I call them "Big Swollen Mutant Homes," and unfortunately the company I work for, which shall be nameless, is one of the ones covering the US with these monstrosities. (Though I believe my division will be going into townhomes, which at least have inherent design restrictions.) Anyway, I can't stand these "Dallas-Style" homes; they're all facade and huge, echoey rooms that are built to fit the ridiculously gigantic furniture (have you seen the styles in beds these days? They make the king of France's bed in Versailles look like camp cots) and, I guess, to accomodate the average American's increased fleshly bulk.

We have some lovely examples of midcentury modern houses in my area. Unfortunately the classic streamlined look is not in vogue -- apparently there's no place to put the Roman spa tub and the 40-inch tv -- so they are being torn down and replaced by these ridiculous monster homes that fill the entire lot. Across the street from me is an entire neighborhood of little fifties-era houses, 2 or 3 BR 1 BTH, that are being sold for huge dollar amounts to people who tear them down and put up a mutant house. It's sad.

I am in the odd position of having the smallest house and the largest lot on the block, a quirk of the street curvature.

More typical on my street is the 1300-square-foot house on the 8500-square-foot lot, which seems fairly normal for post-WWII construction. We are in what the city calls an Urban Conservation District, which is somewhere below Historic in its strictness but which insists on maintaining the original front lines: you can rebuild, but you cannot extend beyond the front line of the original house, nor can you add an additional story. This makes McMansions rather difficult, at least for this neighborhood.

Bauhaus? In Oklahoma? As my 19 year old daughter would say, ewwwh.

Looks more like a fire station to me.