As was intended in my post about Dad last year, this entry is not just intended to commemorate his departure, so much as it is about remembering him and his accomplishments. He was a true engineer. Whenever I'm up against a technical problem, I always ask myself: "What would Dad have done to remedy this?" Although I don't possess a knowledge-base remotely close to his, I can often work through things just by imagining how he might have approached a particular situation. One talent I will always give him immense credit for, is how if he was up against something beyond his experience, he wouldn't hesitate to find a book on the subject, or pick up the phone. He loathed beginning any project in a half-assed way. That very principle often frustrated me in my years of.. 'youthful impatience' but various experiences since then have led me to appreciate that way of thinking. - Yep!
Another remarkable thing my dad was known for, was his ability to improvise with materials on hand. To this I must add though, he normally wouldn't ever improvise if doing so would compromise the overall reliability of the finished project. In fact, due to this stubborn ethic, there were many times where his improvisations became actual improvements on whatever the thing was supposed to be or do. He had a gift for looking at a constructed object or device and somehow know what its tolerances were. If dad ever said: "That's a piece of junk not worth fixing," he was always right, ..but very often he was able to fashion a superior replacement part for a broken device. (See last year's post.) Stuff that Dad fixed never seemed to need further repairs; at least involving his previous workmanship. If a little hand-milled aluminum ring did the trick, that one component would most certainly outlive the integrity of the rest of the gadget.
It's true that my dad wasn't a major "people person," but his most oft repeated advice about dealing with people was: "If they don't want to (insert situation) hire you / deal with you / refund your money / etc, then you have to.. POUND THE TABLE!" Of course I know he didn't mean that literally. In fact, Dad preferred to avoid personal and business-related confrontations as much as possible. I believe that was his own way of saying "The squeaky wheel gets the oil" - or whatever. His unique way of expressing that lives on among us in his family and others who knew him. It has even become a bit of inside joke of ours, yet the wisdom behind the message applies just as much today as ever. In this world of so many digital phone menus and faceless transactions, it's all too easy to get lost or trampled over in the background static. Sometimes you just have to.. pound the table!
I haven't forgotten that, Dad.
If anyone wants to add a comment to this or about Dad in general, just click on the blue "Comments" link right below this sentence.
