Living in the lap of luxury

So it has been a while since I have been a true apartment dweller, but during a couple of company relocation packages and short term work contracts over the last few years I have found myself staying in a few. In the suburbs, they are all pretty much the same. Same beige carpet. Same eggshell walls. Same pretentious names.

Same signs outside inviting you to "live in luxury."

Yet when you check them out, there are no steam showers, no sub zero refrigerators, no wine cellars. Certainly nice enough, but no real luxury to be found. I guess the luxury label goes along with all the other misnamed things like the "lakes" that are really retaining ponds and the "town homes" that are really suburban dwellings.

But if I stop and think about it, I suppose there is luxury in simply having a roof over my head, something that I am not often conscious of in my narrow and thoroughly American experience. There is also the luxury of waking up safe and dry and knowing where my next meal is coming from. The luxury of my two feet which carry me outside, closing the door on beige and eggshell, passing the pond, on the way to my car. The luxury of a car that starts, a full tank of gas, a GPS system, and the endless possibilities for a day.

Probably not what the banner at the entrance to the apartment complex is advertising, but luxury living all the same.