On every episode of every American TV show where a person or a couple is buying or renting a new house, there comes a moment when one or more of them will look straight into the camera or tell the broker, “I/We love to entertain. This kitchen won’t do. It has to be bigger.” This is often but not always followed by sentences like, “I should be able to see the children while stirring the pot or steaming broccoli. We must have stainless steel gadgets. There is no point to life without a four-door fridge with two windows for the pet leprechaun.”
I am okay with that. We all want to live in places that meet our needs and expectations. At their fundamental core, why are these shows popular? What makes them great television? Or at least compelling television? I’m not sure but while watching them, I too am fully invested in finding out which of their three options Catelyn and Corbin will go with finally. Will it be the apartment with a view of the ocean? The citadel with the mall? Maybe the two-bedroom fixer upper with space for a fishing trawler in the attic?
My only issue is with the word “entertain,” as in when they say they love to “entertain.” Really? Do you really, Catelyn and Corbin? Do we really belong to a world where people are so hospitable? All the time? And why “entertain?” Why would you assume that your guests are “entertained” by you? Do you switch into a jester’s outfit halfway through the meal and start juggling cacti? Or steam aforementioned broccoli while also doing a tightrope walk? Maybe you eat and spit fire while setting the table?
What if couples were more honest and said things like, “Actually we are pretty dull.” Or, “No one has ever laughed at my jokes.” Or, “I am incredibly boring, in fact. I make good food and that’s why people come over. Sometimes, I beg and they say yes out of pity.”
Now that I think will make for even more entertaining television. Truly compelling. House hunting served alongside a healthy dose of self-awareness.