Those of you who remember the 1950's (and the early 60's, say, to about 1966);

Were they perfect?

Whenever my mother starts talking about her adolescence, growing up upper-middle-class in Hillsboro, Oregon in the 1950's, a magical pink warmth suffuses her face and her voice takes on a magical tone.

The way Mom taks about the Fifties, it really sounds as though everyone and everything was just perfect! Almost a Nirvana.

The movie I'm re-watching now, FAR FROM HEAVEN (2002), suggests that beneath the facade of 50's perfection, there were some real problems; in this particular story, a white woman is in love with a black man, and her husband realizes he's gay (and an alcoholic). Both are oustered from "society" because of it...

So... Are your memories of that era filled with a kind of perfection? Everyone dressing well, minding their manners, gender roles neatly observed, caring about society and deportment and rules and respect for authority, service excellent in stores and restaurants, marriages that lasted, wholesome foods, crime-free neighborhoods, children who obeyed and played outdoors, teens healthy and athletic, wholesome family entertainments free of intrigue, sex, violence; etc., etc? The way Mom tells it, America kinda went to hell circa the late-60's and early-70's...

How do YOU recall that era?

Rasputin, given your keen interest in the workings of society, I wouldn't be surprised if you have more of an opinion on this than indicated in the question. Look forward to seeing your thoughts later.

My parents criticized the fifties for various political reasons I can't get into here. I'm sure there was a lot of hardship and tragedy and a seamier side of life, just as in any other generation. There were some very dark films made showing the hard lives of various segments of the population. At the same time, if you lived in small-town America, the fifties were largely as your mother paints them. Even in a city like New York, you could go there, walk around the streets even late at night, and have no fear of danger. Concerns faced by children and teenagers were for the most part innocent in comparison to what young people face today. A bad kid in school was someone who played hooky or arrived after the late bell. (Naughty, naughty!) It was a very optimistic time of economic growth and rebuilding following the Depression and WWII and when it came to looking toward the future, there was no such question as "Will I find a job?" The question was only "What kind of a job should I go for?"

The one thing I particularly liked about the fifties is it was the last decade when there was a genuine desire to build better quality consumer goods that would last longer and eventually cost the consumer less. A car built in the fifties was strong as a tank. Starting in the 1960s, the throwaway society began and the spiraling of waste. Up until that time, people were more conservative (in the keeping sense) about their possessions. And don't forget, in the fifties all those great French perfumes were still available in your local drugstore for $3.00! That alone could make the fifties close to perfect!

I was born in 1955, so you're talking about my childhood here. I'm gonna have to put on my "BE BRIEF" hat...

I agree heartily which what FiveO has said.... a very nice summation.

Were the 50's-early 60's perfect? Nope. I'm not sure human societies can achieve "perfection"... they can always be improved.

This is an era that gets a lot of criticism, much of it unjustified, IMHO. Think about what it would have meant to live through that world-wide psychotic meltdown known as WWII. Yes, people were content to enjoy prosperity. After the depression and that horrific war, who wouldn't have been? The often-accepted image is that the 50's-60's were all about the "glossy magazine" achievements of homes, cars, and washing machines. Oh really? We can't criticize that era for rampant consumerism... we're *so* much worse.

Two aspects to this era that I believe are admirable:
-- Adults were expected to act like grownups, not just adolescents with a cash flow.
-- The civil rights movement finally, FINALLY, began to be widely accepted as necessary.

Dave, Fiveoaks sums it up pretty well. I was born in 1950, and spent those years in Norfolk and Richmond, Virginia, respectively. I grew up in a stable home (my parents just had their 61st anniversary, and are devoted to each other) in a middle class neighborhood. There was a sense of optimism. Things felt safe. We'd just won WWII and felt invincible and good. My parents' generation survived the Great Depression, so they knew the value of hard work and saving money. They were a RESPONSIBLE generation. And, in our family, these same values were passed on. DH and I save like crazy, live well below our means (though, still, in a very nice house), pay cash when we can, and have no credit card debt. I mean, why live any other way? We worked hard and worked our way up.

Men tipped their hats, stood when ladies entered the room, held doors open for you. I am careful these days to show my appreciation (as I always have) to any who still do these things. It's not demeaning, it's polite. It's kind.

One could stroll through downtown Atlanta and enjoy it (in the '50s we'd come here to visit). Now, it's dodge the panhandlers and urine-soaked door entries. Don't even think about going into Woodruff Park and sitting on a bench. The alcoholics have taken it over completely, and you'll be hounded.

I rode my bike miles away from home, and no one had to worry. I played all day out in the woods, making bike paths. Kids' lives weren't scheduled. We just went over, rang the doorbell, and if it was convenient we played, and if not, we went over to someone else's house; or they came over to ours. School had a few rules, but the teachers were literate and there weren't signs posted like the one I saw last week at my son's school: "Incidences (sic) of weapons and drugs will not be tolerated."

There were three channels on television, and there was one television. There was nothing embarrassing or obscene -- it wouldn't have been tolerated for a second -- and we enjoyed watching things as a family.

My mother wore a suit, gloves, hat, and heels when she took the bus downtown to shop. People looked GOOD.

Truly, if you watch Mad Men, that is the way things really looked. And, as in Mad Men, people did plenty of things to make themselves and others miserable. My aunt's husband ran around, and they were divorced. Another aunt's husband ran around, but they didn't divorce, cad though he was. Black people had it bad, and I remember my mother being upset about "colored" and "white" water fountains, bathrooms, motels, etc. But the culture was cleaner and there were naturally high expectations concerning behavior. The coarseness of our current culture would have been mind boggling. I am embarrassed for my parents to have to witness it, and saddened for myself, my son, and for everyone who grew up expecting decency who now must live in what feels like a filthy goldfish bowl.

I like to remember the 50's with a warm glow, just like your Mom did, David! There were a much more innocent time. Sure, a lot of things were suppressed and maybe people were not as 'open' as they are today, and everything was not so 'in your face' as it is now. But that's not all bad either. Everything comes full circle, eventually.

I know I date myself by remembering them and calling them 'the good old days', but in my heart they were and always will be. A time of innocence and fond memories.....
Just one memorable example, movie stars were real movie stars back in the day.

So very well said, Boxwood! The days of manners, and politeness. I also remember black people having it bad, but thank heavens that is improving. I was brought up to be color blind, and I am thankful that I was. Same sex marriages were not even thought of then, thank heavens we are coming forward with that as well. We still have a long way to go as far as tolerance in this country, as most people hide theirs, but we have come such a long way.

It's my experience that lots of people have very selective memories about their past.

In fact, I'd go so far as to say that the louder people protest about the supposed depravity of the current era, the more likely it is that they've worked pretty hard not to remember events of the past as they really were, particularly not their own actions. (Not referring to any specific person posting here, just recalling specific people in my own life I've known for decades.)

No matter what one thinks about same-sex relationships, I am afraid Atlanta's Gay Pride parade is a contributor to the coarseness around us. Is there really any excuse for my son to have to see men tricked out in black leather and studs, wearing chaps with their entire behinds showing, with only a narrow strip of tight leather covering what looks like a padded banana? Is there any excuse AT ALL for that, right there on Piedmont Avenue? "Mom!! Did you see him?! Why was he dressed like that? Ewwww!"

"He's a warped person," was my reply. And then I explained what warped meant.

50's perfect? NOTHING is perfect.



I may not be perfect but I have some parts that are incredible! Same with the 50's. Same now!

To put it as briefly and generally as possible - the 50's/early 60's were a time where there was a sharp delineation between public and private lives, and people put on a good face in public, right down to how they dressed and how they carried themselves. I miss the availability of skillfully made, high quality goods to the middle/working classes, where a craftsman was proud of his work and a product was made to last. I also miss the idea of carrying oneself with dignity in public - but perhaps this care and dignity and concern of what others might think came at the cost of personal freedom of expression and creativity. I believe that the cohesiveness and conformity of the community was more important than the rights of the individual back in those days, and that as long as rights of minority groups and women were surpressed, it was inevitable for the pendulum to swing in the opposite direction. The thing I miss the most, was that I felt "safe", though I now know that this safety was bestowed in an unfair manner, where some were the beneficiaries and others were the scapegoats.

Oh, my. Considering alone the oppressed position of black people, women, and homosexuals the through the fifties, I could never believe that this era was perfect. And the pervasive trickle-down effect of McCarthyism on the general cultural climate. So much more...

Gosh, I just don't think anything about the fifties was perfect. With all our troubles, I'm still thankful to be here today.

(For reference: Born in '52; raised in white, middle-middle class suburb of Chicago.)

Of course the '50s weren't perfect.

R: another's creativity being surpressed: some things should be surpressed. Some things are patently offensive. I think we know offensive when we see it. The offenders don't care. Indeed, they think it is good. And that's a problem.

True enough. I won't defend McCarthyism or oppression. And it was practiced in that era.

But let's be realistic. Take a step back and view it over a wider time frame. Black people had been oppressed (the word is hardly adequate) in North America since 1640. And the treatment of women had veered back and forth from just-okay to horrendous in the preceeding centuries. And I'd say it's probably safe to describe the treatment of homosexuals as horrendous during the long history of Christianized Europe and North America. (I stipulate Christian only because I'm not sure how pre-Christian pagan Europe treated homosexuals, or how Native North Americans treated them.) And what era doesn't have its McCarthys?

So I think it could be said that the 1950s-1960's as the "tipping point" or "awareness point" where a lot of oppressive behavior finally began to be widely questioned. Not just argued about or campaigned for in the rather narrow camp of intellectuals or activists, but by society as a whole. And that's the point at which change can finally begin.

Well now the pendulum has swung in the complete opposite direction where the rights of the individual trump any sense of preserving community - it was bound to happen as a reaction to very strict, narrow communal standards and mores, but I think the time has come where each individual needs to say to him or herself, how can I use my individual gifts to help and strengthen the community, not just for self-centered personal expression, but for the good of a larger whole?

I just thought of a shorter way to say it: Individual rights have trumped any sense of responsibility to the community, but the times seem to be calling out for individuals to exercise their individual freedoms to serve the greater good of the community at large.

Very well said, Demetrue, and I agree.

I would wonder why you would even have your son there Boxwood if you object so strongly to it. I remember there being gay pride parades in Detroit back in the day, and if I hadn't wanted my children to see them, I just would not have taken them. I know exactly where Piedmont Avenue is. Atlanta is huge and there are a lot of parts where gay pride doesn't parade, I am sure. I am not trying at all to appear argumentative, but I do know that one has the choice to view or not view the parade. I also don't consider gay people as "warped'.

Now here's a serious question I have about the Fifties: Mom says that in those days, women all wore gloves, hats, suits, twinsets, and various pieces of underclothing... sometimes constrictive girdles and whatnot.

Men invariably wore hats, sometimes gloves, but always an undershirt.

Much of America is VERY warm in climate during much of the year (Texas, for one, is blistering), and I know that, in the Fifties, not too many homes and businesses had air-conditioning as we think of it today.

I honestly don't know how people survived Texas (and Deep South) summers before there was air conditioning! I hear stories of children sleeping on the kitchen floor back then, because the linoleum was the only cool place in the house..?

And how did people get by wearing so many clothes? I love the handsome fashions of the Fifties-- I would kill, let's say, to own some of the suits one sees on Frank Sinatra, Desi Arnaz, Monty Clift, William Holden, and other men of the 50's... But didn't people burn up of the heat?

Yes, I see what you're saying, BlueCedar. Of course, issues of gender and race did not beginin the 1950s. I was responding to the question Rasputin initially posed in his paragraph that begins with

My insight gleaned from growing up in that era is that the projecting of appearances of perfection--marital, familial, community, a general "wholesomeness," etc.--frequently belied a different truth beneath. And I think that those contradictions contibuted significantly to the cultural unrest that was expressed to an almost revolutionary degree in the sixties.

I am thankful for that "revolution."

Yes! Even in New Jersey!

With regard to the heat, I can remember when I lived in Florida in the early 90's. There were people who were original Floridians so they said, who didn't use air conditioning. That made me swelter just thinking about it. I remember one of my patients telling me "we just open the front and back door and it's cool enough"! Not for me, no way!

I dont' remember thinking of it as hot in the 50's. My mom and dad used window fans a lot back then. I did work in one hospital that did not have air conditioning in the late 60's and giving patients baths on the afternoon shift that I worked. We did this also as a comfort measure, and they slept better. We used to give little drinks of wine as medicine at night back then as well, if they were requested.

Well said, I totally agree.

Chardkay, that's a reasonable question. Son and I had been at church, which is North Avenue Presbyterian. It's downtown on the corner of Peachtree and North Avenue. The parade goes right by the front of the church, so there's no getting around it, unless we leave via another door, which is usually easier to do anyway. No problem. But I made the mistake (not made again this year) of heading down my usual route home, which is Piedmont. Just not thinking! We were smack dab in the middle of every kind of costume, and dress and undress, imaginable. But that's the problem, isn't it? Why should I have to avoid certain parts of town? Look what happened when I, John Q. Citizen, innocently drove with my eleven-year-old son down a street we are used to traveling. He still brings it up!!

I think a person is warped who elevates self above all things and loses sight of what he was meant to be. We can be warped by others and we can encourage the warp in ourselves. It is not limited to gays, by any means.

I very much agree. And I'm also very grateful for the revolution.

Just the other day I was helping my 11 year-old with some homework on Rosa Parks and the Montgomery bus boycott. He's in grade 6 now and this isn't the first time he's studied this. I was trying to make him understand how it was a pivotal point, this happened in my lifetime, how it helped to make the society we live in today, yada, yada. He nods but it's still one more piece of "history" to him at this point. I don't think he'll get it til he's an adult.

I'd like to hope we can re-capture the best of the 50s-60's -- the sense of personal responsibility, the suppression of personal benefit for the common good, the practicing of social courtesies, adults acting like adults -- and marry it to the greater civil rights and tolerance and acceptance of differences of today.

I think it's dangerous, however, to apply one's own template to what someone else is meant to be.

My mom refused to wear a girdle. And she did not wear hats and gloves. Unless she was going to church or had a special occasion, she wore pants. She did complain a little that some women criticized her for doing so... but she really did not care that much about what they thought. In the summer, she wore shorts; in the early sixties, sometimes she wore the then-popular shift, which required only sandals. And never, never twinsets.

She was always well-groomed, however, and fit and trim and fashionable.

I was also born in 1952, so these are my memories of my mother throughout the fifties. We lived in California.

Oh, to add: My dad never wore a hat. He did have a flattop and cuffed jeans, however!

Your mother wore pants in public in the fifties?? I protested for the right to wear pants to school in 9th grade (1971, I think)

My mother always wore a bra and a garter belt (not an ooo la la thing, a functional undergarment in white, and the kind that covered the abdomen) and stockings, and yes, a hat and gloves for church -- not for every day activities -- at least into the early 60's.

How did you survive the heat? Well -- talc, for one. Aside from that, you suffered. But at that point it was more unusual for white ladies at least to have to spend too much time outside the house. If you worked, you did an 8 hour day if that. (Speaking "normally, usually and generally" -- I'm sure there were some exceptions). I don't recall most men having to work as many hours either. So you put your gear on while you were in public and took it off the second you got home. Remember the "house dress"?

Absolutely, and I even have the pictures to prove it! She sewed for herself and us and had quite the wardrobe of capris, or "pedal pushers." Sometimes hers and mine matched.

As for housedresses, my mother would not have been caught dead in one.

OMG, you, too? A condition of my going to public high school was that I would dress as though I were attending a Catholic girls' school. My parents didn't relent until the 10th grade.

You know, this talk of women wearing trousers reminds me that my grandmother would let her daughters wear jeans only if they wore them under a dress. Yes, under an actual dress. I have the photos to prove they really did it, too.

I gather it was typical on southern campuses in the 1950s to require that the women students only wear shorts under a raincoat. Rather defeats the purpose! Aside from having that certain flasher appeal.

Hillsboro, Oregon? I grew up in Sherwood, just a hop, skip and a jump away. Dave, if your mother had stayed there, we might be neighbors now!

I only remember from about the mid sixties on, and I have to reiterate what other posters have said. Life in a small town then was pretty tame, although I'm sure there were plenty of bad things happening (wife beatings, child abuse etc), it was not in the public eye or discussed. It simply wasn't anyones business but the family involved. If a marriage failed, it was the wifes fault. If a child got smacked, it was because they "deserved it". Yes, life was simpler, but at what cost?

Well, capris are hardly trousers. Much more form-fitting, and made of any kind of cloth, and more feminine than menswear.

She was ahead of her time. She dressed young, and refused to adopt matronly attire. Even to go to PTA meetings with (gasp) a nun or two presiding. Or to parent teacher night.

As for jeans... I don't recall her wearing jeans until the 1960s.

Me too! I started this big school debate that we should be allowed to at least wear pants in the winter time. I was in 9th grade - 1975. The headmaster called my mother and told her he thought I had some problem accepting being a female!! However, that debate started the ball rolling and eventually the rules were changed to girls could wear pants if it snowed, then they could wear pants it if was below 50 degrees, till finally they could wear pants any time - but the finally ruling was made after I had already graduated!

People wore shorts in the 50's. NOT everybody in the 50's always wore hate, gloves etc. Only for the occasion and a certain sect of people did.

Of course! But women undergraduates on certain campuses, including FSU, couldn't be seen wearing shorts. The raincoat coverup was de rigueur. Once they got off campus, the raincoat could come off.

Isabellabird, did you attend FSU? I was there in the late '60s.

I wish! Florida seems like a lot more fun, and certainly warmer, than going to school in Connecticut.

No the 50's weren't perfect. Hasn't anyone been watching Mad Men?!! ;-) A very thin veneer.

Drink was the drug of choice .... and then there was the Big Hangover. Civil rights, Vietnam, Divorce,
Feminism and The Generation Gap !!!!

I think Mom felt that young men of the Fifties were more masculine and seemly in appearance and behavior-- before the rise of things like long hair, bell bottoms, t-shirts, sandals, chunky belts, beards, psychedelic colors, beads/jewelry/earrings, high-heeled shoes, and other accoutrements thought to be effeminate and/or narcissistic.

My Mom says: "in the Fifties, only loose women, Mexicans and gypsies had pierced ears." [Bigoted and shocking-sounding today, but there ya go.]

Mom's version of the Fifties seems idyllic, though her own homelife was riven with some particularly nasty alcoholism, which, though the family tried to keep it a secret, became "known" to her classmates... which absolutely destroyed my Mom emotionally as a teen... This being the day that keeping up appearances was de rigueur, and no self-respecting family could sort of "opt out" of society and its strictures... (and hope to retain a job, to keep functioning at school, clubs, church, organizations, etc.) Nowadays, I think it's safe to say that many American families can, and do, "opt out" if they want to.

My Dad, showing me his 1964 college yearbook, pointed out the rotunda at the University Of Texas and said, "...and this is where all the fags hung out, trying to pick each other up." I was surprised (not by his bigotry, which was legendary) but because I had never known that gays were at all "visible as such" in 1964.

My folks were definitely NOT raised in the era of P.C.... Everyone "knew his/her place", which was (supposedly) intuitively obvious to all and sundry.

The Fifties were probably perfect if you happened to be middle class upward WASPs.

Another funny vignette Mom tells: "When I came to Texas in 1960, no-one 'landscaped' back then... Everybody's house was surrounded just by dirt, sand and scrubby lawns... few bushes or trees. And no-one had private swimming pools in those days. When I met your Dad, his folks would sometimes go check us into a local highway motel, just so we could swim in their pool for the day. I've photos of us doing that somewhere around here."



Mom says, "I couldn't get over how 'behind' Texas was in every single thing: We'd turn on the transistor radio and hear things that had been hits over two years earlier back in Oregon. Like Buddy Holly. And they were playing them like they were the newest thing. I'd say to your Dad and his friends, "Are you guys still listening to this stuff??" Same with fashions: Texas girls were wearing things that we'd abandoned four or five years earlier back in Oregon, like espadrilles."


[I imagine that today there is not so much of a cultural lag between the different regions of the USA as there was then... The modern media, in its copious ubiquity, has probably "tightened" things in that regard...]

Add "heterosexual" to that, and I'll agree.

Vestiges of 1950's sensibilities lingered into the late-60's, early-70's where I lived: I remember, when I was eight, I had a crush on a little girl my same age named Sherry Hartenstine. I'd go to her house, and we'd play LITE-BRITE, KER-PLUNK!, COOTIE or the GAME OF LIFE. But always in her living room. Once she invited me to her bedroom, a pink perfumed ruffled place, to see her doll collection... Her mother scolded us almost severely! "Sherry does not have young men in her bedroom!" her Mother sternly warned us.

What she imagined two eight-year-olds would or could get up to that would be so undesirable, I'm not sure...

I was born in the mid 50s too. My memories are all good. The main thing I remember is you knew everyone in the street, and the next street. The sense of community was wonderful. As such a young child, I was a wanderer, and often went for long walks. I would arrive at someone's house and they would say "Does your mum know you're here?" "No". They would just tell me to turn around and go home, which I would. Today you would gather up the child and drive them home. There certainly are some differences, and I do miss that, and I had the same sense of community in the 60s growing up.

Reiha, I would not narrow it down to that one group, at least not in the area of NJ where I grew up. My family and neighbourhood were not upper middle class WASPs at all, and while there was that demographic in the town, it was just part of the mix. I lived in a moderate-income racially and culturally mixed neighbourhood with people from many backgrounds. The "niceties" of life went across class, race or cultural background.

Yes.

Here (Atlanta) everything just slowed way down in the summer. The older houses still have "sleeping porches" -- this is where screened porches came from -- and the houses were built for ventilation, and had ceiling fans and all kinds of other fans. Clothing was made of cotton, as lightweight as possible (seersucker, for example), or linen -- which I wear in summer, as nothing is cooler. Undershirts were to soak up the sweat before it got to the outer shirt; my grandmother even had slips and other lingerie made of very lightweight plisse cotton.

Nevertheless, it was uncomfortable -- I remember the first few weeks of grade school, hot as hell in the classrooms, with yellow-jackets flying around because all the windows had to be wide open. The girls still had to wear dresses then. We were so glad to see those first cool days! (Also, men wore those suits, just not their jackets in the summer.)

But you just lived through it. There was no alternative, so we didn't whine about it. People came out of their houses in the evenings, sat on porches (or later, on their "carports" and talked to their neighbors while their kids played together. It was as different from modern life as can be imagined.

Once in a while we'll have trouble with our air-conditioning system, and we'll have to live that way for a day or two while we wait for the repairman. Open windows, ceiling fans, iced tea, sitting outside until late at night. You can hear all the night sounds; the bugs and tree frogs and even owls screeching or hooting. I wouldn't want to reprise that all the time, but it's a nice reminder of how things used to be before we all got so isolated.

Probably "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours." That's what the boy across the street and I did, except it was in the yard and we were seven.

Were they perfect?

Well, I guess they were, unless you were black, gay, of any obvious ethnicity other than white/caucasian, and anything other than middle to upper class.

I hardly know where to begin! I'm old enough to remember the late 50's and early 60's. There was a lot going on under the surface of those placid suburbs. Did anybody have a "confirmed bachelor" uncle? A "swinging bachelor" teacher? Guess what -- they were gay, and forced to slink around, hiding everything they were. How about the relative who always got drunk at Thanksgiving and made a scene? The girl in school who suddenly found it necessary to vist her aunt in Cleveland for six or seven months? I think "Mad Men" hits it right on.

Regarding safety in the streets: for awhile, I lived in Franco-era Spain. Wow, were things ever safe! The Guardia Civil was everywhere, with their tommy guns and mastiff dogs and flat-backed hats. Of course, one didn't dare bring up anything political, or controversial, but you sure could walk down the street late at night!

Regarding gay pride parades: When a bubble bursts after centuries of repression, it's going to burst big. If I was a gay man, I'd be embarrased at some of these guys' antics, but can certainly see the reasons for them. I have no interest in going to the parade, but I have a choice, so I don't go.

Regarding modern coarseness: yeah, a lot of it makes me sick too. But I hear rumblings. I read something in the NY Times the other day about the show "Californication" and the characters' constant foul language; the tone was "enough already!" When I lived out there, that particular thing was ubiquitous. I've even had to caution my bother-in-law, when he visits Atlanta, that we really just don't use the F-word three times in every sentence; it's kind of refreshing, actually, to have to come up with other words.

I'm sick of modern American culture, too. But, as someone else here said, it could be that the pendulum has swung all the way over. I worked in Hollywood, and found that a lot of the creative culture there is utterly cynical, and sees themselves as way outside the mainstream culture, and so a lot of the media product is a way of thumbing the nose at that culture. But hey, it's not as though the mainstream culture doesn't give them plenty of material! Elect George W. Bush president (well the first time was a coup but you get the idea) twice.You have to admit that it's all pretty good fodder.

Remember "Mad" magazine? I cut my teeth on it. From "Mad" to "Mad Men" -- a long strange trip, as Jerry would say.

My dear friend Patricia, now about 70, was leading me through her family photo album. Mostly shiny black and whites, but some faded, reddened snapshots from the Fifties.

I alighted on one photo: a portly woman of about 60, standing next to a a sprawling rosebush, her demure, kindly face, wreathed in a grey coiffure, cocked genteely to one side. March 1957 the photo's border read.

"And who's this?" I asked Pat.

"Oh, that was my aunt Barbara. She was married so many times, we couldn't keep up with her."

"What was she like?"

"Oh, she was an old Lesbian and an old hooker."



"Patricia!" I chided gently in surprise.

"Oh, but she was, she was." Pat replied, unsmilingly. "She took in a young black woman and told the neighbors that she was the new maid... but it was really her lover."