The big story on our local news these days? Extreme Makeover: Home Edition has been filming in Raleigh for the last week, and today is the big reveal. (Although the actual episode won’t air until sometime in January, or so I hear.) Now, this isn’t a show I watch—shocking, right? and you thought I watched everything!—so I haven’t been following the progress of the house as devotedly as, say, the people who are going there everyday and standing out in the cold, desperate to see Ty Pennington. (Now, if Veronica Mars decided to come film here, or Studio 60, I would certainly stand in the cold to see Jason Dohring or Matthew Perry. No question.) Still, it’s been kind of fun to see the whole production as it happens. There have been daily reports in the paper about the slowness of filming–the demo itself, which involved cars ripping the house down, took multiple takes—how the neighbors have been inconvenienced, conservationists wondering why they’re tearing the whole house down instead of restoring it, and lots of detail about Ty’s hair and how much gel he uses in it. (Someone at the News and Observer is very interested in this, for some reason.) The big reveal is today, apparently. I’m sure it will be adequately covered.
The truth is, I’ve never really gotten into home improvement shows. I used to kind of like Trading Spaces, but the truth is I have no flair for decorating, AT ALL. I know people who can pick up a bowl and put it on a table and it’s art, but I am NOT one of them. Maybe it’s genetic. Neither of my parents were the type to really care much about things like carpet, or furniture: as long as we had some of each, the particulars didn’t really matter. I do love to walk into a room that’s perfectly decorated, like Nate does on Oprah, with festive pillows and colorful rugs and little knicknacks (but not too many!) out on the tables, but actually doing it in my own house? Not happening.
The other reason I haven’t gotten into home shows is my husband. He’s a builder, and so spends all day working with people who are remodeling, or adding onto their houses: the last thing he wants to do when he gets home after a long day is watch more of the same. It’s entirely too stressful. I used to think this was sort of silly, until I tried to imagine what it would be like for me to watch a show where someone was, say, trying to write a new YA book. Plot points! Character development! Agent/Editor/Reader expectations! Personal neurosis! Sounds compelling, sure, but honestly, I’m getting nervous just sitting here imagining it. TV is supposed to be an escape, I guess. If you work in an office, you relax by watching someone rip a house apart and put it back together. If you spend your day working on houses, you want to watch people solving crimes or medical mysteries (if my husband’s viewing tastes are any indication). And if you’re a writer, you just want to watch ANYTHING that has NOTHING to do with your book, which you already think about 24-7, but can sometimes drown out, albeit momentarily, with an episode of Grey’s or Gilmore. No plot points. No staring at a blinking cursor. Now, that’s relaxing. Ahhhh.
(Speaking of Gilmore Girls, for the few who have asked: I’m ready for Chris to be out of there. April too. Isn’t that terrible? She’s just a kid! But I want Luke and Lorelei back. It’s time!)