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By Andy, on January 24th, 2012
 Day breaks over an unnamed mesa If you haven’t dropped by the MyOldRV message board, you need to do that. Got a nice little community coming together over thataway.
You wouldn’t know it but I tend to listen more than I talk. Gets me branded as ‘surly’ or ‘anti-social’ more often as not; I just blow it off. That is one reason I enjoy visiting the message boards here and elsewhere. The variety of personalities and people’s expectations are a daily source of enlightenment….. and more than a little entertainment.
Of course, the subject of gate guarding is paid close attention. This time of year, the freshman gate guards are waiting on a gate or just getting settled into a lifestyle that is definitely not for everybody. Each morning I set down to run the traps with a fresh pot of coffee and catalog the educational progression of the snivelers and the stoic; rookies and veterans alike. Unrealistic expectations are what get most folks in trouble when they fall off down into that South Texas to try to make an oil field gate guard hand.
Let me try to explain…….
Have you ever been in an RV park that advertised ‘free WiFi’ and then come to find out that was a true statement only if you were within 50 yards of the office? Dirty bastards! Did it make you mad enough to chew nails and spit out a barbed wire fence?
Or try this one…….
Does the very thought of pulling into a strange fuel stop and fueling up your coach or tow vehicle put you in a nail biting tizzy?
Or maybe this……
What do you have in your storage bays? Pool floats or extra fuel filters? A lawn table with an umbrella or 4 cases of bottled water?
Sometimes you just know that Hindenburg is going to crash and burn and all you can do is watch.
 Checking on the life support system It would do us all more than a bit of good to step back and take a look at how these rig outlaws view life in the Oil Patch. The boys on the hill had a rough time this past week; I could tell something was up when I saw them tripping pipe unexpectedly. Drawn faces, tired eyes and grit oily arms were in evidence when they left for town to pick up some lunch meat and frozen dinners. I finally found out from one of the vendors inbound that they had twisted off 5 sections of pipe at around 3500′. Not great news; that. But still yet, we invariably got a smile and the ‘You need anything from town?’ question as they checked out. Sniveling and whining got no place in the oil field.
I still surprises me when I read about how awful the dust/mud/heat/cold/laundromats/grocery stores/restaurants/mail service/lease roads are from other gate guards. What did you expect? Some of these Tejas counties are 100 miles end to end with ONE town in the whole county. If it wasn’t for the oil business, there wouldn’t be nothing out here but a cadre of whip leather tough cowboys, a few scrawny mama cows and some lonesome coyotes yippin’ down in the wash every evening. Tough country, always has been and always will be.
If you were to climb to the top of the Holy Mount and ask the Great Gate Guard Guru where lies the true secret of being a good gate guard, he would say ‘Everybody’s gotta work.’ Chew on that for a minute. These oil field hands are going after it with grit and determination every day and they respect the same-same in a person. That means getting up off your butt and interacting with your gate traffic. Hit that door and actually speak to everybody and learn their story. Listen to the young boys talk about the problems of young couples everywhere and wives/girlfriends home alone. Talk to them about babies missing their daddies and birthdays and football games unattended. Listen to the old men groan under the weight of years worked hard. Pay attention and keep track of what is going on in the neighborhood so when the company man has a question, you are the person he comes to. Waving out the window and writing license numbers down on a log sheet that most likely will never be looked at only breeds resentment.
You can’t order a box of respect from Amazon. As a matter of fact, respect doesn’t come pre-packaged with a college diploma, a big fancy RV or fat diamonds on perfect fingers. Respect is grudgingly earned drop by drop and day by day and these roughnecks will tell ya quick it is worth more than all the oil under their feet.
End Note: Truth by Ruthie Foster from the Truth According to Ruthie Foster cd. Lordy, that gal can sing.
VN:F [1.9.13_1145] Rating: 9.9/10 (10 votes cast) VN:F [1.9.13_1145] Rating: +4 (from 4 votes) Possibly Related Posts:
By Andy, on January 21st, 2012
So I was runnin’ the traps this morning as usual and something unpleasant got stuck in my brain. About the only way I know to exorcise brain unpleasantries is to put the words down in the blog. Call it a brain cleanse….
For some reason I got to thinking about 20 years from now. I am -lets’ see- 56 years old now and 76 doesn’t seem that far away. Looking back, 20 years ago seems like it was a lifetime but the years do seem to accelerate with each one that passes; why is that? So I got to thinking “me at 76″ and just extrapolated from there.
 Tramp Stamp Will I be in some funky smelling nursing home with a buncha blue haired old women and old men with double caterpillar eyebrows? Just think about an assisted living facility filled with old ass yuppies if you want to go into mental arrest PDQ.
How ’bout all them gals that got the tramp stamps back in the day? 20 years in they are mildly disconcerting. What are they gonna look like in another 20? Enough to give you hellish nightmares I’ll betcha. Lookin’ like somebody threw a scary Halloween mask in the fire and it got all melted up. Eeeeuuuuw!
Will Lady GaGa be playing in the elevator? Will rap music be programmed on the oldies stations? Will we be watching old HD re-runs of Survivor and The Batchelor? I bet the younger kids will be thinking ‘Who could have ever watched/listened to this kinda crap??’
So I am thinkin’ this ain’t gonna work at all — not even a little because A) I couldn’t take it and because B) Nobody would ever come to visit me in Bizarro World. So something has gotta give… Miss Kathy tells me when it gets that bad she will arrange the dirt nappin’ event and I can count on her for that. Bless her heart! Top of the list for now is the ‘unfortunate gun cleaning accident’ scenario. She has given me her assurance that she will wait until I give her the go ahead signal – she really has. I ask her about it all the time just to make sure she don’t jump the gun or nothin’.
 So the only thing to do is stay outta the Old Folks place. That means I better got crackin’ on the Terlingua Refuge (BTW the link is to one of my all time favorite blog posts. Readers didn’t seem to think so as it got a mediocre star rating but I sure did like it.) because I am looking for a good wide porch to set my rockin’ chair on.
Because that is the plan. Get all fixed up out there in that Terlingua and then I don’t have to put up with all that old folks’ commune nonsense — and neither does Miss K. Just a place to grow old gracefully smoking some Mexican cigarettes smuggled across the border down there at Lajitas because Lord knows our Government will have outlawed tobacco use by then, drinkin’ some Mexican beverage fermented from an otherwise useless desert plant because Lord knows good Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey will cost a king’s ransom by then. Sounds good don’t it? Oh, I want a set of ginormous wind chimes that will ring like a big ol’ Chinese gong when the desert breeze whips up. I will be deaf as a bowling ball by then most likely and it will be a good way to assure unwanted visitors don’t overstay their welcome.
So now you know the secret squirrel plan we been hatchin’ up. Nothing earth shakin’ when you think about it. Just me and Miss K and Tuco the Dog II or III out in the Desert. Livin’ life by the drop until the cup is empty. That’ll work………..
VN:F [1.9.13_1145] Rating: 9.8/10 (4 votes cast) VN:F [1.9.13_1145] Rating: +3 (from 3 votes) Possibly Related Posts:
By , on January 19th, 2012
Andy’s note: Regular readers will recognize Joel’s name. He is a frequent commenter and introduced me to the pleasures of GOOD Scotch whisky. I count him as a true friend. Good way to start out our guest author program as well…
The Prince of Dogtown by Joel
 Charles I met Charles seven or eight years ago at a house party. He and his band were the live entertainment for a graduation party in honor of the lady of the house, who just got her Ph.D. in English. I didn’t know the family well. Their daughter was a classmate of my daughter, and the mom—the newly minted Ph.D.—was a banjo student of Charles’.
Anyway, I hung out with the band, and was standing by when someone requested the old Grandpa Jones song “Eight More Miles to Louisville.” Fittingly, Charles, who was holding forth on guitar said he didn’t know that as a guitar song, but played it on the banjo. I volunteered to play it on guitar, so Charles handed me his Taylor and we played and sang it with him on his banjo. After we were done, Charles let me sit in for the rest of the set, and at the end, he asked if I’d join the band for a gig in Southern Illinois the next Saturday, and there was $50 dollars in it for me.
That was the beginning of a long musical friendship. I’ve played with Charles and the “Bates Street Folk and Blues Band” on and off since, and it has also gotten me gigs with others who need a backup guitar and clawhammer banjo player. With Charles and the band, I’ve played house parties on both sides of the river, at company picnics and a street festival, in back yards and churches, in barns and on a city street in downtown St. Louis. We played at a graduation party for his oldest daughter, then a few years later, for her wedding and for the reception. I played a gig with Charles last spring in a pole barn north of Godfrey IL, and was paid $60 and a half pint of moonshine. The moonshine was very much ethanol-forward, as the connoisseurs would say, and had a distinct lead and cadmium finish.
Charles has shoed horses, been a park ranger, and was once a social worker in North St. Louis. He grew up in Dogtown, and wrote a song about his childhood, waking up to the sound of the lions roaring at the St. Louis zoo. He sings loud, plays hard and enjoys food and drink. He has a wonderful wife and three kids who are either Ph.D.s or in Ph.D. programs. We agree completely on politics and religion, but sometimes argue about the use of minor chords and the merits of Irish music.
Charles is 67 and has already lived eleven years longer than his dad did. He is fairly fluent in German, and knows a little Russian. When he’s angry, he can be a tyrant, and I’ve seen him tear up while telling a touching story. He never exercises but he’s trying to lose weight. He’s larger than life.
I know and work with an awful lot of very smart people. I’ve published with a couple of members of the National Academy of Sciences and corresponded with several others. But one of the people I’m proud to call a friend and a mentor doesn’t have a Ph.D. or a fancy title. He calls himself the Prince of Dogtown. I was over to his castle last Friday for an audience. We covered some John Prine tunes and shared a bottle of wine I brought over. When I retire, I want to be like him.
VN:F [1.9.13_1145] Rating: 9.3/10 (4 votes cast) VN:F [1.9.13_1145]
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By Andy, on January 17th, 2012
 Back in the younger days when I was a truck drivin’ outlaw, I managed to make it to every state in the Continental US at least twice. I think I am lucky in that respect because not everyone is afforded that opportunity. Some states fell under the heading of how fast I could get outta there — like New Jersey and Connecticut. Others sorta grew on me. You are gonna get a laugh out of
Continue reading Kolaches ‘n’ Tacos
By Andy, on January 15th, 2012
 Near Jasper, TX ca. 2009 when the blog started
I know plenty of people who started a blog with the full intention of writing regularly – I find them all the time when I am googlin’ around. A few posts and then nothing…. I can honestly understand that 100% — sometimes the words just aren’t there and sometimes when I go back and re-read some older blog entries here at MyOldRV….. well, lets’ just say
Continue reading Got Something You Want to Say?
By Andy, on January 14th, 2012
 Odds and ends to tidy up a week….
Fine dining- Iraan,TX
10 days in out here in Pecos County, TX and we are settling in to what does look to be a ‘good’ assignment for an oil field gate guard. ‘Good’ being relative, of course. Something happens when you travel west of I-35. The land opens up, the towns grow fewer. Distances are trebled and quadrupled for the simplest of errands. I am reminded of a
Continue reading Wrapping Up a Week….
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