Tag: John F. Stith Sr.

If I Were Boss Of Everything

My father, John F. Stith Sr., who was born in 1895 and quit school after the 7th grade, had a lot of opinions, like a lot of people.  Only he wrote some of his down in a notebook he titled: “What I Would Do If I Were The Boss of Everything.”

The rule changes he suggested to  improve boxing matches and basketball games were pretty radical.  I’ll get to those bye and bye. He also commented on sex, which is where I’ll begin.

“Congenitally, every female has some attractions for the male of the species, to say nothing of what the male has to offer to the female,” my father wrote.

No touching!
No touching!

“So far as I know there is only one exception to this rule. The female fish lays her eggs and the male swims over them and fertilizes them. There is no physical contact between the male and female fish.”

“This probably gave rise to the expression, ‘the poor fish.'”

* * *

Here’s what he had to say about changing styles — Bermudas for ladies, then shorts, then short shorts, then hot pants — and what  he called “a merchandising thought.”

Texas Cowgirl cheerleader
Dallas Cowboys cheerleader

“These [hot pants] were not accurately named as there was scarcely enough cloth used to keep a fly warm, much less hot. It seems that the people who dictate [and I do mean dictate] fashions for ladies bow down to the idea of less cloth, more woman.”

“I would rather my woman would keep at least something secret and out of public view. Then I could get the shivers from anticipating the full show for me and me alone.”

“A merchandising thought, ‘Don’t put all your merchandise in the show window.'”

Coming Monday: Speaking in Tongues

 

“I Doubt That!”

My Dad, John F. Stith Sr., could multiply whole numbers and fractions in his head, like 7 1/4 times 18 7/8, almost instantaneously. But his formal education ended when he was 13 years old, in January 1909.

He told me that after he finished the 7th grade he quit school and went to work. There were seven kids in his family and his father was dead — he killed himself when Dad was 10 years old.

John F. Stith Sr. We have no photos of Dad for long period. This one was taken in 1963, when I was 22.
John F. Stith Sr. We have no photos of Dad for long periods of  time This one was taken in 1964, when I was 22.

After that, my father’s education came from the School of Hard Knocks, the local newspaper, and The World Almanac.  He kept a copy of the almanac beside his easy chair and studied it.

After supper some nights, he would play a game with us, telling stories, mixing in stuff he had read in the almanac with stuff he made up. Our job was to separate the two.

When I thought he was making it up, I would say, “I doubt that.”

[You never said, “I think you’re lying.” Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?  No one called my Dad a liar and remained unharmed.]

The 2011 edition of my father's textbook.
The 2011 edition of my father’s textbook.

If I was right, he would change the story around, and move on. If I was wrong, he would say, “Go get the almanac. Go to page 212 [or some other page], about half way down. Start reading. No, not there. The paragraph above that one.”

What I read would be, almost word for word, what he had just said.

As it turned out, this was basic training for my life’s work.  When I grew up I became a newspaperman, an investigative reporter.

I conducted hundreds of hostile interviews where people were often untruthful. I would listen carefully to their answers, looking for deception, and when I found it I wanted to say those words out loud:  “I doubt that!”

Coming Monday: Running Wild