But one day, you realize you haven't had mashed potatoes and gravy in years. And when you suddenly discover it again, on a visit to your aunt in Tennessee or however, you're amazed by how good it tastes, by how filling it is, and at the good memories it evokes of family togetherness, sharing, and security. Now it may well be that those memories are bogus. That our families were distant or disapproving, and our homes filled with strife and anxiety. That only the food was good.
Longing beats reality every time.
The honest working man standing up at town meeting saying all the good, true things we feel in our hearts but are too cowardly to say. That's what Norman Rockwell gives us. It's the visual equivalent of Mom's meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Not so much our idealism as the idea of our idealism. Of course, life was never as simple and safe as all that.