the stranger

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 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