It's time that as a society we clarify the terms luxury and resort.
I didn't know it was a problem until a few years ago when we lived at the blue house. I did a lot of visiting as a part of my calling in my last ward and I got to be pretty familiar with a certain apartment complex across the way. The landlord was not known for taking good care of the tenants. For example one cold, November Sunday in Relief Society we had one such tenant raise her hand to share in our "good news minute" (which often included news of pregnancies, grandchildren, successful potty-training and graduations). "We finally got our heat turned on," she said, leaving me speechless at the podium and squelching any thoughts of sharing other, more typical good news.
After putting in new windows on the apartment the following spring, a new sign appeared outside the apartments: Monte Vista Luxury Apartments.
We were all left aghast at the sign. Did the new windows transform the stained carpet, the cockroach infestation or the furnace problems? Tenants told me that rent was raised, but that other than their new (and desperately needed) windows, nothing else had really changed.
Then, a few weeks ago, driving home from Yellowstone, we passed what looked like a run-down motel. A two-story place with about 20 rooms, the kind of motel you'd rather camp outside of than stay in. I glanced at the sign boasting, "Resort" and was again perplexed.
That's when I decided that somebody needs to be responsible for the usage of the words luxury and resort, because without any distinction we're left with lot of confused and/or disillusioned consumers. I propose we have a council who convenes to give a limited amount of licenses to people, allowing them to use the magic words in their marketing. And I think there should be criteria met that would act as proof of luxury.
Well, don't you?
Otherwise I'm going to start using them for everything. My luxurious couch bed. Luxury pink tile, my kids' lemonade resort. My garage/shed luxury resort, complete with extravagant antiquities, including two resplendent twin mattress.
Actually, scratch the license thing. I'm starting to feel totally awesome about the lavishness of all my lame stuff.