Several years ago my wife Jana and I attended a late winter party in our community at the home of friends. Late winter in Chicago is late March, and the night was cold, rainy, and humid.

The party included couples and singles, and we met several new people that evening for the first time. One new couple oozed the perfect suburban image—she had the figure and looks of Country Music superstar Shania Twain, and he had the presence of Donald Trump, a younger version, only with better hair and a Lance Armstrong physique. I had a lengthy conversation with him about the venture capital he was supposedly raising for a business idea.

About four months later, we heard that she had left him. Allegedly, one of the two was unfaithful, and there also were allegations of a darker sort.

Their story reminded me once again about one of the deep truths of suburban living: what you see is not real. Or, should I say, what I want to see is an illusion. For example, I see my neighbor’s bigger house and better vacations and better golden retriever, and conclude his life might be richer and more fulfilling than mine. And often people portray only what they want others to see (image management). That is, I manage my life so that others think I’m living the good life.

Of course, all this is largely a mirage.