to the sounds of the night while sipping on some lemonade. I can understand these things and sometimes find them to be very comforting.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to step back in time once again.

The house was a very ‘60s ranch-style home with some very state-of-the-art fixtures. For a brief moment I was speechless, and not due to the price.

It was all about the fixtures. I mean—lovely brown shag carpet with a hint of cigarette smoke, avocado-green appliances which included the sink, celutex drop ceiling tiles with tiny flecks of golden sparkles and, of course, one more thing. What would the ‘60s be like without that pretty dark, fake walnut paneling. The lava lamps on the end tables and beads in the doorways gave it just the right finishing touch.

I took a moment to look around because I was sure that Greg Brady from the Brady Bunch was milling around in there some place. Most likely he was blended into the bean-bag chair in the corner, his brown suede, fringed jacket a perfect match to the color of the chair.

Okay, I have watched all of those flip-this-house episodes, I have spent 20 years marketing, suggesting, and working in real estate. I have also come to one conclusion. I am quite certain that everyone was smoking some really great dope, holding a joint up to their lips and of course not inhaling or misusing pharmaceuticals during that entire era.

The flip-this-house folks of the ‘60s must have been like, “Hey man, now don’t ya just think that avacado green stove is like… so there?” or “So, like, let’s just reflect while we take a long look at those beads, man.”

My mother and father had used that same stuff in our family room, or the Florida room, as it was known. It seems to me we also had some furry brown furniture and lamps that resembled palm trees. I don’t think that the two of them smoked dope, but I am questioning their taste level at this moment.

So now I think that I am going to go home and get some of that lemonade, sit back on my farmhouse porch, listen for Kathy the recorded problem solver to clog up my answering machine and remember that the simpler times were not always so simple.