If I Were a Rich Man....

As a kid, I was just as excited as an Asian tourist to take the Beverly Hills celebrity home tour, except we did it even cheaper than them, and I understood what I was looking at (though I had no factual evidence to whether it was true). My dad was the tour guide, and in the midst of getting lost, he would start to make up whose home belonged to who. There was one that I never forgot, because it was the home of my childhood hero, Lucille Ball. This is a photo of her house before it got remodeled and de-Lucified:



I am a simple person, but I like a smidgen of elegance. Though Lucy had bright red hair, she was exactly that. Her home was also simply elegant. It used to be open for tours, and supposedly I have been inside, but was too young to remember (damn those baby memories our mothers tell us about).

Another home I have recently taken interest in is that of Andy Garcia’s. His home is “reminiscent” of his Cuban childhood, and while I myself don’t have a Cuban childhood beyond weekly visits to my grandparents’ house, it still rings home to me. His childhood was much like my dad’s; born in Cuba, coming to America just before Castro came to full power. Amazing stories they both have, and one that any posterity would be proud of.


Doing a basic Google search, this is the best photo I could get of his house.







There are one or two photos of the interior of his house, which are definitely flaked with bits of “Cuba” throughout. Should I ever consider remodeling, or striking gold, or even owning my own house, I would try to combine the simplicity of Lucy’s house with the elegant Cuban reminiscence of Andy Garcia’s home.
It's hard to see, but notice the painting; very Cuban (if you know what that means). I can definitely picture old Cuban men smoking cigars in this room with cups of Cuban coffee.

The wives are intermingling, trying to talk gossip above the smoke.






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