In my mind, I can still smell the mixture of grease and used motor oil that permeated my Dad’s shop. He was a mechanic and he and a bunch of his buddies used to spend most of the winter rebuilding old cars in our backyard garage. It was always sort of a strange and mysterious place to me. I had no idea what the various tools did and I did not know what all the parts were for, but I wanted to learn. In fact, it never even occurred to me that there were people in the world who wanted nothing to do with repairing old cars. I saw it being done and so I wanted to know how to do it too. Another place of mystery was my Uncle Grant’s work room. He had a basement room full of electronic stuff including diodes, capacitors and electronic test equipment. I had no idea how to use them and I did not know how electricity worked, ...