Here in the hills we're staying in a tiny house that comes complete with an outhouse, which sounds suspiciously like my granny's Great Depression stories.
Imagine our idea of something great, being our grandparents' hell with a little extra to eat. Might be telling of the current state of everything.
We have kinda come full circle haven't we? Like how 'organic farming' used to be called subsistence farming.
It's probably just cyclical man. They were dreaming of flying cars and we're running away from them.