If you’re reading this and are middle aged (especially a man) you’re depressed and don’t have any friends. That’s right, I’m talking to you and so are big industries who capitalize on your sad state like pharma, shrinks, and the tornado of advertisers who prey on your pleas for help. Us middle-aged people are crying out for help, just like our babies who we put in nursery rooms by themselves. By now, our kids have left, our marriage may have left, and all the friends we used to have are on their own little islands, suffering just like us. We’ve all over-declared our independence, our society has built a super complex, reinforcing system around it. I’m one of these poor souls, too: a middle aged guy with my wife as my best friend, whose put everything I have into my family and most of those kids are now adults who have moved on and left poor, old me feeling really isolated and lonely.
I guess I’m naive because I watch heist movies like Ocean’s Eleven and think nothing that elaborate happens in real life, but after my conversation with this week’s guest, architectural writer Geoff Manaugh, I have a dramatically different point of view. There’s sort of x-ray glasses that burglars use when they look at where we live or where we work, that the rest of us never see.