My dad is 69, and still busy as hell. Since he's retired he's been doing all sorts of odd jobs in the construction/home repair line. Lately he's been working on a hops field, helping provide the flavoring agent for everyone's favorite barley-based beverage.
In fact, I was lucky enough to spend a couple of hours this afternoon with him and his wife, having a couple of beers and talking.
He taught me a lot about working with tools. He was always willing to try something new. First big job I remember him doing as a kid was building a garage for our house. He'd never built anything before, but told me "I got bids. I calculated that I could build a garage, screw it up, burn it down and build it again...and it would *still* be cheaper!" I remember him working on it after work in the evenings with a flashlight taped to the handle of a shovel while he was digging for the block wall foundation around the perimeter.
He also taught me other stuff. We used to spend the weekend at my mom's parent's house, and we'd attend a small Catholic church nearby. The priest served 3 parishes, and traveled between them on a little 350 Honda with a completely fried exhaust. My dad noticed and asked the priest about it, who said he'd had a couple of warnings from cops about the noise. That week, my dad took me with him when he went to get a new exhaust system for the bike, which he presented to the priest after Mass the next Sunday.
We didn't always see eye-to-eye, but God knows I'm a lot like him. I'm glad I get the chance to hang out with him, and my condolences to all of you who've lost your dads.