Being an injun was super uncool in my grandfather on that side's time. So he kept it all very secret, being the real halfbreed when it was not cool. He wanted to be a real whiteman like the resut of the family. I have more respect for few men than him. He was by far the best mechanic I;ve ever known, and I am technically a mechanic myself. He was also a real manly mans man who taught me much about honor and honesty. I always think of him to try to be the best man I can. No offense to my own father, who is also a great guy, but he really never understood manliness to a fractional point of any of my grandfathers, mom's or his dad even/ No offense, dad: I love you dearly, but you're still mom's slave cuck... But I digress... One grandfather was a great draftsman who helped with internal layouts of the Nike Ajax missile and the B1 bomber, but I hardly knew the guy. He was cool, thoug. Mom's dad, though, he was a real father figure. And I pity youth retards of these days who did not get to learn from a manly man like that. To repair airbrakes without exploding your hand. To replace a clutch in a '50s English car, to swap engines in a pretty ordinary Ford family car, making it a super sleeper hotrod... among so many other things. I called him papa. It was never intended as an insult to my actual father, it's just what I called him. It's weird, and I do regret any emotional weirdness that may have caused... but holy fuck, I will honour Papa and never forget him. Ever. I need to go find where they buried him. Since he died, I've never really gone back. But for some reason I feel like I should. But I am drunk, And I digress.