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Volume 3, Issue 19
September 13 - September 26, 2001
One Last Thing
Andrew Wells
I LOATHE A PARADE
MY NEAR-DEATH
EXPERIENCE AND THE
PARADE OF HOMES
I couldn't write about the Parade of Homes. The endeavor
was hopeless because touring this display of model trophy homes for Tech Center execs in suburban
Parker aroused within me the sort
of painkilling endorphins, bile and foamy
spittle that usually accompanies my viewing
of "The O'Reilly Factor." (Like there
has ever been a White House cabinet session
where a cigar chomping, yardarm-shouldered
general slams a hammy fist to
the table, yelling, "Goddammit! What the
Sam Hell are you civilian Twinkies thinking?!
We've got to consider the O'Reilly
Factor!!") The Parade, in its simpering
Ovaltine and Valium quaffing, golden
retriever walking suburbanity, strickened
me with paralyzing disgust. Out of sheer
frustration, I thought the best course
would be an aromatherapy session.
Maybe I could unwind enough to break
down the writer's block. I drew a hot bath
and I'll admit that, in my red haze of
anger, I wasn't thinking clearly. Applying
the Powell Doctrine of Overwhelming
Force to vanquish my discontent, I
chucked six Herbal Serenity and eight
Soothing Citrus bath bombs into the
scalding water. Within a minute, I passed
out, gagging on concentrated fumes of
grapefruit zest and lavender blossom.
I was covering the 2001 Parade of
Homes! I was as giddy as if I had drank a
triple skinny Starbucks mocha (okay,
color me cranberry, I did indulge). But
this was understandable. This magnificent
display of the latest in home design
and interior decoration in historic Parker
would be a real treat. (And, as a mother of
two bundles of joy who sometimes unravel
me, this also meant an afternoon all for
myself.)
Pampered the minute I stepped out of my
2000 Mercedes M-Class, I was chauffeured
in a golf cart by a cheerful young
man in tennis whites to the entrance of
the Parade. The development is called
Spirit Gulch, which is really neat. There's
something spiritual about a name like
that. I could just imagine powerwalking
along trails, with songbirds atwitter;
getting back in touch, renewing, simplifying.
Did you know that in Spirit Gulch there
are three miles of nature trails, such as
Last Watch Trail, running alongside
Sulpher Gulch? I didn't know there were
so many gulches around there. It's fun to
learn and have fun at the same time. I like
the word 'gulch'. It sounds real old-timey.
Who wouldn't want to mosey on
over to Sulpher Gulch, hunker down and
pop a celery root sodey pop?
Count me in, partner!
Good times.
I asked Mary Chedsey, of Sunshine
Master Builders, which is developing
Spirit Gulch, what wildlife is native to
rural Douglas County.
"Certainly all the natural stuff, I don't
know, is out there," Chedsey said. "Deer.
Are you asking if we moved them or
what? Birds, aviary. There's a lot in that
environment in beautiful, natural things
that one needs to appreciate."
And there's plenty of beautiful, natural
things inside those sumptuous residences,
like the hardwood flooring! The Prairie
Hawk Home's long leaf pine flooring was
salvaged from real Army barracks in
Georgia. I could just imagine, having
watched movies and television, all the
wacky high jinks the enlisted men pulled
on the Sarge upon those planks. The
Brazilian cherry hardwood flooring at the
Avalon home also reminds us of the beauty
of nature as we step all over it.
Speaking of Avalon, isn't that a great
David Gray song? He worked so hard for
success and now VH-1 has given it to
him! I worry about his head bobbing
though. My youngest, Cassidy, does that,
mostly against our walls. We're seeing a
specialist soon, but in the meantime, we
just tell friends that she's dancing!
Even the garages have options in floor
coverings. After all, who wants dusty ol'
concrete? According to its literature,
Ultra Surface is a polyurethane floor covering
that is unaffected by 24 hour
immersion in motor oil, brake fluid,
urine, blood, xylene, whiskey and sulfuric
acid. That's peace of mind, knowing
how Wendell, my husband, and his poker
games can get.
Maybe the JaDecor wall decor in one
home's bathroom would help Cassidy.
The brochure in my goody bag said that
JaDecor wall covering is made of soft
stuff like "cotton, plant fibers, cellulose
and minerals." It's applied to the wall
with a trowel and looks like the newspaper pulp Braley, my oldest, whips up in
the blender, only it's kind of sparkly.
JaDecor has been popular in Europe,
which means that it's real sophisticated.
Not that everything in Europe is classy.
Like what Camilla Parker-Bowles did to
Diana. That makes me so mad! Camilla
was out feeding finger sandwiches to
Charles among fancy hedges and all
Diana could do was sob in gorgeous
dresses. I was so crushed when Diana
died that I bought two Franklin Mint
Diana dolls shown in Parade magazine.
With those purchases, I got a sense of closure,
as well as the High Fashion Red
Dress Ensemble at special low price.
I liked the bathrooms at many of Parade
houses because they are so luxurious and
high-tech in an organic way. I don't know
what that means. One master bathroom
featured a tub with a television installed
by the water line. This normally means
certain death, but apparently...
"It's not your time to go!"
"I'm not dead yet."
"Here, he says he's not dead," said the
second paramedic, whose nametag read
"Mel."
"You saved my life!" I exclaimed.
"I'll say," said the first EMT, Bob, yanking
off his latex gloves.
"What happened?" I asked Bob.
"You were asphyxiated by noxious
clouds of botanical extracts and then your
heart stopped."
"Your neighbors reported the smell," Mel
said. "We got here just in time to resuscitate
you."
"With defibrillator paddles?" I asked.
"No, we checked the health insurance
card in your wallet and figured you
couldn't afford it," Bob said. "So we
dropped your TV into the tub with you
and hoped for the best."
"You still owe us money for the time and
labor," Mel said. "You do have $500
handy, don't you?"
"I ... I ... well," I said, stammering naked
in odorous water.
"It's not your time to go!"
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