My Pawpaw (that's what some of us call our grandpas in Louisiana) would have been 100 years old today. I feel like I owe so much to him that it's important to me to mark this day.

It seemed like he could fix anything, and he taught me to believe that I could too. He was my YouTube for fixing things before the internet. I only had the courage to attempt major engine surgery on my POS Datsun in high school because I knew I could ask him for help if I got stuck. And against all odds, I did it. That experience gave me confidence that carried forward into my career and adult life.

He also told me early and often to avoid climbing the career ladder into management. He had done it and hated every second. That plus seeing the toll that a management position took on my dad convinced me to focus instead on always improving and becoming a better expert at my trade, and not one day have I regretted my decision.

It's wild to think about how much change he experienced in his lifetime. When he was born cars were barely beyond the Model T era and we had only just discovered that our galaxy is not the entire universe. When he died we had found billions of galaxies like ours, we saw planets around other stars, and he had high speed Internet and a fuel injected Toyota from the same country he fought in a war as a teenager.

Throughout my childhood he never stopped encouraging me and showing interest in whatever it was that I was into that week, and for that I'll be forever grateful.

Happy 100th, Pawpaw. I'm so glad you're not around to see what we've let the place become.