The Stranger!

[Mike B.]

The Stranger:

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger
who was new to our small Kansas 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."

He has a wife now....We call her "Computer."

[wordsmythe]

You know what ELSE is called a stranger don't you?

[Mike B.]

Originally Posted by wordsmythe

You know what ELSE is called a stranger don't you?

What's that Wordy?

[The Drifter]

basically what you do is you.....well i guess in good taste i shouldn't say

[KONQ RADIO]

One of the slang words in Mexico for the television equates to 'diversion'