Mike Brady Lied to Me
Why "The Brady Bunch" is a terrible guide for the architectural profession
I was inducted into architectural school by Mike Brady. I don't tell this story to many people, mainly because it makes me look suspect. But it is true.
In the summer of 1987 I decided to change majors from engineering to architecture. I was always good at math and science, and my father was an engineer, so engineering seemed like the perfect choice. As it turned out, this wasn't true. Apparently being good at math and understanding complex differential equations are not the same thing.
I was bored in class. I wanted to pursue a more creative field. I needed to make a change. So I went to the main office at the school of architecture and asked to talk to someone about changing everything in my life, forever. They sent me to see Mike Brady.
It was summer, and the school was in the middle of a search for a new dean. They had an interim dean holding down the fort until they found a permanent choice. They sent me into his office. I stepped in, and there was Mike Brady. He had curly red hair, an extra-wide collar on his plaid shirt and one of those corduroy jackets with the patches on the elbows. He may even have had a pipe.
I sat down across from him to talk about my need to make the world a better place by way of a few well-placed forms of concrete, each with a majestic view. Mike Brady wanted to make sure I was making the right choice, so he proceeded to tell me what the profession of architecture was really like. He told me about what architects do for a living. He told me about his own experience in the profession. He told me that architecture was a difficult profession, but if it you were well suited for it, you would do well. Mike Brady was very happy with his choice to be an architect, and he felt I would be too.
Truthfully, I didn't hear much of what he said. I was really just staring at him and nodding slowly, thinking "This is TOTALLY Mike Brady from 'The Brady Bunch' talking to me right now."
Mike had me sign a few papers, and managed to pull some strings to get me started in the program over the summer instead of waiting until the fall semester. Then he patted me on my shoulder and led me to the door. I think he called me "sport."
I started architecture school the next week. On my first day of class I popped into the office to see Mike and thank him. The nice woman at the desk looked at me like I was crazy. She had no idea who I was talking about. And I never saw Mike Brady again. I don't really know if he was there in the first place. But I do know this:
Mike Brady lied to me about architecture.
In the summer of 1987 I decided to change majors from engineering to architecture. I was always good at math and science, and my father was an engineer, so engineering seemed like the perfect choice. As it turned out, this wasn't true. Apparently being good at math and understanding complex differential equations are not the same thing.
I was bored in class. I wanted to pursue a more creative field. I needed to make a change. So I went to the main office at the school of architecture and asked to talk to someone about changing everything in my life, forever. They sent me to see Mike Brady.
It was summer, and the school was in the middle of a search for a new dean. They had an interim dean holding down the fort until they found a permanent choice. They sent me into his office. I stepped in, and there was Mike Brady. He had curly red hair, an extra-wide collar on his plaid shirt and one of those corduroy jackets with the patches on the elbows. He may even have had a pipe.
I sat down across from him to talk about my need to make the world a better place by way of a few well-placed forms of concrete, each with a majestic view. Mike Brady wanted to make sure I was making the right choice, so he proceeded to tell me what the profession of architecture was really like. He told me about what architects do for a living. He told me about his own experience in the profession. He told me that architecture was a difficult profession, but if it you were well suited for it, you would do well. Mike Brady was very happy with his choice to be an architect, and he felt I would be too.
Truthfully, I didn't hear much of what he said. I was really just staring at him and nodding slowly, thinking "This is TOTALLY Mike Brady from 'The Brady Bunch' talking to me right now."
Mike had me sign a few papers, and managed to pull some strings to get me started in the program over the summer instead of waiting until the fall semester. Then he patted me on my shoulder and led me to the door. I think he called me "sport."
I started architecture school the next week. On my first day of class I popped into the office to see Mike and thank him. The nice woman at the desk looked at me like I was crazy. She had no idea who I was talking about. And I never saw Mike Brady again. I don't really know if he was there in the first place. But I do know this:
Mike Brady lied to me about architecture.
I did not.
She does not. In fact, I think Alice made more money than I do, and she worked fewer hours, even though she was a live-in maid.
I would love to run around an amusement park with my roll of drawings tucked under my arm as I help my kids find a magical tiki necklace while my client waits patiently in a conference room, not noticing the tarantula slowly crawling up his shirtsleeve. But this has not happened.
Nope, I haven't designed my own home, mainly because I can't afford my own taste. I live in a 1950s house that another architect designed, which is not the same thing at all.
They cannot.
This is a little-known fact. Midcentury modern houses are always larger on the inside than they appear on the outside. It's like a Tardis in there. Of course! This must be how Mike Brady got back to 1987 to talk to me.
I aim to bring this look back. Assuming that "plaid" comes in black.
My 6-year-old and 8-year-old are running around my office right now, pulling up their shirts and singing "Gurl, look at that body." I'm a great father. I just hope a client doesn't call.
There's always someone else who gets the better commission. And that someone is Marcia Brady. I swear, she always gets the good projects. It's all the rest of us ever hear about. "Marcia Marcia Marcia."
After 20 years as an architect, I'm still not sure if Mike Brady knew what he was talking about. My problems are not simply misunderstandings that can be resolved in a half hour. I'm not living in a picture-perfect version of domestic bliss. But I was promised a well-designed life, surrounded by a loving wife and family, and that is exactly what I have now.
So maybe Mike Brady was right after all. Maybe this profession is difficult but rewarding. And maybe I am well suited to be an architect after all. Maybe.
But I still think Marcia gets too much attention in the design magazines.
So maybe Mike Brady was right after all. Maybe this profession is difficult but rewarding. And maybe I am well suited to be an architect after all. Maybe.
But I still think Marcia gets too much attention in the design magazines.