Interesting...worth a repeat.
Jim
A few years after I was born, my Dad met a
stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning,
Dad was fascinated with this
enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our
family.
The stranger was quickly
accepted and was around from then on.
As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my
family. In my young mind, he had a special
niche.
My parents were
complementary instructors: Mom
taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me
to obey.
But the stranger...
he was our storyteller. He would
keep us spellbound for hours on end with
adventures, mysteries and comedies.
If I wanted to
know anything about politics, history
or science, he always knew the answers about
the past, understood the present and even seemed
able to
predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh,
and he made
me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but
Dad didn't seem to mind.
Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest
of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to
say,
and she would
go to the kitchen for peace and quiet.
(I wonder now if she
ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)
Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions,
but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them.
Profanity, for
example, was not allowed in our home - not from us, our
friends or any visitors..
Our long time visitor, however,
got away with four-letter words that burned my ears
and made my
dad squirm and my mother blush.
My Dad didn't permit
the liberal use of alcohol but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a
regular basis.
He made cigarettes look
cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.
He talked freely
(much too freely!) about sex. His comments were
sometimes blatant,
sometimes
suggestive, and generally embarrassing..
I now know that my early concepts about relationships
were influenced strongly by the stranger.
Time after time, he opposed the
values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked
....
And NEVER asked to leave.
More than fifty years have passed since the
stranger moved in with our family.
He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first.
Still, if you could walk into my parents'
den today, you would still find him sitting over
in his corner, waiting for someone to listen
to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.
His name?....We
just call him 'TV.'
He has a wife now....we call her 'Computer.'
Their first child is "Cell Phone".
Second child "I Pod "
And
JUST BORN THIS YEAR WAS a Grandchild: IPAD