little Timmy

— Suburbanites were uniformly young in the late fifties. Everybody was married; everybody had children. Like birds of a feather, we were eager to join up with the flock. Magazines and television had been promoting the image for almost ten years: Saturday-night backyard barbecues with friends; neighbors sharing freshly baked coffee cakes; a wide sidewalk for little Timmy to ride his tricycle. The perfect life, and most of us wanted it.