A Painting of a Sign Painter, by a Sign Painter

I didn’t plan to write about my dad, just a few weeks after posting a piece about what would have been my parents’ 72nd wedding anniversary. But I can’t get that painting out of my mind. Perhaps writing about it will help. Besides, Father’s Day is coming up. I have been a dad for nearly 47 years. The verdict is likely still out on my fathering qualities. Some of you have read this before, but others haven’t. I’ll make it brief. My dad drew a paycheck as a commercial artist, a fancy term for a sign painter. A botched medical procedure when he was 58 left him disabled and unable to work....

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