Posted on Sun, Oct. 03, 2004
On the House | 'TOH' may need work, but it still looks good
By Al Heavens
Inquirer Columnist
Don't interpret this as a sign of weakness or advanced age, but I've decided to reach an accommodation with the folks at This Old House.
This decision doesn't come out of the blue. I made it as I watched the rough version of the first episode of the show's 25th season, which premieres on most public-television stations at 8 p.m. Thursday. It reminded me why I started watching in the first place: I wanted to learn something from smart people in a short period without having to acknowledge publicly how little I knew.
That was 1979, as I approached homeownership for the first time; the project was in Dorchester, Mass. I couldn't believe anyone would buy a house in such rough shape. And week after week, I was in awe of how well things could turn out, if you knew what you were doing or hired someone who did.
I finished watching this season's first episode with that same feeling. Although I know a lot more than I did when I was 29 (including not to buy fixer-uppers again), I concluded that there was still plenty to learn from these guys, or at least much that I've learned that I need to remember.
As anyone who has time to waste knows, This Old House is one of at least a hundred TV home shows. Some are dreadful, employing out-of-work actors between soap-opera gigs instead of experts. Most are superfluous.
In general, they reinforce what has become an all-too-common belief among my countrymen and women: that if you whine and complain long enough, you will get what you want. Patience is a vice. And if you get what you whine about for free, you cry crocodile tears of joy in front of the camera and the actor-host asks you the magic question: "How do you feel?"
I want to throw up. How do you feel?
A lot of viewers seem to thrive on this treacle - the modern bread-and-circus offering known as the "reality show." Instead of swords and nets, our gladiators are armed with 20-pound sledgehammers and reciprocating saws.
Let's not forget the rule that everyone has to be pretty. I'd prefer the face-lifts be limited to the house, thank you. And since when is the ability of a designer measured in the number of lighted candles set up around a bathtub?
Also, though I realize medium-density fiberboard is a versatile material, if you think that the armoire Trading Spaces carpenter Ty Pennington has thrown together with MDF will be around to pass down to your grandchildren, you need to visit an antiques store for a reality check.
But back to This Old House. I've never gotten a reasonable explanation why Steve Thomas left the show after 14 years. I don't think it's fair that Bob Vila, who was the show's first host and is, too, celebrating
25 years on TV this year, wasn't mentioned in passing on the first episode - even acknowledging the 17-year-old feud between Vila and creative director/founder Russ Morash.And it is way past the time that a woman, designer Alexa Hampton, became part of the TOH team. When you consider the number of women viewers this show still has, 21/2 decades of male domination doesn't send any message I'm interested in hearing.
I do think they also need to engage in more lower-end, everyday renovation projects.
But those are small points. The ill will between Vila and Morash isn't the viewers' problem. I liked Thomas, but he was more of a ringmaster than a host. The new guy is OK. And with shows designed to provide information, the messenger isn't as important as the message.
And the message, as articulated by master carpenter Norm Abram, is, "we fix up old houses."
This season's project, like its first, is a house the show is buying to renovate and sell. This one is in Carlisle, Mass., a town of 5,300 northwest of Boston.
There is a lot of work to do on this 1849 Greek Revival farmhouse, its barn, and its various appendages.
With wavy floors, space that barely accommodates a 21st-century lifestyle and little up to code (and they haven't even looked behind the walls yet), the $679,000 purchase price may be the smallest expenditure.
As contractor Tom Silva put it, "Drama is expensive."
The first house only cost $18,000. Drama was a lot cheaper in 1979.
Regards, Tom.
"People funny. Life a funny thing." Sonny Liston
Thomas J.Watson - Cabinetmaker (ret.) tjwatson1ATcomcastDOTnet (real email)