All who shall read this...Rob here. So yeah, by now you've had "story time with Danielle," and no doubt think that I'm some snobbish prude who won't live anywhere but Beverly Hills. So now, in my defense, let me offer my reasons for "burning down Denise (cough - Danielle's - cough) dream house. First of all, it was not on the water. In the real estate world, the property was called "water view" meaning that some small patch of water may be seen from some vantage point on the property. In this case, the water in question was across the street, on the other side of another row of houses. So, in effect, if one wanted to "view" the water from the home in question, one would have to have "go-go Gadget x-ray vision" of some kind. Second, in order to spruce up the place, the real estate company that now owns the property made a large number of improvements (enter the "stone floors, hardwood floors in the kitchen, and finished basement") that Danielle mentioned. What she didn't mention was that the stone flagons which comprised most of the floor of the main living space had some sort of defect or another, and were no doubt bought from the "defective, on sale" pile at Home Depot. So...now we make our way to the "finished" basement. If you looked at the superstructure surrounding the stairway, you would have noticed that the original, slightly "distressed", circa 1956 load bearing beams were only covered by a small sheath of pressboard akin to that seen in old elementary school classrooms and really shoddy beach houses (you know, the kind where the builders think the place will be whacked by a hurricane anyway, so why waste the money on nice materials?) Ok...on to the basement. Nice, well lit, open room, until you walk around and realize that you're walking on a concrete foundation that is as rolling and hilly as the Appalachians...yet cleverly hidden beneath berber carpet and thick padding. Not exactly poured to standards. And then, you see the "storm cellar" door. Walk around some more, and you see the exposed duct work and piping in the "finished" basement, just before you walk out the "storm cellar" door. Yes. Storm cellar. The whole reason people have storm cellars is that so in extreme inclement weather (i.e. the hurricane that flooded Baltimore in 2003), one can avoid bodily harm in the cellar while the rest of the home is blown away by mother nature's fury. Yeah. if I'm going to deal with mother Nature's fury, I better have my own private beach out front, not a narrow street and neighbors with rusty chain-link fencing and redneck trucks. And...and! On the drive out to this "gem," I noticed not only a no-kidding "sea shipping container" (you know, huge steel box with rivets) in the yard of a property 6 streets away, but also a few residences that had been converted into auto mechanic garages and landscaping businesses. So...substandard craftsmanship, shady neighbors, property zoning problems, a pittance of a "water view" of any kind, narrow streets, an aluminum back porch enclosure (forgot to mention that), all in a town with an average crime rating of 5.0 (Well above the national average of 3.2). Not exactly a place I would feel safe leaving my new wife alone while I have to go off to Africa for 6 months. Not that Scout isn't the epitome of a watch dog, but there's only so much the little guy can do. Bottom line...I love my fiance. The home we end up with will be of fine craftsmanship, in a safe neighborhood with other occupants of like lifestyle to our own. Call me a snob, do what you will...I can't help that I want a safe place to settle down with the love of my life...this is Rob...signing off for now :) Thanks folks.
