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.' (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 JUST BORN LAST YEAR WAS a        Grandchild:  IPAD HOW        TRUE THIS IS!!!