The Rage to Remodel

Bug bites suburban couple

By Mary Mendoza

It begins with a simple weekend project that suddenly, inexplicably takes on the proportions of the Allied invasion of Normandy.

You move on to the next remodeling project and are soon obsessing over floor tile, doorknobs and bathroom fixtures. You have tantrums at home centers, spend hours alone in the garage talking to your drill bits and neglect personal grooming.

In your free time you pour over how-to manuals, sketch plans for a sunroom you don't need and fantasize about the $75,000 kitchen remodels in Sunset. You begin a dozen remodeling projects and finish none of them.

If this sounds familiar, you have what Steve Thomas, formerly of This Old House, calls "renovator's bug."

Renovator's bug is an infatuation with remodeling. It can't be cured with a dose of Tylenol Flu or by a visit from the Orkin man. You either outgrow it; learn to live with it or they cart you away to the Home for Hopeless Home Remodelers.

Don't blame yourself for being bugged. It's in your genes. Statistics show if you're related to a person who has never completed a remodeling project, you are ten times more likely to do the same.

Take for example my father. He patched a crack in the plaster of the guest bedroom, promising to paint over it the next weekend. Seventeen years later the wall was still unpainted.

My cousin and her husband, who own a Victorian house in San Francisco, are another case in point. They made a list of ambitious renovation projects they hoped to accomplish within five years. In the eighth year of their five-year plan, after surviving crazed contractors, a drunken stonemason, earthquakes and a surprise pregnancy, they went to a twenty-year plan.

Although deeply involved in decorating since I was an infant, I was never very interested in remodeling until we moved into our bungalow. Now, thanks to HGTV, my wellspring of inspiration, the Internet and a host of motivational magazines, I am completely hooked. My husband jumped into the fray and is now as buggy as me.

Not everyone is supportive of what we are trying to do.

"Do you really need all these renovations?" My mother asked.

"Yes, Mother, we do and since you brought it up, you might as well know that we're installing a rotunda."

"A rotunda! You mean like the capitol rotunda in Washington, D.C.?"

"Sort of."

"Don't you think adding a second bathroom would be more practical than a rotunda, dear?"

"If you paid closer attention, Mother, you'd know that we're still remodeling bathroom number one. We couldn't possibly commit to a second bathroom. That would be ridiculous."

"I see. And putting a rotunda on your itty bitty house isn't ridiculous?"

"Mother, this argument would carry more weight if you hadn't put up with that unpainted plaster for seventeen years."

See, that's another side effect of renovator's bug, you yell at your mama.

There are people who have no interest in remodeling. I met one of them at a barbecue this summer. This woman claimed she and her husband are totally happy with their home. It needs no renovations of any kind. It is perfect. Instead of remodeling, she drinks.

Another group immune to renovator's bug is the wealthy. Can you see Prince Charles mitering his own crown moulding or Julia Roberts quibbling over granite countertops at Lowe's?

The only person sympathetic to our cause is our son Pete.

"We had a family home renovation last weekend," I confided recently.

"Great! Did you finally get that garage window in?"

"Are you kidding? That's not slated for installation until the fall of '05. We puttied!" I said proudly.

He learned long ago not to ask for details for fear of finding out we puttied something that should have been caulked, re-grouted or painted instead.

"What's going on with the bathroom fix-up?" He asked.

"I'm still trying to decide what wallpaper I want."

"Wallpaper? I thought you'd given up that idea after that awful experience you had with the..."

"Never mind!" I interrupted. "We'll get to the bathroom when we have time. For now, I'm more concerned about electrifying the front closet and building those bookshelves and installing a giant rotunda..."

He slipped out the back door while I was talking. Darn, I wanted to tell him about our scheme to build a brick fireplace to cover up those unsightly cracks in the living room plaster that have been there since the Allies stormed the beaches of Normandy.

Biographical Sketch - Mary Mendoza

Madcap Mary Mendoza, formerly known as Hurricane Mary, lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, son, three cats and 200,000 Sunset magazines.

Madcap's humor columns and feature stories have appeared in publications around the Northwest as well as online. She is the author of The Adventures of Madcap Mary, a collection of humorous stories. Madcap can be reached at mcmendoza@ispiral.com. Visit Madcap's site! http://www.madcapmary.com.