The  Stranger 
              
   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 honour 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.' 
   (Note:  This should be required reading for every household!) 
    He  has a wife now....we call her'Computer.'  Their  first child is"Cell  Phone". 
   Second  child "I Pod “  
    And BORN A FEW YEARS AGO WAS a  Grandchild: “ IPAD”  |