My dad always asked me to help him w mechanical projects, yet never let me do much except watch. As far as he was concerned, working on your car was an exact science without much graceway for messing up and so I was taught more by watching than participating. This meant hours of loitering with a socket wrench in my hand, listening to him curse and spit profanities under the hood of our many vehicles....It was a bittersweet relationship.
(oh yeah, in this painting his middle finger was actually in a stent.)
The painting stands 4 ft. by 4ft.
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