There's open concept. And then there's WIDE OPEN CONCEPT.

Like everybody else who watches a fair amount (i.e.,  ton) of HGTV (which features shows where people are looking for homes, rehabbing homes, selling homes, etc.), I'm quite familiar with the concept of Open Concept: big rooms where the living room-dining room-family room-kitchen all meld into on great, big old great room, perfect for all the great big old entertaining that everyone on HGTV claims they love to do. 

I understand people who entertain don't like to be exiled to the kitchen, slaving over a hot stove while the guests drink up and enjoy themselves. But not wanting to slave over a hot stove is what snacky foods you can prep ahead of time are for. Or simple, one dish meals. Or pizza.

Anyway, the desire for Open Concept is a perpetual trope on certain HGTV shows, often coupled with a couple taking opposite debate team stances (all scripted for "reality" TV, of course): SHE wants Open Concept, HE wants a separate dining room. 

Personally, I'm a Closed Concept kind of gal. When I cook, I'd just as soon have the mess contained in the kitchen and not have it confronting me while I'm trying to eat whatever helped create that mess in the kitchen. Plus I just like cozier rooms. 

My husband was claustrophobic. Our living room - 400 square feet or so - was just right for him. I'd rather chill in the den which is probably about 120 square feet in size. I've always preferred a confined space. More than once, my mother told me that, when she was in labor with me, I was, in fact, trying to crawl back up the birth canal to get back in the room.

Anyway, there's Open Concept and then there's WIDE OPEN CONCEPT.

I've seen bits of it occasionally: the entire first floor with nary a barrier or support pillar in sight; the bedroom with a bathtub in it.

But a house from Stroudsburg, PA (in the Poconos) that appeared recently on Zillow (and which I saw when someone tweeted it out) takes the Open Concept cake.

From the outside, there's a hint that something odd's going on. That back deck. The one jutting out from the back - or is it the front - of the house. The house on the steep hill.

There's no railing around it. These folks must never let alcohol pass their lips, because this is a complete invitation to fall off and break your neck. Then roll down the hill so your company needs to go retrieve your body. The degree of difficulty would be high enough even if the deck had a way to get down off it. Like stairs or something. Maybe a little ladder. But, no.

Then there's the downstairs combo room. Pretty standard OC.

Other than that the kitchen appears a bit substandard. What, no stainless?

But then you look, up in the sky. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Nope. It's the clawfoot bathtub from the master suite in the loft.

Actually, master suite is a misnomer. What's sitting there, perched over the great room, is the master room. All included.

Understandably, a good deal of the reaction on Twitter was that someone could lose their footing getting out of that tub, and make a swan dive into the Great Room. Look out below!

Or that clearly the folks who designed this place aren't "kid friendly."

And you sure wouldn't want to get up out of bed in the middle of night and start wandering around.

Many noted that, in any place in the country - perhaps with the exception of Texas - this would be a code violation. (The Texas of my imagination: Building code! What building code! We don't need no stinkin' building code.)

A keen-eyed observer did note that, while it's difficult to see, there is a plexiglass half-wall at the end of the master room.

Relieved to find that the only neck-breaker in this place was the deck, commenters went on a tear about privacy. After all, unless you're a nudist or an exhibitionist, you won't want to be taking a bath with company's around. 

Me? My reaction was the the place looked impossible to heat. And who wants to step out of a nice warm bath into a not so nice chilly room.

And then, of course, the eye was drawn to the toilet and bidet parked next to the bed. Or is it two toilets: his and hers (or hers and hers, or his and his...)?

I'm sorry, but on what planet does someone want to take a dump next to your bed? Did they never hear the wise old adage: Don't shit where you sleep? I mean, unless it's medically necessary, come on...

And it's one thing to pee in front of your partner, quite another thing to, you know...

Two things come to mind.

Decades ago, my sisters and I rented a house on a lake for a couple of weeks, and we took overlapping turns residing there.

The lake was lovely, the house was fine - although off a dark, creepy road with no one around in the days before cell phones. That an fine except for the bathroom.

The owners hadn't quite finished construction, and the walls in the bathroom only went up so far. They went up to head height, but then there was wide open space between the wall and the ceiling. We quickly figured out a code for Privacy Needed. Everyone out! We bought a can of Lysol spray.

The second thing that comes to mind is of a time when I was camping with friends on a remote Greek Island. 

It was paradise.

The Aegean Sea was right there in our front yard. There was a taverna a hundred yards or so away where we could have a glass of wine, and where they'd sell us a big round loaf of this absolutely scrumptious peasant bread. When the fishing boats came in, we'd walk to the pier in front of the taverna and buy whatever the dayboat catch was. We walked into the hills, into the nearby farm fields, to buy tomatoes, peppers, cukes, onions, and watermelon. Someone in the little, store-less town sold feta out of their living room. Someone else sold bottled water.

Other than the "where to go" situation, it was heaven.

Yes, we could use the toilet at the taverna. But the taverna wasn't open 24/7. So sometimes, we need to sit on the stone wall that separated our camping spot from a pasture, and go in the donkey pasture. And sometimes the donkey whose pasture it was would mosey over and give your bum a nuzzle.

Good times!

Anyway, that house in Stroudsburg, PA just sold for $555K. Hope they have enough money left over to throw a screen around that bathtub, block off the toilet, and put a railing up around that porch. 

There's open concept. And then there's WIDE OPEN CONCEPT.

No thanks.