The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

28 June 2004

Stories behind these walls

Around the corner from me is a Talking House.

No, really. I pulled in closer to see what was going on, and there was a sign directing me to tune the AM radio to 1610 kHz. And in one of those digitally-recorded voices that sounds just as garbled over the phone, up pops a loop explaining the virtues of this house, why you should drop everything and buy it now, and the person you should call should you want to do so.

It's a nice place, and I'm sure the eventual buyer will enjoy having bought into this neighborhood for a price in the low, low six figures, but for some reason this technique put me off, perhaps because the infinitesimal power output of the tiny transmitter virtually guarantees that you'll miss part of the pitch before you get out of range, which means that if you're at all curious you'll have to double back toward the house, which strikes me as less intrusive than having a lasso catch you as you walk away, but not much.

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