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Sometimes, the clusters simply underscore realities already apparent, such as the widening gap between the richest and poorest Americans. The nation's most affluent neighborhood type, Blue Blood Estates (where the heirs to "old money" fortunes reside), has been joined by other wealthy havens, such as Winner's Circle (new-money suburbs dotted with split-levels) and Country Squires (ritzy small towns like Middleburg, Virginia, characterized by horse farms and sport-utility vehicles). At the other end of the spectrum, America's poorest citizens are no longer confined to the urban ghettos of Inner Cities or the isolated settlements of Hard Scrabble, where hunting and fishing help put food on the table. For the first time, the poorest neighborhoods in America are found outside the nation's largest metros, in Southside City, a cluster of midsized city districts where blue-collar African Americans have a median income of $15,800, barely above the poverty line of $15,570 for a family of four. Between the 1980 and 1990 census, the median income of the wealthiest cluster jumped 55 percent, to $113,000 annually, while that of the poorest cluster increased only 39 percent, to $15,000. Sociologists say global competition and the cyber-revolution have widened the gap that divides the haves from the have-nots. But long-term contracts for workers in blue-collar industries are also disappearing. No longer are Americans rising and falling together, as if in one large national boat," former labor secretary Robert Reich observed. "We are, increasingly, in different, smaller boats." And not all of us are assured of life rafts.

At the same time, the American family is evolving into many different kinds of households with wildly different needs. Marketers once pitched products nationally on network TV to just a few dominant prototypes, the favorite being the white middle-class housewife wearing a sweater and fake pearls who worried herself sick over ring around the collar. Today, there's no overwhelming type of household in the United States. The most common model, married couples without children, represents 30 percent of the nation's households. Married couples with children make up about 25 percent, and about the same percentage of Americans live alone, up from less than 8 percent in 1940. One result of the continuing singles boom is the emergence of a cluster called Upstarts & Seniors, which contains both young and older singles living in modest homes and apartments often located in inner-ring suburbs. Despite their differences in age, they share a fondness for movies, health clubs, and coffee bars. In Upstarts & Seniors communities like Lakeside, Virginia, outside of Richmond, a visitor can find a shopping center with a tanning salon next to a shop specializing in denture care.

If there is any successor to the traditional homemaker who dominated popular culture a generation ago, it's today's Soccer Mom, that working mother of school-aged children whom commentators celebrated as the key to the 1996 presidential election. Found in a dozen lifestyle types, Soccer Moms typically describe themselves as political moderates concerned about family values, reducing military spending, and increasing environmental programs. Although some political commentators doubted their impact on the election, the pervasiveness of their lifestyle cannot be overlooked. In Upward Bound, a midsized city cluster of new subdivisions filled with dual-income couples, Soccer Moms swarm the streets every afternoon and weekend in their GMC Suburbans and Mercury Villagers, carting kids to chess clubs, tae kwon do lessons, and, yes, soccer leagues. In the cluster community of Federal Way, Washington, south of Seattle, many women log three hundred miles a week in after-school schlepping. A local marketing survey found that more people eat meals in their cars than any other place - including the home.

Under the cluster system, the "average American" - that is, the typical citizen trumpeted by network commentators - proves to be a figment of statisticians' imaginations, since the "average" lifestyle cluster represents less than 2 percent of the population. The "middle class" now comes in variations ranging from suburban white-collar couples (New Empty Nests) to rural blue-collar families (Shotguns & Pickups). Even the most populous cluster lifestyles are too small to have much meaning. Ten years ago, the largest cluster in America was Blue-Chip Blues, a collection of blue-collar family suburbs like Ronkonkoma, New York, and Mesquite, Texas, where the lifestyle resembled an old episode of Roseanne. Residents liked to relax by drinking beer or going to the Elks Club, and meals included heavily processed food like Hamburger Helper, potato chips, and creamed corn. But as manufacturing jobs disappeared and the children of Blue-Chip Blues grew up and moved out, the cluster population dropped from 6 percent of U.S. households to 2 percent. And its working-class lifestyle faded. In recent years, membership in fraternal organizations has dropped, beer sales have nosedived, and Roseanne has disappeared, to be replaced by sitcoms like Friends, whose characters pursue typical Bohemian Mix lifestyles. Roseanne just couldn't compete, despite an abrupt story-line shift that found the blue-collar family suddenly rich beyond their imagination after hitting the lottery - one working-class version of the American Dream.

Although hip urban lifestyles may be in vogue on TV, the most populous cluster in the nation today is Kids & Cul-de-Sacs, a collection of white-collar family suburbs like Wheaton, Illinois, known for its noisy medley of bikes, boom boxes, carpooled kids, and dogs. Home to about 9 million people, this cluster is the nation's largest - eleven times larger than the smallest cluster, Urban Gold Coast. But by no means does it represent the "average American" type. Even with its sprawling families - this cluster ranks first for having families with four or more people - only 3.5 percent of all Americans live in Kids & Cul-de-Sacs. The median household income, $61,600, is 40 percent higher than the national average. And the cluster contains half as many blacks and twice as many Asians as the U.S. norm. Together, these demographics have a singular effect on consumer patterns. Kids & Cul-de-Sacs households are much more likely than the general population to eat Brie cheese, drive Infinitis, buy CD-ROM disks, and shop at Price Club. When it comes to television, This Old House outranks NYPD Blue. On the sidewalks of Wheaton, it's not unusual to see traffic jams involving strollers; the lives and crimes of the NYPD Blue squad just don't resonate here.

On the other hand, there's plenty of evidence that a thriving homogenized culture exists in America, with identically dressed counter people flipping identically dressed hamburgers in strip malls from coast to coast. In this slice of Anywhere, U.S.A., giants like Wal-Mart and Home Depot offer almost anything to anybody, smothering the local shops that in the past gave cities and small towns their character and charm. On local TV stations, the bland voices of anchorpeople have supplanted regional accents. Social scientists have dubbed this process "the McDonaldization of society." They could just have well have termed it the salsa-dipping, Cajun-seasoning, Carolina-barbecuing of America, as fast-food chains have watered down and dispersed these once-regional food trends throughout the nation.

Copyright © 2000 by Michael J. Weiss

Tags: Career & Money

About the Author

Michael J. Weiss is an award-winning journalist, author, and marketing consultant. A contributing editor to the Washingtonian and Ladies' Home Journal, he has also written for the Atlantic Monthly, the Newport Times, Redbook, and People. His first book, The Clustering of America, was named one of the best business books of 1988. He lives with his wife and two children in Washington, D.C.