Suburban Hell & Horror Movies

Have you ever seen the movie Suburbia?

My life is nothing like that. We do live in suburban hell though. Don't get me wrong. I love my neighbors (really love them, possibly to an unhealthy degree) I love my house, even though it's the smaller, suburban version of that one from Money Pit. It looked great when we bought it, but a year later the plumbing had been replaced, (from every fixture all the way out the the main sewer line) the AC quit working, the furnace blew up, (kind of literally, there was fire and smoke and everything) the bay windows had to be replaced, (they wouldn't close, which was an issue when it was 120 degrees out) the deck was sinking, the wiring turned out to be all backwards, (or downright scary) fuses in the fuse box were blowing, (yea, fuse box) and I found out that if I didn't pay to have a main joist sistered I might actually fall through the floor.

That's going to be me someday

(That last is a lie. I probably wouldn't have fallen through the floor, but it would have started to sag, noticeably, and well.... let's just not think about that any further)

So, I love my house, when it's not trying to kill me, I love our neighbors, our neighborhood is ok, and the area could be a lot worse. So why then do I insist on referring to it as suburban hell?  A main concept of punk rock, at least my generation of punk rock, I have no idea what's going on now in punk rock, is a hatred of conformity & uniformity. Why should we all look alike? Act alike? Why should I be like someone says I'm "supposed" to be? Why should I care what you think?  and why do all these other sheep blindly follow wherever the trends go?

In our neighborhood all the houses look alike. So much so that after 3yrs I sometimes still pull into my neighbors driveway accidentally. The first week I told my husband he could never come home drunk. He very defensively demanded to know why, and iI told him it was because he'd never find our damn house. They are postage stamp, levittown houses, on postage stamp equally partitioned yards, each with it's matching 5ft chain link fence, and it's 2 car driveway, all identical inside and out. They were built on what used to be a farm. So you can stand on our back deck, and look down the street one way, and as far as the eye can see is matching backyards, with matching fences, on matching plots of land.  It's the heart of uniformity, the feel is enough to make my inner punk rocker puke.

Now, I said one direction as far as the eye can see is matching houses. The other direction is slightly more interesting.  The other direction is an old, closed, rock quarry on a very large plot of land. The old wooden buildings are still there, as is the big fucking hole in the ground. (several miles deep, mostly filled with water.)

...and on a night very like tonight exactly ten years ago today the bodies of 5 drunken sex crazed teenagers were all found inside, brutally murdered with a chainsaw....

This is actually my favorite part. My husband and I have decided this would be an absolutely awesome place to film a horror movie. We've got a plot all worked out too. (teenagers come to get drunk, and have sex and get murdered by a psycho. Could it be any better?)   All we need to do now is convince the guy who runs the place.  Somehow though I think the 90 year old, large firearm toting, man who runs the place is going to look at us questioningly when we ask if we can bring in a film crew, a bunch of teenagers, beer, music, a chainsaw and a mask.  I mean, it seems innocent enough, but you know how the older generation can be.

So, if I insist on referring to it as Suburban Hell (which I do, in daily life) why did we choose to buy here? Because, we did choose to buy here, it wasn't like there was no choice in the matter. My husband is forever reminding me it was my choice. This is the house I wanted.  Well, in truth, it was cheap.  It was in our price range, close enough to his work, and had more space then all the other houses we looked at. Plus, it appeared to need no immediate work. Which was appealing when I was 7 months pregnant.

So, it's sinking, and the school district is horrible, and our police officers are basically unsupervised vigilantes, and there's a big giant empty rock quarry perfect for hiding bodies in, (wait, that's a plus, not a minus) I love my neighbors. I love my house, even though it gives me fits. I love not renting, and I love not having to share walls with anyone. I love it. Even if one day I'm sure to fall through and get stuck in the floor, I still love it.