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Little Pink Houses
I had a friend in my last office. We smoked cigarettes together and commented on the receptionists, went for bbq now and then, drinks often and even played on the office softball team. In and amongst all of this hilarity, we had a good idea or two.
One afternoon, when we should have been doing something important regarding a shopping mall renovation, we got to talking about pink houses. Yeah. Hot Shit Mellencamp. Or Cougar. Or Cougar Melencamp. I grew up in a pink house, as it turns out.
Our musings culminated in the theory that all pink houses were marked as such due to a fall from grace. The house that I grew up in had, in fact undergone a reform early in my extended stay.
You see, the theory states that, the pink houses of Melencamp were pink due to some husbandly misstep. The man in that house has done something wrong.
Slept with the baby sitter.
Bought a camper. a big one.
Sold the car in an elaborate con game.
Kept another family in Pittsburgh.
Got blasted at his in-laws family Christmas, shat in the flower beds and finally gave that self righteous father of yours the belt right in the mouth like he’s been asking for all these years.
Ahem.
Anyway, I have since gained information that my grandfather was one of these men. Slept with his receptionist. Really really…really small town. And, coincidentally enough, ended up as her inlaw of sorts when my father married my mother. Torrid stuff, this. And for it all, he got a pink house. The house he built with his father. And it got pink.
To my father’s good credit, the house went to it’s more suitable, and honorable grey as soon as my mother could get the chance and it’s remained in that bespoke suit to this day. Good on ya, Pops.
So, I’ll be keeping my third eye open for pink houses. Because they make me wonder just what it was that did that poor sap in.
Here’s a pink house in Holland. My guess is that this guy just wouldn’t stop gambling.
http://goeurope.about.com/od/leiden/ig/leiden-pictures/Leiden-11.htm
