and paper. who could resist?
many nights i can remember waking up from my sleep and wandering downstairs to see my dad hard at work. we used to call it “work work” (as opposed to school work or church work) that he had brought home that needed to be done before the next day. i would see him sitting there, head down and extremely focused like all good engineers would do. it was just the normal thing for us to know that dad would do some “work-work” after we went to bed.
later in life i asked my dad about his “work work”. he said that in those days the pressure at 