Men at work
THE Philadelphia neighborhood where I grew up in the 1960s and 1970s was Irish, Italian, and Polish, in that order. Nearly everybody prayed Catholic and voted Democratic. Dads were cops, firemen, bricklayers, or truck drivers. Some morns were retail salesladies or secretaries, but most stayed at home to raise their children. White-collar professionals and bums (we did not quite see a difference) were few. Adult drunks, but not young punks, were tolerated. Weekends were for fun and occasional forbidden pleasures, but, come Monday morning, everyone was expected to “answer the bell” (go to work and live responsibly).