A Father's Ideologies
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A Father’s Ideologies


Children today have lousy penmanship. They can print like hell, though.
We may become a nation of printers. {YES!!!} Someday,
some smart guy is going to say, “let’s teach penmanship in school.”
He will be famous as the first man to be drowned in a gigantic ink­well.

Then along will come his successor, a man with 4 college degrees but can’t write.
We are progressing at the rate of one ink-well every generation.


My life has been, since high school days, a series of ups and downs.
Often, I have wished for a life which would carry along at a steady relaxed pace;
and a minimum of anxiety and insecurity. But, I realize that,
if one is going to become an individualist he must always share anxiety and insecurity.

The reward is greater (as far as I am concerned)
in hitting at least one high spot in my life than working at drudgery year after year.

This is, I suppose, a. desire “to be” than a “never be”,
as far as accomplishments are concerned.

The big problem here is, that “to be” one must be a constant companion of
drudgery before he becomes, “to be.”

Then he must become a cauldron of anxiety and insecurity to hold status quo.

From Thinkr1: My Father – 1970 something.

creative writing, Thinkr8, writing

A Written Thought Of A Time Thought.

… this in just 5 minutes of time.

Time of Time Times. – June 11 · 18

I put blooming flowers in my food because God told me to do so, when I was listening to dubstep music while painting and moving furniture, all the while I was traveling to Baltimore, Maryland City, DC and Virginia. As a result I looked up into the sky and knew I was an amateur astronomer. The politics of it said, I was a “Grumbletonian”.


And because I’m “Fudgel”, I couldn’t really contemplate the Floridian language.


Now that I have written this I’ve concluded I maybe a “Ultracrepidarian”.


Or perhaps I’m just “Zwodder”.


The Star Wars are my Father, while the enterprise is my ship.

I couldn’t make a post that made any sense because my omelets tasted really fantastic with Feta cheese. I can no longer be serious, because I’m silly and we are just simulations running around as if we know what we are doing. No really, this is just a test.

– Rock n Roll – Peace –

The Featured image means nothing to this post!

Don’t read this.

Wait, What, too late, you did already. Sorry. My Bad! –

image’s – courtesy


Happy Thanksgiving America

Author, Books, creative writing, Daddy, Father, Mother, Parents, Publishing, Quotes, Writer

A Father (Daddy) Remembered

Thinkr1 – Milton James Smith Sr. singer, songwriter, film-maker, humorist, and author.

Also known as “Smitty, EmJay Ess, Rolfe Smith, Billy Dawn Smith,
Bootlip, and Euchalyptus Rscinskinovitch, was born in Manchester
New Hampshire in 1924. He served his country four years in the Marie Corps,
during World War II. At one time during the war he was stationed in China.
In October of 1946 he met Doris Maria Dudley of New Bern, North Carolina
and in January of 1947 they were married. He and his wife then moved to
New Hampshire. In 1953, with four children in tow, they moved to Maryland.

A Father (Daddy) Remembered

He wrote many song’s during the 1950’s and 1960’s and appeared on television, once as a singer. In 1961, he, his wife and now eight children moved to Laurel, Maryland.
Two more children were born in Laurel. As a free-lance writer many of his articles appeared in the Laurel Leader. Two feature articles about him appeared in the Laurel Leader. One in the summer of 1979 and the other in 1980.
His writing’s for this book were written over a period of 25 years. Milton J. Smith Sr. passed on May 19th 1983.

Some content of the book have been left out (private), All content here-in was made public in the Laurel News Leader. circa, 1960’s – 1980’s

Aluminum Barons

In the early 1980’s my father was famous for reviving recycling aluminum before it became popular in the 1990’s. In 1979 he was on his way toward’s recycling (son-of). How? His car was a can crusher. He would drive over the cans repeatedly, thereby smashing them into crumpled square pieces of aluminum. … More


He Can’t Win For Losing
Laurel Leader
Dec, 1962

To the Editor,

Almost every day in any newspaper one may read someone has won a divorce.” The article is certain to continue and state the material items “awarded”, neglecting the fact that the breakup of marriage is a loss of love and social prestige.
(Ask the winners if you don’t believe me.)… More

Families Mean Something

Certainly, we hear parents whose children have left home state they would not want to be rearing children in the world of today. It appears this statement may be assessed as a lack of confidence in their own children. Thankfully, the myriad aspects of family life are greatly outnumbered by more pleasant circumstances than bad. … More

Father’s Day Origins

In 1924 the Ca1lener Bible Class of Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania selected the dandelion as the flower to be worn on Father’s Day because “the more it is trampled on the more it grows.” Its use did not become general which is something for all fathers to be thankful. … More

Focus On People

Dr. Thomas Lederman, whose at-home visits to his patients racks up thousands of miles annually, didn’t mind traveling to Washington D.C.

Dr. Tommy, a Laurel resident and veterinarian for six years, … More

Great Mom’s Here And Far

There is no record of Miss Anna Jarvis becoming a mother. No one person, however, had more to do with this upcoming Sunday’s celebration. It was Miss Jarvis of Grafton, West Virginia, who originated Mother’s Day. In 1907 she was in Philadelphia and persuaded the children of her church to honor their mothers by wearing a white carnation to the services. In later years red flowers were worn to indicate a living mother and a… More

Horse Jockey Without A Horse

“I’m not a race rider but I am a horse jockey. My pony is a giant of the highways, a cab-over tractor sitting on 190 horses pulling a 12- horse van. I’m equally proud of those giants of the Turf which have been safely jockeyed into stalls on the rig I operate. Lucky Debonair, Lt. Stevens and Gun Bow have been among my history-making passengers. … More

The Longest Hayride In History

When Leon Gillis’ neighbors asked him the purpose of the covered wagon he was building in his back yard he answered, “I’m going on a hayride.” … More

Proposed Taxi Rates Aired At Hearing

August, with its hot, humid weather is noted as the ‘zany month’ which impels people to perform bizarre acts. This year that period of summer arrived July 12, at the Prince George’s County Commis­sioners hearing on proposed taxicab rate increases.

The hearing appeared to become a political testing ground for two members … More

The Taxicab Story Part One

“Stawinski Says … “

Two passengers entered a certain Prince George’s County cab whereupon the taxi driver rang up 20 cents extra on the meter. Complaint of the extra charge was met with the driver’s response, “Slawinski says that’s the extra charge for an extra passenger, and there you see it.” … More

The Taxicab Story Part Two

“Stawinski Says…”

A brief history of cabs in Laurel reveals Arnold’s Cab Company, founded September 22,1926, to be the first full time cab service for this area. Previous to Arnold’ s, horses and carriages were available for hire, with or without driver, from the livery stables at the junctions of US 1 and Main Street. … More


Late in 1977, my father pursued a hobby because a back injury forced him to retire from truck-driving. He prayed for a hobby that was original, something no one else was doing.

In the spring of 1978 the “know-how” of wood bending was born in his mind.
He is quoted as saying; “I really feel this is God-given.” … More

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A Tribute
creative writing, Family, Father, Life, Love, Semi-Trucks, Thinkr8, Truth Told, Wisdom, writing

When This Is “A Father’s Tribute”

A Father’s Tribute _by Sharon Bowen – June 2nd 1999

It may seem like galaxies have separated us.
It may seem like there is no end to the void between us.
Each one us have taken a different pathway of life.
We have loved one another as a friend. We have fought as enemies. We have rebuilt walls. We have burned bridges.

My Father 1977-79
Milton J. Smith Sr. – Freelance Writer, Published Author – “I Could Write For Hours -but- I’d Rather Write For Money” – Not For Sale

Once, there was something – or I should say – someone who held us together.
That something was the love of a father. That someone was our father,
gone from us too soon. A prophetic word was spoken by the Pastor at his memorial service. Some may be too young to remember.
Some may not have heard.
Some may have been in denial, or anger, or lost in grief.
but, those words spoken have indeed come to pass.

Now, sixteen years later, I am reminded of those words; “Each member of this family will each go its own separate way. For the chain has been broken that held it together.”
At the time I thought of the chain of addiction and all things bad.
I thought, “Well this isn’t such a bad thing. We need to go on. We need to grow up.”

Now, sixteen years later, I look back over all our lives and see greater chains that have bound us. We struggle within them.
And have walked away from each other, bringing those words to pass.

What about the chain that held us together?
The chain that was broken?

It was a cain of the love of a father (doing the best he knew how).
A father, who, struggling within his own chains, never gave up on family.

Each of us knew we were loved in our own special way. No, it wasn’t perfect love – only God can give that.

But here, now – I miss our father’s love.
I miss his smile, his laugh.
I miss his funny little sayings.
I miss his sometimes profound words of wisdom.
I miss Sunday dinners and crab feasts.
I miss “family”.
I miss you, my brother.
I miss you, my sister.

I am sorry for turning my back and walking away.
I am sorry for my part in helping those prophetic words come true.

I miss my “Daddy” and I miss each one of you.

Your sister, Sharon

Written for the newsletter “The Prime Directive” – 2nd Edition 6-2-99

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