There's a new survey on the demographics of the suburbs, and as they say on TV when they wish to make you stick around through the car commercials, the results may surprise you. Or not.

When we have a cold week like this, when life up here feels like you're bobbing for rocks in a pail of ammonia, you may be surprised anyone lives up here, let alone in the 'burbs. But live here we do, with pride and pleasure. Ready for the Stunning Results?

• Edina is not entirely rich. Not everyone lives in houses the size of the Humphrey Terminal watching "The Escargot Channel" on fur-trimmed flatscreens while servants shave grapes and place them on their employers' tongues with golden tweezers. It's the fifth richest 'burb.

• Eden Prairie may be the third best place to retire, as U.S. News said, but only 6.5 percent of the residents are older than 65. That's why it's so highly rated -- less competition for seats at 6 a.m. at Denny's.

• Richfield is very diverse -- more than one-fifth of its residents speak something besides English at home. Of course, "diversity" means different things to some. Back when a suburb was all one pale hue, it was still diverse. Religion, politics, cultural heritage, preference for Jif vs. Skippy -- there's no end to differences great and small you'll find in a free nation. Look at a World War II movie: the typical company had a Pole, a Jew, a WASP, an Italian and a guy from Brooklyn. Their folks spoke something other than English at home, too. Especially in the case of the guy from Brooklyn.

• Fridley has the highest percentage in the metro of people who live in Fridley.

And so on. Now that we know suburbia isn't an endless expanse of cookie-cutter ticky-tacky gulags of conformity from which the nourishing oxygen of culture has been sucked by the absorbent power of Pottery Barn furniture, can we rethink our preconceptions? There's been some readjustment already in the past few years; why, movies like "American Beauty" opened our eyes to the fact that there are actual individuals living in the 'burbs, real live people behind the manicured shrubs, and they are often not what they seem.

You don't say.

There's something about the acidulous attitudes toward the 'burbs that smacks of protracted adolescence. The universities are full of kids from comfy 'burbs who revel in the excitement of living in ancient buildings held together only by termite excrement and accreted nicotine, because it's so real.

This was my case; I moved out of the dorm into a creaking heap whose pipes knocked every night as though elves in the basement were crafting the Rheingold.

My parents were aghast at the joint, and were not impressed by its proximity to Cool, Unique, Vibrant Shops. Parents are remarkably uninterested in stores that stock 48 varieties of flavored rolling papers.

I stayed in the city because I love it here. Others want something else, and that's fine. You may not envy my tax bill. I may not envy your commute. We can both agree that it's a personal choice. Also that people who move all the way out to Rogers are nuts.

But there's distrust sometimes, and it works both ways. Many in the 'burbs can't imagine why anyone would live in the city; some think you can't walk around the lake in broad daylight without a tax collector holding you up at gunpoint to collect the money to support failing schools.

I've found, however, that people in the city are more likely to look down on the 'burbs than vice versa. People in the 'burbs don't give the core cities much thought at all, which irritates city dwellers. It's like we're still mad that the suburbs broke up with us and posted photos of their new love on Facebook.

Of all the stats, this is the saddest: Minneapolis is full of people who live alone. Forty-three percent of all households consist of one (1) person. Gads. Do you know what that means? Never mind the question of support for schools, or the impact on neighborhoods that no longer ring with the laughter of kids spilling off the bus, or the multi-generational layers of citizenry that add depth to a block. Almost half the city lives alone.

If you can't get a date for tomorrow night, maybe it is your fault.

jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858 More daily at www.startribune.com/buzz