The last thing I need from you is the portrayal of a greasy Eurotrash white suburban family which cruises around in a freaking Volvo compared to the people who worked from dawn to dusk in the mills. Give us a fricking break.
Oh, wait, maybe I'm being unfair. Let's see- both this family and the mill family wake up before dawn. Sure, one does that to make Espresso and get the children up, cleaned, clothed and off to school while the other ate last night's leftover scraps before trudging off for another 12-hour day surrounded by the incessant noise and cotton or coal dust of the mill, but that's just splitting hairs. Sure, one family bundles into the Volvo while the other walks through the dark morning to the factory gates, but again- splitting hairs. Sure, one will get two days out of every seven off for rest and relaxation from their office jobs while the other worked on average 6 and a half days per week at grindingly hard, dangerous work, but AGAIN I need to stop being so pedantic. This really is an Apples to Apples comparison here, really.
So I'm going to stop being infuriated at the comparison of a wealthy family living in luxury in the American suburbs to the masses of half-starved, overworked, underpaid, oft-injured laborers who shook off sickness, weariness and a heavy sense of helplessness to get to the mill every morning to put food on the table. After all, that first family owns a Volvo, not a Lexus or Audi. Hard times in the mill, indeed.