Witness marks
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?
14 comments Og | Uncategorized
Og. That just downright profound.
You could sell that one to Hallmark, only because it’s too short for a book, and more people should be exposed to it.
My son called me up to chat. I was apprehensive. I was afraid something had gone wrong with the business he had just started. He said he just wanted to call me and talk, because he hoped that in years to come, his son would do the same. Well I did it with MY dad.
Hmm… This is tougher than it sounds at first.
I guess some of the marks I hope to leave on my daughter are some of the same my mother left on me: the importance of honesty and sincerity; the idea that life is short and you should smile, laugh and enjoy it whenever possible; “two wrongs don’t make a right”; you can do anything you want to do in this world, if you want it badly enough and you’re willing to work for it; and “where there’s a will there’s a way”, to name just a few.
An excellent post, Og. Very excellent.
My dad tought me a lot of things. By watching he and my mom interact most of my life, I learned that having a wife and kids was maybe not such a great thing. Nobody seemed to be very happy with it. Nether of them tought me anything about intimacy, or the joy of sharing your life with someone. He turned out to be a great baromater for learning mostly what not to do, or who not to be. He’s 84 now. I love the man, and respect many aspects of his life. He was alone among his brothers in having the drive to get himself and his family out of Bell county and make something greater for himself and his kids. He spent 33 years in the Army and Air Force, and did that stuff really well. But he never could understand me or my sister, and the suburban lives we were leading. Probably not his fault. It’s as if we were raised on different planets, after all. He tried to relate to me, or to get me to understand him. He kept trying to get me to enjoy pulling weeds and shit, telling me about his joy in helping his father, who was a sharecropper. I’d just look at him like he was crazy. he used to bust in on me when I was in the shower, yelling at me, trying to get me to soap up in the right way and save water, as if it were still the depression and they were still having to haul it in by hand. Now he wants to know why he doesn’t have grand kids to bounce around. I figure you reap what you sow, my man. Still, he put it all out there for us, while I’ve been too much of a coward to even try. So, there you go. It’s a complex relationship, father and son.
You’re good, Og.
Damn good.
I hope I have left some good marks.
I always wonder…
BTW, the new ePostal contest is up (at my site), and I would be honored if you would shoot it.
It’s my first time hosting.
Regards,
CUG
If I have a moment free to do so, I promise I will.
Wonderful, fascinating concept, Og. The kind of thing you can play with for years. Thanks!
M
That one was about as good as it gets.
Damn good.
What a wonderful post. Must think about the answer, though. Wow.
Og, this has always been a favorite post of mine, and I find myself thinking on it every father’s day. Just had to revisit…
Happy Father’s Day, to you.
Still a good post.