LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
from a jolly Saturday afternoon tormenting cats and tipping over birdbaths with my pals, and, before I was halfway up the front walk, I’d hear: “No TV for a week!” It hardly came as a shock when they taught us in Sunday school that “God is watching.” Mom had gotten there before Him. Yes, God might – in some future too distant to be imagined – send us to hell. But He never smacked us on the butt with a wooden kitchen spoon. Much less did God wait until our fathers got home and tell them our sins so that we got a real whooping. Plus we were also taught in Sunday school that “God is Love.” And that He would “forgive us our trespasses,” certainly including
the foray into Mrs. Pulaski’s yard where we cracked the head off her garden gnome with our Wham-O slingshots. And Mom, of course, was nothing but love. Can anything be as secure as a mother’s love? Whatever we’d done, she got over it. Dad, too. By the time he’d had his second highball he’d forgotten all about giving us a real whooping and was out in the kitchen saying to Mom, “Boys will be boys... “ Then – to further muddle our attitudes about Security-and-Surveillance – there was Santa Claus. You better watch out, you better not cry, Better not pout, I’m telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town.
8 March 2018
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