Mass marketing

Among Friday evening’s diversions was a stop at the Spring Home Show at the Meadowlands Exposition Center. American Consumer Shows claims the event is, “designed for homeowners in all stages of remodeling, landscaping and decorating their homes.”

Entering felt like the “perp walk” famous people endure on their way to jail, with reporters shouting questions. Like carnie barkers encouraging you to play a rigged game of chance, the lonely exhibitors tried to lure us into their booths.

Inside the main hall, we saw aisle after aisle of similar products. Roofing, siding, windows and decks. It was clear that the competitive advantage Trex® composite decking once enjoyed was being encroached upon by knock-offs. More surprising, perhaps, was the variety of companies offering gutter guards.

Only the Priele® Italian Design Bathroom booth held any appeal, so we touched every faucet and grabbed a card—the only exhibitor information that found its way into our home. The gentleman showing his wares remained helpfully close—but not too close.

Today we marched through Sears on the way into the mall. “Everything is the color of despair,” my husband remarked, looking around at the dingy, yellowing floors illuminated by harsh lighting. It felt apocalyptic in much the same way as the expo. The merchandise was listless and derivative. The choices: sad, but safe. The prominent color: beige.

“Is this all you’re left with if you don’t hire an architect,” I wondered? In addition to fresh ideas, the firm we’ve selected is giving us access to vendors and materials we’d never find via the mass market.

Another break in the wall

The e-mail came a week ago with 12 attachments. It was like a stack of colorful boxes under the tree on Christmas Eve. What would they contain? Like many a child pulling off the wrapping paper, chanting, “Let it be a Wii™! Let it be a Wii,” I clicked on each file with breathless anticipation.

The progress construction drawing set showed such intricacies as the ceiling framing, roof plan, door and window schedules, elevations, site plan, site work, footings and foundation, electrical and plumbing, even eve details. When I opened A-110.pdf and saw a rejected design for the bathroom and guest bedroom, I lost interest in the other drawings and shut down my laptop—and restarted my brain. My husband had the presence of mind to e-mail the needed feedback.

This Friday, we got another e-email from the architecture firm. Jimmy called me at work and I chatted while opening each of the 10 attachments. The building section looked way cool and one of the drawings included images of a man to help us see the scale and site lines of the rooms. Nice! Then I opened up the revised A-110.pdf and there is was again: the wrong bathroom; the wrong guest bedroom. There were still showing plans to fix what wasn’t broken.

I took a deep breath in order to suppress my inner bitch and explained to Jimmy that this lack of a remedy in the one drawing that interested us most made me feel as though his firm was ignoring our feedback. My husband replied via e-mail, “Maybe I’m a linear type of guy, but it’s difficult for me to focus on things like lighting when the walls aren’t right.”

I couldn’t agree more. Later that night, a revised floor plan arrived and it was pretty darn close. We used the handy dandy mark-up tool in Adobe® Acrobat® 8 Standard and requested a bit more fine-tuning, mostly un-improving areas where we like the current state better.

Soon we’ll be able to focus on the other details.