When I was five or six years old, living in our last home in Los Angeles, I started to develop my social skills. We lived on a street with many other children, and every day was spent playing in groups outdoors. On occasion, we ventured into one another’s homes and compared lifestyles.
I remember marveling at a bedroom shared by two sisters who had not only their own record player, as I did, but also their own couch and small television. Imagine! A television in a kid’s bedroom! To me this was incredible, a sign of a truly luxurious life. When I expressed my astonishment, asking if their parents really let them have their own TV, one of the sisters replied “of course” in a tone implying that everyone in the world had their own television in their bedroom.
