I may have an addiction to pornography. Not the soft porn of Playboy or the raunchy part of the internet. Real estate pornography.
We live in a part of the world that is surrounded by water. Land is mostly a finite resource, and becoming more expensive every day. So are the houses which occupy the land.
The Sunday paper brings with it dozens of pages of real estate advertising– the apartment dweller’s pornography. New houses and condominium projects grace page after page in full color, enticing readers with all the finer bullet points of luxurious living– somewhere else.
After all, if you’re dissatisfied with where you live, there’s only three things to do. Suffer. Move elsewhere. Look. The first is painful, the second is expensive, the third is free.
Real estate advertising is the new pornography in the land where a 700 square foot condo in a run down building sells for $330,000, or the median house sells for over $600,000.
Pornography is defined as printed or visual material containing explicit description or display of sexual activity, with the intent to stimulate erotic rather than aesthetic or emotional feelings.
Sometimes I lust after beach front properties. I get turned on by ocean views. I can only dream of hardware floors in a bedroom that’s actually larger than the bed. A kitchen in which two people can stand at the same time? I’m aroused.
How do I feel about a living room so large that everyone sitting is not forced to play tinkle toe with the person sitting nearby? Sheer joy. Depending on whose toes are tinkling, of course.
Alas, real estate pornography, as with the fleshly variety, is not for real, purely a figment of some crazed newspaper publisher’s imagination, a titillating visual treat not based on the reality of daily living in paradise.