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INVASION OF PRIVACY
By MICK TERRY
from Sherman Oaks,CA

7/8/2003
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While out on a run on a great balmy day,
I had stopped by a yard sale just to see what I'd save.
As I chat with the wife, then her husband and girl,
we had much in common in our own separate worlds.


I thought we'd made inroads & I'd found some new friends.
& I told them I'd come back with some money to spend.
But that didn't happen. I got tied to the phone.
So, a couple days later, I ran by their home.


So, into the mail slot, I dropped off the words
of a song we'd discussed they might like if they heard.
After church the next Sunday, I stopped by to say, "Hi",
but the wife's cold reception was enough to make ice.


There's an invasion of privacy here.
Like a lot of things, it's grounded in fear.
There's an invasion of privacy here.
And you’re not wanted.


Just being friendly doesn't go very far
in a city whose purpose is the bright shooting star:
where favors are collected like pearls on a string,
& friendships developed for the contacts they'll bring.


'Though she said he's not there, by the time I got home,
her husband was ringing me up on the phone,
saying, "Not to be rude, but we’re quite private here.
"And we'd really prefer if you didn’t come near."


'Though I'd recently moved from the opposite coast,
my new neighbor's words hit me harder than most.
For the rest of my life, I hope they don't feel too slighted
if, for all of my parties, they're never invited.


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