[Congressional Record Volume 149, Number 106 (Thursday, July 17, 2003)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1499-E1501]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                                  HGTV

                                 ______
                                 

                        HON. JOHN J. DUNCAN, JR.

                              of tennessee

                    in the house of representatives

                        Wednesday, July 16, 2003

  Mr. DUNCAN. Mr. Speaker, I am very proud that Home and Garden 
Television (HGTV), one of the Nation's fastest growing networks, is 
headquartered in my hometown, Knoxville, Tennessee.
  HGTV is a really outstanding cable channel with a wide variety of 
programs.
  Unlike some of the trash that is shown on other networks, the 
programs on HGTV are positive and helpful and encourage people to 
improve their lives and their communities.
  Joshua Green, Editor of the Washington Monthly, has written a 
humorous but very complimentary article about HGTV in the July/August 
issue of his magazine.
  I would like to call this article to the attention of my colleagues 
and other readers of the Record.

                     [From the Washington Monthly]

     Home Sick; The Addictive Allure of Home and Garden Television

                           (By Joshua Green)

       Over the past two years, as the rest of the economy has 
     gradually tanked, one sector has stubbornly resisted: the 
     housing market. Despite layoffs, the weak dollar, the 
     moribund stock market, and all other manner of economic 
     calamity, house prices are climbing faster than George W. 
     Bush's negative rating in Iraq. In fact, economists credit 
     the housing market's continuing strength with keeping the 
     country out of recession. Much like the ``wealth effect'' 
     created by the late '90s stock boom, rising real-estate 
     prices have made Americans feel rich enough to keep on 
     spending amply, regardless of the overall economic climate. 
     So the booming housing market is surely welcome news to most 
     Americans--except those, like me, who

[[Page E1500]]

     would like to actually buy a house and are extraordinarily 
     piqued about this. If there were a Murphy's Law of Economic 
     Collapse, it would hold that as jobs disappear and wages 
     plummet, the price of your dream house will skyrocket.
       Most economists attribute this phenomenon to historically 
     low interest rates, which translate into extremely affordable 
     mortgages. I have a different theory. I blame HGTV--the Home 
     and Garden Television channel--one of the fastest-growing 
     stations on cable and a certifiable cult phenomenon among 
     many of my peers.
       For the uninitiated, HGTV is one of those niche cable 
     stations we all heard so much about back in the early '90s 
     that sounded preposterous at the time--who'd watch round-the-
     clock gardening, remodeling, and house-hunting tips?--but 
     seems perfectly reasonable today alongside the dozens of 
     specialty channels devoted to cooking, pets, sci-fi, soaps, 
     books, and--on my cable system--one click below the NASA 
     channel, which on weekends broadcasts continuous footage of 
     the earth rotating. (Really.) Since its 1994 launch, HGTV has 
     grown from a tiny startup to a cable colossus that reaches 
     nearly 80 million households in the United States alone, 
     broadcasts its programs to viewers as far away as Latvia and 
     Brunei, and is even available to U.S. service personnel in 
     175 countries and on board Navy ships. The idea of rugged 
     naval aviators, fresh from sorties over Iraq or Afghanistan, 
     choosing to unwind before Home and Garden Television's design 
     and decorating tips is testament to the strange power this 
     channel holds over its viewers.


                       the home-shopping network

       At first blush, HGTV is a benign--even an edifying--form of 
     entertainment that's centered on a can-do ethos for the 
     current or expectant homeowner. Instead of patrician 
     decorating tips, HGTV shows like ``Weekend Warriors'' 
     champion a Calvinist work ethic in which determined 
     homeowners charge headlong into demanding-but-reasonably-
     priced projects that typically leave them spent, but never 
     broke, and with a spectacular new veranda or stunning 
     hardwood floors to show for their efforts. There are shows 
     about improving your home's appearance (``Curb Appeal''), 
     tending to your home's yard (``Landscapers' Challenge''), 
     decorating your home cheaply (``Design on a Dime'') or even 
     more cheaply (``Designing Cents''), home-centric extreme-
     sports knockoffs (``Winter Gardener,'' ``Extreme Homes'') and 
     others, like ``Help Around the House,'' that extol the life-
     enhancing practicalities of previously mundane tasks like 
     caulking or grout work.
       Many HGTV shows feature a subtle, battle-of-the-sexes 
     leitmotif that adds to the intrigue, while reinforcing and 
     pandering to its audience's prejudices in a way that 
     surely boosts viewership. On the popular ``Designing for 
     the Sexes,'' most men are of the hapless variety, puzzled 
     as to why their wife is upset over the moose head they'd 
     like to mount over the dining room table; most women 
     display an alarming fondness for pink chenilles or French 
     country style of doilies. Viewers therefore identify 
     quickly, privately relieved to discover that their own 
     situation isn't nearly as outlandish as they'd first 
     imagined. They receive further encouragement from the 
     show's denouement, which invariably features a designer or 
     decorator of Christ-like patience who steps in to mollify 
     the warring factions by curbing even the tackiest excesses 
     and delivering a touch of class and taste that both can 
     live with. This men-are-from-Mars-women-are-from-Venus 
     format presents itself merely as decorating help. But the 
     effect upon the addled participants--and viewers, too--is 
     not unlike that of a good marriage counselor, convincing 
     couples that any problem can be overcome, I believe it is 
     no coincidence that HGTV is the one channel my fiancee and 
     I can agree on. It accomplishes a feat previously thought 
     to be impossible, bridging the chasm between ``Oprah'' and 
     ``SportsCenter.''
       Like any 24-hour-a-day cable station, not all of HGTV's 
     programming is what one would consider to be of Emmy Award-
     winning caliber. I could do without a show called ``Simply 
     Quilts.'' Certain others likewise seem best suited to the wee 
     hours of the morning, such as ``Flea Market Finds with the 
     Kovels'' (which could have been titled ``Shopping for Junk 
     with Old People'') and ``Subterraneans,'' a recent promo for 
     which encouraged viewers to tune in and ``meet unique people 
     who make their home below the earth.''
       But one show--the station's flagship--renders these others 
     mere trivialities. ``House Hunters'' is the source of my own 
     HGTV addiction and, the latest Nielsen ratings suggest, many 
     others' as well. It is HGTV's highest-rated show--and, I'm 
     convinced, the clue to the network's appeal.
       The show's premise is a simple one. In each episode, a 
     friendly realtor helpfully accompanies a pair of prospective 
     homebuyers as they shop for a house or condominium. Cameras 
     follow them from room to room, allowing the viewer to examine 
     the various properties in what amounts to a vicarious trial 
     run for the potential homebuyer. The first time I tuned in, a 
     young newlywed couple wanted to move out of their cramped 
     apartment and buy their first home but clearly had no idea 
     what they were doing. These circumstances were reassuringly 
     similar to my own. I watched with growing appreciation as the 
     realtor listened patiently to their needs and then drove them 
     to one beautiful house after another. If a house was too 
     small, the realtor would smile and show them a larger one. If 
     a house lacked a pool, the realtor would find them one that 
     also had a jacuzzi. If a house was on a noisy street, the 
     realtor would show them one in an area so remote it probably 
     had not yet been mapped. And every visit was a leisurely, 
     pressure-free stroll that seemed not only easy, but fun.
       The young couple soon found a perfect home, conferred 
     briefly with the realtor, and decided to place a bid on it. 
     ``House Hunters'' cut to commercial. Despite having known 
     them for just 22 minutes or so, I was transfixed, and found 
     myself rooting vigorously for their bid to be accepted. When 
     the show returned, our prayers--theirs and mine--were 
     answered. As the couple sat emotionlessly in their worn 
     rental, the phone rang. It was their realtor, with good news! 
     I was privately impressed that HGTV had a camera crew on hand 
     to document this happy occasion. The show ended by flashing 
     forward several months to show the couple in joyously 
     possession of their new home. I stole a glance at my 
     fiancee--who looked exactly as she had at the end of 
     Titanic--and immediately began looking forward to my own 
     home-buying experience.


                           No Chase Like Home

       It did not dawn on me until after I'd embarked on my own 
     search for a house how wildly fictional this portrayal had 
     been. But I quickly discovered that it was fundamentally 
     dishonest on several levels and bore no resemblance at all to 
     my own night-marish experience.
       To begin with, ``House Hunters'' promotes the fantasy that 
     charming, spacious, reasonably priced homes are plentiful 
     and always available in even the most desirable 
     neighborhoods. Perhaps this is true in some distant corner 
     of North Dakota where sprawl and gentrification have not 
     yet driven up prices. but it is most certainly not the 
     case in Washington, D.C., where I live, or in any 
     surrounding suburb that I've been able to locate.
       This shortage gives rise to another phenomenon that ``House 
     Hunters'' does not acknowledge--the ``open house.'' These are 
     the overly brief weekend showings in which sellers open their 
     homes to potential buyers--but which in today's hot real 
     estate market quickly come to resemble cattle calls of 
     anxious couples who strenuously avoid making eye contact with 
     you as they rush around sizing up the house and potential 
     competitors for it. Nor does ``House Hunters'' accurately 
     depict the mood and temperament of these people, who tend to 
     look wild-eyed and tormented and would probably arouse 
     concern among security personnel if transported to any other 
     setting. In the open houses I've experienced, the naifs who 
     appear on ``House Hunters'' would be tramped and devoured 
     like the herd weaklings in a pack of wildebeest on the 
     Discovery Channel.
       After awhile, once we had acclimated to these laws of the 
     jungle, my fiancee and I found a cozy brick rowhouse that 
     seemed perfect. As we elbowed past the other prospective 
     buyers and walked from room to room, I felt that small shiver 
     of excitement I had seemed to detect when couples on ``House 
     Hunters'' had finally come upon the home they would buy. That 
     evening we filled out a mountain of paper-work at our 
     realtor's and submitted our bid. The next day I blew off work 
     and sat expectantly by the phone about to be educated in yet 
     another way in which ``House Hunters'' differs from reality. 
     By this point I had become an avid fan of the show, but it 
     had still never occurred to me that each episode's happy 
     ending might not mirror reality. When my phone rang, I leapt 
     for it. It was my realtor, who informed me that we had not 
     gotten the house--that in fact 22 others had bid on it and 
     driven the sale price more than $100,000 above what 
     originally had been asked.
       Soon after, I became well acquainted with the concept of 
     the escalation clause, the inspections waiver, the failed 
     bid, and generally competing like gladiators for any property 
     deemed livable and available. I also realized that ``House 
     Hunters'' is totally staged--the couple always gets the house 
     they want, and the show's producers are probably wise to 
     steer clear of markets like Washington, D.C., which would 
     terrify viewers anyway and kill their ratings. I angrily 
     swore off HGTV and the cheap fantasy it peddled, and 
     sheepishly sought out my copy of Home Buying for Dummies.


                    Rooting for the Home-buying team

       Yet, strangely, life without HGTV did not improve--at least 
     not for the six days that I held out against watching it. 
     Houses remained overpriced, realtors unscrupulous, buyers 
     frenzied, and I was no closer to escaping my one-bedroom. I 
     found myself longing for familiar comforts. In the end, the 
     siren call of reasonably priced homes and pressure-free 
     bidding that always has a fairy-tale ending proved too 
     powerful to resist. I cracked a beer and submitted to the 
     evening's ``House Hunters.''
       Only then did I truly understand the lure of HGTV--of what 
     it is that grips me, and my addict-friends, and all those 
     naval aviators overseas who are stressing about the 
     availability of three-bedroom colonials in neighborhoods with 
     decent schools. It's not the reality television that HGTV 
     pretends to be, but an escape from our own real-estate 
     reality into a soothing world where things are different and 
     better; a place to retreat to after those greedy sellers pass 
     on your bid, where one will always find sustenance and

[[Page E1501]]

     encouragement; it's what excites people to keep marching out 
     and buying new homes.
       My story has a happy ending, though not the type you're 
     likely to see on HGTV. Several weeks after our initial bid 
     fell through (it seemed like years) our excellent realtor 
     Vince--who, incidentally, could eat the realtors on ``House 
     Hunters'' for breakfast--found us the perfect home and 
     shrewdly snuck us in before the open house, preempting a 
     bidding war by submitting a take-it-or-leave-it offer that 
     cut out the competition. (I expect Vince will be surprised to 
     learn he's been nominated for a Congressional Medal of 
     Honor.)
       Impending homeownership has brought with it complicated new 
     challenges, so I've turned to my wellspring of wisdom for 
     guidance. I now possess a master gardener's understanding of 
     landscaping, and I'm confident that I can parry most of the 
     feminine-looking accoutrements with which my fiancee seems 
     intent upon decorating our new home. In fact, there's only 
     one area where I've come up empty. I've searched in vain for 
     a show called ``Mortgage Hunters,'' but none seems to exist--
     perhaps there are aspects of home buying that even HGTV can't 
     spin into fantasy.

                          ____________________