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My aunt had a neighbor, befriended by my mom, who was known as "Depression Helen." Every time the three would meet for coffee and cake, the recounts of their impoverished childhood memories would pour forth faster than the percolated Maxwell House. Helen was always the one with the most dramatic accounts. Since my mom and aunt both grew up with their parents on relief (at times), or Granddad working for the WPA, that says a lot.
^^^^^^
A sort of reverse one-upmanship, eh? One-downwomanship, in this case.
"You think you had it rough, sister? Lemme tell you about rough."
There remains a fashion among some young people from comfortable circumstances to affect a sort of street cred their limited experience of anything other than warm beds and full bellies couldn't have possibly bestowed upon them. They were around when I was that age, and they are surely around now. These days they're given to dreadlocks and tattoos. When I was that age it was patched-up Levi's and old panel trucks.
People who experienced truly hard circumstances don't wish to ever go back to it, nor appear in any way that they are once again in such straits. My grandfather, who supported a family of six all through the Depression, always had a late-model car in his later years, and a well-maintained, "respectable" home.
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