There was so much of it in the day, and now it has all but disappeared from the scene. My old friend John Parks used to load milk trucks in the late 50’s and early 60’s and told the other guys that he would get “real job” when he got married, which he did. He went on to sell insurance; at least it was a real job! The other guys at the milk plant laughed at him because he was giving up a good job, which ended a few years later when milk delivery ended.
The milk man also delivered, if you wanted it, butter, ice cream or any milk product. He put it into a metal, insulated box on the porch, of course, and everyone had one. Gone is the egg man or lady, who brought fresh eggs every week, brown or white.
In Baltimore they had (or still have) street A-rabs. A meandering group of people who sell products purchased in the morning at the wholesale markets and sold throughout the alleys of Baltimore. It included vegetables, fruit and seafood!
The word arab in the sense of a peddler appears to derive from street arab, or, according to the unabridged Webster’s New International Dictionary, a “homeless vagabond in the streets of a city or esp. an outcast boy or girl era.
This association of wanderers with Arabs likely reflects the sense of the nomadic life historically led by the peoples on the Arabian Peninsula. By extension, the person wandering the streets has been transformed from a vagrant to a vendor. The term street arab has fallen largely into disuse over the past century.
the Baltimore street peddlers are to be referred to as A-rabs, not Arabs, is a means of differentiating the local patois from the ethnic term. Whatever stereotypes of Arabs may be current in American culture, the Baltimore terms, A-rab and Arabber, indicate a respect for people who work very hard to make a living, and also an affectionate respect for a local tradition.
My Grandmother waited patiently for the fish man who had an open truck with packed ice and fish on top so she could be assured of fresh fish. As well, many A-rabbers used rented horse and wagons to ply their wares.
We had a butcher, Mr. Pete who came once a week to our house in Pikesville, MD, with great products and a chopping block etc. for special needs. We had a group of women who would come to our house to meet up with him as he had no extra stops left on his route. Mr. Pete, a kid’s favorite, was a neighborhood phenomenon.
At this point the only thing still delivered in the newspaper and pizza. The newspaper seems to be a dying thing sadly, and pizza and other food items are an obvious add on to the cost, not a built in expense.
I was reminded about this today when I had noticed that our morning newspaper has been put very carefully in the mailbox paper holder, (where it belongs) for the past two weeks, along with a Christmas card from the carrier. Today, it’s back on the driveway!
The milk man also delivered, if you wanted it, butter, ice cream or any milk product. He put it into a metal, insulated box on the porch, of course, and everyone had one. Gone is the egg man or lady, who brought fresh eggs every week, brown or white.
In Baltimore they had (or still have) street A-rabs. A meandering group of people who sell products purchased in the morning at the wholesale markets and sold throughout the alleys of Baltimore. It included vegetables, fruit and seafood!
The word arab in the sense of a peddler appears to derive from street arab, or, according to the unabridged Webster’s New International Dictionary, a “homeless vagabond in the streets of a city or esp. an outcast boy or girl era.
This association of wanderers with Arabs likely reflects the sense of the nomadic life historically led by the peoples on the Arabian Peninsula. By extension, the person wandering the streets has been transformed from a vagrant to a vendor. The term street arab has fallen largely into disuse over the past century.
the Baltimore street peddlers are to be referred to as A-rabs, not Arabs, is a means of differentiating the local patois from the ethnic term. Whatever stereotypes of Arabs may be current in American culture, the Baltimore terms, A-rab and Arabber, indicate a respect for people who work very hard to make a living, and also an affectionate respect for a local tradition.
My Grandmother waited patiently for the fish man who had an open truck with packed ice and fish on top so she could be assured of fresh fish. As well, many A-rabbers used rented horse and wagons to ply their wares.
We had a butcher, Mr. Pete who came once a week to our house in Pikesville, MD, with great products and a chopping block etc. for special needs. We had a group of women who would come to our house to meet up with him as he had no extra stops left on his route. Mr. Pete, a kid’s favorite, was a neighborhood phenomenon.
At this point the only thing still delivered in the newspaper and pizza. The newspaper seems to be a dying thing sadly, and pizza and other food items are an obvious add on to the cost, not a built in expense.
I was reminded about this today when I had noticed that our morning newspaper has been put very carefully in the mailbox paper holder, (where it belongs) for the past two weeks, along with a Christmas card from the carrier. Today, it’s back on the driveway!
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