He works his magic in a shop behind my parent’s house. He closes the doors, turns on the radio (oldies, of course), and tears down, rebuilds, and paints cars, trucks, and motorcycles. And the occasional golf cart.
This is my brother’s bike. A Harley, of course. My brother-in-law’s motorcycle was also painted and flamed by my dad, as well as my first car, my brother’s low-rider truck, and several classic trucks and cars that my dad has owned. He’s a very talented guy, though he would never admit it.
I remember helping him paint his old trucks, manually sanding down the doors until my fingers were stiff and listening to oldies in the background. I loved those old cars…they were so big, so strong, and there was something cool about seeing my dad create a working automobile out of what looked like a pile of old metal. I used to help polish his finished cars just before each car show, and was so proud to sit in front of the car and tell passersby what make, model, and year it was. His 1955 Cameo was featured in Truckin’ magazine, and my brother’s low-rider pickup (complete with hydraulics, gold trim, handle-less doors, chopped top, and several other vato-friendly features) was featured in Low Rider magazine. Like I said, my dad is super-talented.
Now that he’s retired, he’s rebuilding and painting cars for other people, running a small business out of his shop. Yes, I’m proud of him, and no, he won’t paint your car for free.
