I mean, consider the recent buzz about Salt Lake County's most creative housing options. On the far southwest end of the valley, we have Daybreak, Kennecott Land's "master planned" community, rolling along 4,100 acres of South Jordan's west bench. Here is an exoburb striving mightily for urban status. At Daybreak, homes come in various sizes and quaint designs. In an effort to snag the feel of a true city neighborhood, the homes have big front porches. Promoters call the place "Harvard-Yale with closets."

An organic community garden is under way and Kennecott promises fully one-quarter of the land will be devoted to parks, trails and open space.

On the north end of the valley, we have Salt Lake City Councilwoman Nancy Saxton pitching a section of her Central City district for a redevelopment project. Here, in an effort to lure families to the city - where steadily growing property values have priced many of Utah's supersized clans out of the market - Saxton proposes bigger, suburban-style homes on moderately sized lots. Imagine grassy yards and double garages, two miles from downtown Salt Lake. Your own hacienda, Herriman style.

So, to recap: At South Jordan's Daybreak, we have houses with small backyards, xeriscaping, and to discourage unsightly suburban driveway clutter, a special parking lot required for storage of RVs.

In Salt Lake, we are experimenting with thoughts of razing shabby homes and replacing them with suburban dreamscapes: Places with four bedrooms, and hopefully, prices in the Daybreak range of $170,000 to $250,000.

Yikes, I am getting dizzy. Which is it? City living in the country or suburban ramblers plopped smack dab in town? Which is the hippest, most desirable way to live? Which vision to choose?

I don't know. Maybe both. Perhaps turning all tightly held notions of housing models upside down is what we need in this century. Look: Salt Lake has lost 3,138 residents since 2000, and any city built entirely on cranky old empty-nesters (no offense - my own nest will be vacant in just four years) is nowhere I want to live. If we can make this city more affordable, we might entice a few more families to join us.

As for Daybreak, last week my fellow homeowner and I finally did some reconnaissance and headed out from our Salt Lake neighborhood. We filled the tank with gas and piled the trunk with a space blanket, flashlight, matches and chocolate bars. We told our next-door neighbor our destination, just in case.

Just kidding. It really isn't that far away. Still, before we got there, we had moved through nearly one whole CD of Pink Floyd's "The Wall."

There are people who can endure that bleak commute. I am not one of them. A TRAX station is on the construction fast track, which should help ease traffic pains. But have we reached the point yet, with gasoline at more than $2.30 a gallon, where Daybreak residents will give up their cars for the train? I'm not convinced, even though the community's success, in large part, is planned around mass transit.

And transit funding, like everything else that emanates from Washington, can be terribly fluid.

We eventually sauntered through six of the 23 model homes and left impressed. Big rooms. Little yards. Many closets.

We aren't ready to homestead at Daybreak, but we did leave with open minds. And why not? We have people turning old concepts of what works backwards and upside down. That may be just what it takes in a world where space and fresh air are commodities and people need each other more than ever.

hmullen@sltrib.com