I Have A Dream Home

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for ambition in the history of our nation.

22 years ago, a great Network, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, created the concept of the Dream Home. This momentous sweepstakes came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Americans who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But 22 years later, this American is still not free. 22 years later, the life of this American is still sadly crippled by the manacles of poor design and the chains of not being a homeowner. 22 years later, I live on a lonely island of poverty in a midst of a cast ocean of material prosperity. 22 years later, I am still languished in the corners of the blogosphere and find myself an exile in my own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense I've come to this site to cash a check. Last year, when the architects of the sweepstakes wrote the magnificent words of the terms and conditions, they were signing a promissory note to which I was to fall heir. This note was a promise that I would be guaranteed $250,000 cash from Quicken Loans, an all-new Honda Accord, and a 4-bedroom 3.5-bathroom waterfront retreat in Gig Harbor, Washington. It is obvious today that Scripps has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as I am concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Scripps has given me a bad check, a check which has come back marked with insufficient funds.

But I refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. I refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity in this Network. And so I've come to cash this check, a check that will give to me $250,000 cash from Quicken Loans, a redesigned 2019 Honda Pilot Elite, and a 4-bedroom, 3.5-bathroom mountain retreat in Whitefish, Montana.

I have also come to this site to remind the Network of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of the Dream Home. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of false promises and to the sunlit path of an 'ambush-style' visit. Now is the time to lift me from the quicksands of tenantship to the solid rock of home ownership. Now is the time to make the Dream Home a reality for me.

It would be fatal for the Network to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of my legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of exquisite interior design and breathtaking views of Whitefish lake. 2019 is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that I needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awaking if the Network returns to business as usual. There will be no rest nor tranquility until I am granted my Dream Home. The whirlwind of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of the blogosphere until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something I say as a reminder to myself, who stands on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of the Dream Home. In the process of gaining my rightful place, I must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. I must not satisfy my thirst for my dream by drinking from the cup of thievery and fraud. I must conduct my quest on the high plane of dignity and discipline. Again and again, I must visit hgtv.com and diynetwork.com and submit my two entries. The marvelous fervor which has engulfed me must not lead to a distrust of the Network or Brian Patrick Flynn, for they will come to realize that their destiny is inextricably bound to mine. I cannot walk alone.

As I enter, I must make the pledge that I shall always look ahead. I cannot turn back. There are those who are asking "When will you be satisfied?" Never. I can never be satisfied until the Dream Home in Whitefish, Montana is mine. I can never be satisfied as long as that home, nestled in the trees of Big Mountain cannot be filled with my own possessions. I cannot be satisfied as long as my basic mobility is from one rented apartment to a larger one. I cannot be satisfied as long as I cannot shred the slopes of Whitefish Mountain Resort. No, no I am not satisfied and will not be satisfied until the Dream Home is given to me.

I am not unmindful that some of you have aspirations for the Dream Home like myself. Some of you have been battered by the storms of false hope and staggered by the winds of disappointment. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. In 2020, continue to get your two entries in daily. Go back to hgtv.com, and go back to diynetwork.com knowing that your situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you, my readers, so even though I face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day, I will rise up and live out the true meaning of rest and relaxation in my rustic mountain retreat.

I have a dream that one day on the mountains of Montana, I will be able to sit down with my guests around an industrial modern table in my stylish dining room.

I have a dream that one day even my dresser, a space sweltering with the heat of disarray, will be transformed into a spacious walk-in closet painted with tones of blue and white.

I have a dream that one day I will be judged not by the content of my character, but by the Western flavor of my chic powder room.

I have a dream that one day in Montana, with its blistering winters, friends will be able to join hands around the handsome stone fireplace of my expansive outdoor patio.

I have a dream that one day every wall shall be painted, every space shall be made inviting, the old places will be made modern, and the dull places will be made elegant, and the glory of the Dream Home shall be delivered, and all shall witness it together.

This is my hope. This is the faith I go back to work with. With this faith, I will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, I will be able to transform the jangling discords of my current residence into a beautiful symphony of sleek design. With this faith, I will be able to work, to pray, to struggle, knowing that I will one day be granted my Dream Home.

This will be the day, this will be the day when I will be able to sing with new meaning: “My country, ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!”

And if the Network is to be a great network, this must become true. So let my dream be heard by the fine men and women at Scripps. Let my dream be heard by the people at Lumber Liquidators. Let my dream be heard by the folks at Wayfair. Let my dream be heard by the reps at Belgard, Cabinets To Go, and Delta. But not only that: Let my dream by heard by Sherwin Williams. Let my dream be heard by Honda. Let my dream be heard by Rocket Mortgage. Let my dream be heard by every sponsor of the HGTV Dream Home 2019 Sweepstakes.

And when this happens, and when we allow my dream to be heard in every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to actualize that day when I will be able to sit back in my Scandinavian style cedar hot tub and sing the words "Home at last! Home at last! Thank Scripps Almighty, I am home at last!"

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