Creating a Monster 

Today we are interviewing Harold “Bud” Peabody, president of the Association of Super-Size Houses and Ostentatious Living Environments. Bud has been a vociferous advocate for the monster houses that are increasingly dominating various neighborhoods all along the Wasatch Front.

At a recent meeting of the Millcreek Township Planning Commission, which was addressing the mania for super-size houses, Mr. Peabody came dressed as huge house. When we got together last Saturday morning at Einstein’s at the Olympus Hills shopping center, Mr. Peabody was encumbered by the same house, though between the commission meeting and our interview, he had added two extra wings, an extra floor and a kitchen nook to his ensemble.

Our interview was delayed while we waited for demolition experts to arrive at the scene to tear down one of the extra wings and remove part of his roof (Mr. Peabody sustained minor injuries to his head in the process) so he could enter the bagel emporium and join us for coffee.

Deep End: How do you answer critics who say monster houses are despoiling the environment?

Bud Peabody: We have a God-given right to magnify our presence.

DE: Do you care what the neighbors think?

BP: They also have a right to magnify their presence.

DE: What if they build houses bigger than yours?

BP: Easy. We will build even bigger. But that never happens. The advantage we have over most folks is that the members of our association are not only deficient in the good-taste department, we also are totally devoid of any aesthetic sensibility. We are proud of our huge, ugly and ostentatious houses. If you are searching for a word that sums up everything we are trying to accomplish, it would be “vulgar.” In fact, I wanted to include vulgar in the name of our association, but it would have screwed up our nifty acronym.

DE: You must be aware that some people wonder how you are able to build your vulgar houses so quickly.

BP: If you are implying that we use size-enhancing means to add bulk to our residence, I’ll say right here and now that neither I nor other members of our association have injected our houses with steroids.

DE: There are reports that building inspectors detected residues of primobloatalene in the sheet rock.

BP: If that happened, and I’m not saying it did, it was because I was young, naive and stupid at the time.

DE: It sounds like you are changing your story, Mr. Peabody.

BP: I’m just saying, it was loosey-goosey last year when I built my house up in the cove.

DE: What about the photos of your cousin from Sandy applying a mysterious substance to the sheetrock, wall studs, floor joists and roof trusses during the construction phase?

BP (starting to sweat profusely): What about it?

DE: Here are photos taken just one day after your cousin from Sandy treated the sheet rock, joists and studs, and floor joists. Everything is bigger and bulkier. (At this point, Peabody started chewing on his lip as he stared at the incriminating photos. Several minutes passed until he spoke.)

BP: OK, OK, I’ll come clean. All I wanted was a big house, and I didn’t want to wait around. Then my cousin from Sandy showed up with these paint cans filled with “bloat,” which I guess was the street name for what I now know is primobloataline. I didn’t want to ask questions, because suddenly my house was swelling up faster than my aunt Bernice’s edema. Next thing I get greedy and start slopping the bloat on everything.
Then some splashes on to Speedy, my Chihuahua, and holy moly! Speedy gets as big as a horse!

DE: Poor Speedy.

BP: Huh? No, Speedy thought it was great. Now, just like my house, he’s the biggest dog on the block. I was thinking about breeding giant Chihuahuas until Speedy got so big we had to take him, up to Kamas and release him into the wild. Last we saw him he was chasing a bull moose up a canyon.

DE: Other than Speedy, do you have any other regrets?

BP: Not a one. Actually, we’ve got some nice side-effects from the bloat, with the house growing these cheesy towers, and turrets and gables, increasing the vulgarity factor. You ought to drop by and take a look some time.