(Sent to me by our friend, Bob Snelling) The story resembles a story I remember from my own childhood as this same stranger came to our home. Did he also come to yours?
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
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
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.
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“Mobile Phone“.
Second child “I Pod ”
And JUST BORN WAS a Grandchild:
OH MY—-HOW TRUE THIS IS
And he has a relative called“the Movies” that we went to visit as a family for years then the time came when we could no longer go together because of the language and other things he did and said…