The Stranger

[Guest guest]

Nicely done, thanks Pan Man

Good stuff, Dan!

& Citizen

& : Blaine

@ MySpace-----------------------------

The Stranger

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to

our small Texas 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 longtime 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 in

America !** He has a wife now....We call her " Computer. "

Take care, and God Bless America!!

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