This for relief -- when you can't """"take"" the headlines and the radio for a time. It's for the less conservative, less reverential and more ""natural"" Life with Father market, and can be -- for that market -- recommended as light hearted, high handed, eyebrow raising memoirs, which take all the dust off the plush. Franklin Street is a big off Philadelphia's Rittenhouse Square, where the Goodmans, and other Pentlefolk, participated in some ingratiatingly ribald, riotous and unrespectable episodes fifty years ago. You will meet Father, who tipples on all occasions, japes or vituperates intermittently and gives in on none. And there is Mother, the perfect palliative for the perfect bachelor. You will meet their neighbors, a judge and a professional gambler -- until the judge sold out to Rabbi Gelsenfarb, substituting a pious fraud for a legal one. There is Joe, mother's brother, whose alcoholic tendencies depreciate property values, and Esther, Philip's first love, and Schimmel, who surprised himself with a foundling on his doorstep. You'll attend the local burlesque, where Philip learned, and the institute of dramatic art and correct posture, where Philip did not learn; and you'll have a very good but definitely unorthodox, time.