Location, Location, Location.
We’ve all watched it. It’s hard to avoid watching it. Scan across the various Channel 4 stations and it will be on. Right now probably.
My significant other is a fan so I can’t avoid it but it is one of these shows that, even if you don’t plan on watching, when you do you get sucked in. When we watch, we see ourselves. And relive the joy and trauma and complexity of moving home.
You know the format. A couple decide it’s time to move on. They’ve taken the decision as a family. Maybe not unanimously, but they’ve decided nevertheless.
They have to set out their ambition for the move. More space or less for visitors? Staying close to former neighbours or striking out to pastures new?
Will the options on offer make it easier or harder to carry on their work, or do new opportunities await instead? Is it just about them, or the generations to come?
How much can they afford? Not just on moving day but in the months and years to follow? How long will it take to decide and how long will the move take?
And so Phil and Kirsty guide them through the trials and tribulations.
Kirsty preaches that “it’s all about compromise”.
Phil is the money man, doing the deals and playing his cards close to his chest.
And at the end, the couple face a trilema. Three shiny new options such as the Scandinavian semi, the country detached or the wild card in between.
Or they could call it a day and decide that no move is better than a bad move. And whatever they decide they hope that the family will be happy too. But sometimes keeping everyone on board can be tough.
By now, you will be ahead of me.
For Location, Location, Location read Brexit, Brexit, Brexit..
For Kirsty, read Theresa. Phil can stay as Phil.
As for any petulant youths, insert your own…
And thus, we are now living in our own reality show.
Our family didn’t all want to move. But move we will.
We have different needs when we move. For some, it’s about our economy and jobs. For others, it’s taking back control of our borders or laws. For some, it’s all about the money.
But the sheer complexity of Brexit is like playing ten dimensional chess.
Conveyancing law might be complicated. But it’s nothing compared to untangling decades of EU rules and regulations.
House hunting for a family of four is tricky, but balancing out the conflicting desires over trade, immigration and finances for a whole country is about moving 60Million people. It’s no wonder we squabble.
In the TV programme, the highlight is when they bid for the chosen new home.
They know how much they are prepared to pay. The sellers know how much they’d like to get. Neither reveals their hand. They haggle. It can be tough. And that’s when there is a willing buyer and a willing seller.
All of which is to say this: if we all agreed on whether to Brexit at all and about what we wanted now we are moving, then we wouldn’t have needed a referendum.
If we all agreed on our priorities then we would not have to follow Kirsty’s advice and seek compromise.
We should accept that argument is good. It’s how the best answer is found.
And we need to learn the main lesson of Location, Location, Location. Don’t let the other side see all your cards, but instead engage in mature and reasoned negotiations. Get it right, not rushed.
After all, even if you move house you may well stay in the same neighbourhood. And who wants to fall out with their neighbours?
I’ve been on my travels again. In four days, Scotland, England, Jersey, Wales and Northern Ireland.
As I type this I am waiting for the final leg home. I’ve had a great few days free from travel turmoil.
But on landing in Belfast, I had to make an urgent rush to the toilets.
No. Not because I’ve reached the age where bladder control gets challenging after one grande latte.
But because turbulence decided to strike just as I was about to stir my cup of tea.
I ended up mildly shaken, and the drink not stirred. A warm glow spread through me. Egg on my face. Tea on my jeans.
But thankfully Flybe hot water isn’t too hot and half an hour later I squelched off the plane. To the amusement of others and the embarrassment of yours truly.