Today we said goodbye to Giddyland. Our house’s change, but we always look to those we cherish the most to call home no matter the address. The memories we created will grow in grandeur with each passing year, as will the tales we’ll tell of the epic days of J. and Mrs. Giddy. But, they’re now the past, as is, thankfully, the past year.
For now, we’re squatters in a luxury rental apartment located deep in the bowels of Coram,USA…and perhaps, if Christine has her way, we’ll once again soon be strapped to the chains of a mortgage till I’m nearly 90 fucking years old. No doubt owners of some over-priced condominium in need of an updated bathroom and new dryer. Good times await.
Tonight however, we reminisce about how Giddyland came to be. Truth is, it was an elaborate joke.
In 2004 Christine and I rented a deluxe bachelor pad in Bellport near the landfill. It was great, brand new build, fountained man-made lake in the center of the dwellings. If you needed anything fixed, a phone call brought a guy to repair whatever while you sat and watched football. Nice. But we felt we needed something more.
Amanda was living in Florida with her mom, so cheap Southwest tickets at the time took us down there or her up here every few weeks for a visit. But we knew once she graduated high school, she was going to come back to New York for college. So, we thought that it was best to create a more stable environment with several new tax benefits and return to the realm of home ownership. But, how can we do it by creating something ridiculous to go along with it?
Idea number one – “Let’s move and not tell Amanda”. Yea, on a Friday night after a dozen beers, we thought this was hysterical.
So, in order to put idea number one into play – we began searching for a house to buy. We saw three or four places; all were ok but I hate shopping and grew bored quickly. Christine, being our internet champion of 2004 had found one last open house on line while scouring the internets. A 1977 colonial nestled in the heart of beautiful downtown Coram. As we approached the house through the winding lanes of Coram, we saw the “open house” sign on the side of the road. As we approached it, it suddenly flopped over, like a dead sparrow dropped from the sky. Christine thought it was a sign from above. I thought it was a sign that fell over.
We were the last visitors to the open house, and I’m guessing the realtor saw our raggedy asses coming through the door and assumed us just a waste of time. “Here’s this lovely large house, with a gigantic pool, backyard and three bars. These two idiots can’t afford this, it’s the height of the market for fuck’s sakes.”
We buy the house. Bought a lot of the shit the previous owners didn’t want to move too. Some of that’s still here. Staying here for the next owner. I’m a financial genius!
But we still had to carry out the joke. The normal closing procedure and preparations took up a few months until we started moving in the first week of January 2005. Amanda was coming in the following week, so we had to have everything in and set to complete what we thought was one of the funniest surprises we could come up with.
A week goes by and I’ve picked the kid up at the airport for a nice visit. I tell her that before we go home (to what she thought was the apartment in Bellport) I have to stop to pick up a check from a client. As she’s been along with me on collection calls before, no big deal. Upon arriving in the driveway, I tell her to come in with me as it may be a few minutes. She reluctantly agrees, but would clearly have preferred to remain in the car.
As we approach the front door, Christine opens the door to Amanda’s obvious confusion. “What are you doing at Dad’s clients” was her first reaction. Took a few seconds for her to realize that she had a new home.
Her smile, surprise and laughter that night made the decision to buy the place worth it.
The memories that we’ve all made since have created quite a story, so as we close the final chapter, we simply say…