Like Father, Like Son

Children learn how to stand before they can explain anything. A boy watches how his father waits in a line, how he looks at an engine, what he does with his hands when he has nothing to carry, and by the weekend he is doing it too.

Nobody teaches this. It shows up in the walk, the shrug, the way both hands go into the pockets when the conversation is over, and the father is usually the last to notice. When he does, it is one of the better moments of the job.

The drawing has no setting at all, only two figures in a few lines of navy on a cream ground. A tall man in a long-sleeved sweater and trousers stands with his hands in his pockets, his head tipped down toward the boy. The boy, half his height, stands the same way, hands in pockets, looking straight ahead. "Like Father" arches over their heads and "Like Son" sits beneath their feet.