I miss back when...

originally posted January 24, 2008


When the doorbell rang the other morning, I wondered who it could be. I wasn't expecting anyone, after all. So I went to the door, opened it, and found myself face to face with those visitors we're never expecting but still get from time to time. I'm talking, of course, about "religious" visitors; these happened to be Jehova's Witnesses. They began to give the spiel and I was perfectly content to humor them by listening when I heard a voice behind me offering the "thanks, but no-thanks" brush-off accompanied by a meager excuse as to why we simply had no time for a mini-sermon at the moment. Why do we give those, anyways? We know, deep down, that they know that it's really not true (trust me; they know) AND we just lied, which means we probably DO nead to hear what they have to say, after all! Anyways... After I had to shut the door, apologetically mind you, I was admonished (like a child...) to first ascertain the identity of the person(s) on the other side and then exercise judgement as to whether or not to open. Why? Because answering the door could be dangerous, of course. Please! The new face of terror: middle-aged women toting religious tracts! In all seriosness, though, it had never occurred to me that I should be worried when answeing the door. I didn't grow up learning to be afraid. My parents only locked the doors at night when we were sleeping; not when we left the house for the day and certainly not when we were home. In fact, I got my first "house" key ever when I moved into the dorms.

Am I aware of the existence of bad people in the world? Of course; I read the paper everyday. It just stuck me so profoundly today that "I miss back when..."