Neanderpundit

A witness mark is a mark made by the builder of a machine- or a firearm- that indicates the place where two parts line up- or where they should.

It’s also used to refer to the spot on a machine where two items have made repeated enough contact. The spot where a bumper hits the frame on an offroad vehicle, the place where a cam follower rubs agains the cam, the spot where your keys rub the dash smooth hanging from the ignition.

On my tractor, there’s a spot where if you stick your fingers through the spokes you touch the steering column. I never noticed I do this, I just do. Now that I have noticed it, I remember dad doing it too.

And today, I noticed, that the years and years and years of sticking my fingers through the spokes as I steer and dad doing the same, the paint has worn completely through. We’ve left the same witness mark on the tractor, father and son, thirty years of doing the same thing.

I think about the other things Dad did that left their mark, and I realize that some of those witness marks were left on me. And I’m trying to leave them on my child. What witness marks do you bear? Where will you leave your witness mark?

Whatever you think you got to bitch about today, I want you to shut the fuck up and go read this. And be humbled, and thank God for what you have, and shut the fuck up some more.

Oh, and go hug the stuffing out of your kids. And shut up some more.

If you’ve ever done any work to your car, odds are good you’ve done some lot work. You know what I mean- changing a set of windshield wipers in the parking lot of Wal-Mart. Swapping out a battery at K mart. Maybe even, in a moment of weakness, putting in a new radio head unit in the parking lot of Radio Shaft, because the AM radio that came in your Vega had finally become insufferable.

Today, I saw the ultimate Lotwork. In the parking lot of the AutoZone, six guys, doing an engine swap. Every so often they’d run in to buy another tube of sealant, or a gasket that didn’t come in the kit, or some such wierdness. Guy at the Zone said they’d been there all afternoon. By the time I got a new battery for the Honda, I heard them firing it up.

THAT is lot work. Damn.