Saturday, February 26, 2005

Surburban Home Show Hell

Mrs. Pratt and I have owned our suburban PrattCave for about four years now. Occasionally my inner Ward Cleaver kicks in,and I get giddy with events like the one we attended this afternoon: The Suburban Home and Garden Show.

We just picked the absolutely worst time to attend this trade show which featured people selling new windows,new siding,new landscaping, hot tubs, painting, faux painting, faux siding, and faux fauxing.

Due to the little dose of winter we had a few days ago the total number of people cramming the aisles of the convention center were only slightly under kajillion.

We stopped at one booth-kitchen counter tops-Mrs. Pratt was oohing and ah-ing over the different patterns.Suddenly her revelry was interrupted.

"Arrrrrre you innerested in zis ?" If I had closed my eyes I would have sworn the voice was Arnold Schwarzenegger...only the caricature of Arnold that's done in the Clutch Cargo style on the Conan O Brien show.

"It's unbelllllieeeeeeeeable." I opened my eyes and saw a very large elderly woman with red curly hair and a glass eye. The voice was coming from her. I should have kept my eyes shut.

"veeee vill send you our caaaaaaatalogggg" All i kept thinking was if I could get her to say 'Cal-i- for-ni-a"

We ran from that booth and meandered past other interesting pitches...
Build a Log Home! Build a Dome Home! Build an Underground Home! Build a Log Dome Home Underground!

Now some of the people at the booths if you stopped in front of them were too busy talking to each other than offering any assistance. We did have an interest in finding someone to finish our basement but Dude#1 and Dude#2 were too busy discussing who had the worse hangover from the night before.

All through the home show we encountered people with 2 or 3 of those rubber brooms that are the current rage of infomercials. Of course people were careless as they were holding their brooms over their shoulder.There was more eye poking than a Three Stooges Film Festival.

Another huge crowd was mesmerized by a guy with a folding ladder.This ladder could be folded and unfolded eighteen different ways. As we walked by Mrs. Pratt says in a loud voice "AREN'T LADDERS AMAZING?" I responded with "OUT OF MY WAY! LET'S BUY 4 RUBBER BROOMS!"

Yet for being a home show we were noticing a lot of booths that really had nothing to do with improving your home...Time Shares? Foot Massagers? Cans of Chowder?Then we noticed that the pitches for the geegaws were starting to resemble the kiosk gauntlet at the mall. ARRRGH! Glowing art pens and Your Child's Name in a Book booths.Look out! More rubber broom salesmen.What? Lotion guys? Here? Quick! Run! To the Exits!

We came to one vendor with garden stauary and not one Lawn Gnome was to be found. I still have to glue the head back on Horace.As I was looking for perhaps a stone bunny I heard "It's Perfect!"

Uh Oh.

Mrs. Pratt was standing in front of a four foot wooden lighthouse complete with flashing light.

Mrs. Pratt:"This will be perfect for the front yard."

I got visions of Mrs. Kravitz, our nosy neighbor, having a slight case of cerebral hemmorage over that.

Mrs. Pratt:"Well.... maybe later this year." whew. Dodged that one....for now.

We had half heartedly decided not to stick around to see special guest Frank from Trading Spaces. And trudged out of the hall. I apologized to Mrs. Pratt for wasting her afternoon.

"Let's go home." she said. "And never again to the home show."


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