Last night, dad and I were watching TV. Dad compulsively changes the channel looking for something to watch. It drives mom crazy and she will have to leave the room. Well, dad stopped on a channel with a very Charismatic preacher preaching.
“That’s Danny,” dad said. “I went to school with him. Class of ‘64.”
You could tell it was a local channel due to the poor quality of the picture. It looked washed out and grainy. Well, Danny was going at it; preaching hell fire and brimstone.
“I know he means well,” dad said. “But he comes across as kind of crazy!”
I kindly laughed. Dad did have a point. He had got to preaching so hard and loudly that his hair had become disheveled.
“You ought to reunite with him and go to church,” I told dad jokingly.
“I haven’t stepped foot in a church in twenty years except for funerals,” dad replied.
“You’re the one who needs to go to church!” dad said. “Maybe God can help with your addictions.”
“Organized religion,” I said musingly. “It’s a touchy subject for me. That’s why I’ve always had an aversion to AA and NA.”
I pestered dad one more time about that flatscreen television. He said he would continue to think about it. He hadn’t left for 30 minutes when he called me.
“Come get the television,” he told me. “Take good care of it though. That TV cost $600 dollars.”
I sped to mom and dad’s to pick it up. I hadn’t been so excited since my iPod.