Working the past ten days after nearly a month we have settled into our usual schedules. Myself on nights and Lisa working the days. Not a busy gig by any means. We survived two days and as many inches of rain creating mud and huge puddles we had to negotiate getting to the traffic. Lucky as some places got six or more. And this would have been a lousy place to get six inches of rain. At the bottom of a rather steep grade the semi's pulling the large tanker trailers needed a run at. At one point according to Lisa one of them didn't make it and started slipping down the grade jackknifing in the process. I didn't see it being blissfully asleep. And thankfully I guess it got stopped. Well, thats nice. Anyway Tonight a Cold Front is expected. Our Wave Catalytic is working fine and shouldn't cause as much problems as the rain did. (non removeable gravel that makes it's way into the Trailer} Kind of pleasant mostly because of the penchant for these companies to have meals catered for their workers. And for the most part we have been included. So we get free space, power, water, sewer and a paycheck and now free food. And it's not TV dinners . Some of the guys have gotten involved and demonstrated their grill skills and we have had Ribeye Steak, BBQ Pork, Sausage, Rice and Beans, Bacon Burgers, Spaghetti and Quesadillas. We are still working on the Spaghetti. Yeah, I got 99 problems but this ain't one.
2:00 AM and bored watching telly. Sky is clear. Pretty good breeze kicking up. The flag by the muster points are flapping pretty wildly. The flags signify the direction of the wind and which muster point you need to head in the event of H2S gas alarm. Somebody said it's not healthy moving downwind. A flash of memory kind of like when my long gone buddy passed gas in a closed car in winter after a pizza smorgasboard. But this stuff is serious. Poor guy caught in an Oil rig explosion couple of weeks ago just died according to the news. Currently we are located closer to the operation than I normally like. Occasionally a truck will rumble by at the top of the grade negotiating the huge holes in the road caused by the traffic on the Caliche gravel after the monster rain. Almost everybody has gone home. Lisa is in deep sleep and I am alone. No, not quite. Larry King is plugging fish oil. Not the dirty skanky fish head and fish gut kind of oil. You know. From the bad stinky parts of the fish. No this company extracts the oils from the purest parts of the fish. I guess. Age is cruel. The last night job I had was when I worked at the Gin Mill in Boise back in the late seventies. Usually we'd get the bar closed up about 2:00 AM. Being too wound up to sleep I remember listening each night to Larry's AM radio show during the drive home and then in bed until I fell asleep. Some folks might disagree but I thought that this was his heyday. A brilliant no nonsense interviewer he didn't just hang up on folks who called to argue. In fact he called them out. I was riveted then. Always controversial. Now 81 Larry seems as sharp as ever. It's just that he has passed that invisible threshold where he is no longer considered relevant my guess. Relegated to Infomercials. Course I suspect this abasement is adequately cushioned by Cash.
A job like this is a bit like doing time . Much time for thought. Unlike Glenn who remembers every damn minute of his life, somewhere along the line I got brain damaged and struggle to remember things. The opportunity of times like this is that the memory stream starts as more of a Ditch but progresses to a small Creek Random stuff. School classes and teachers. Juvenile adventures climbing in and out of a giant canyon. Ten years old and scampering up and down a vertical rock chute like it was nothing. Poking your head over a ledge and seeing a Lizard. Something that would now cause me to let go and probably plunge thirty feet to my death on the rocks below, well then was a moment of delight as that was probably the goal anyway.
For some reason, maybe because it is Veteran's day, I remember being Nineteen and working in a Pizza joint. For the first time seeing an older guy, (maybe 25) who I had not seen for many years. Actually he had been somewhat of a neighborhood bully then, (when I had been much younger) and I strongly suspect he shot me in the head with a BB gun at one point, (or knew who had. that had hurt like hell) He'd been drafted into the service I'd heard. Anyway, just off work I decided I was going to talk with him. I actually didn't have hard feelings as those events had happened many years before. Maybe I wanted to demonstrate that I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I walked over to the table where he was drinking a pitcher of beer and said hello. I thought there might be some recognition, maybe a moment of uneasiness as he realized who I was. Nope. He didn't have the faintest clue and it was evident in his voice as he struggled to talk. TBI I now know I suspect, but he was delighted to have some company and I sat at the table with him and over a few beers that he bought, we talked. in general terms and he asked who I was. I tried to jog his memory a little but it just didn't work. That we had been neighbors and, well he had been slightly an asshole then. Nope, nada, nothing. Eventually he told me that he had some kind of non specific war injury but he didn't elaborate. Overall his affect was happy and congenial with this nameless stranger who he was buying beers for. And after a bit he struggled to his feet and left, obviously the head injury wasn't the only thing he was dealing with. These are thoughts depicted as accurate as I can remember them. I don't name Names as I would never wish to offend him. I have never personally seen him again though I guess he still lived in the same town. My negative feelings diminished, replaced by more of a sorrowful admiration that this had happened to him. Many years later an article was published in the local paper detailing his efforts advocating veterans. I don't even know if he is still alive these events occurring some forty years ago. I guess this memory is a result of my strikingly different feeling I had of him as I watched him leave. Iv'e grown beyond trying to analyze shit.
And since this is Veteran's Day a happy Veteran's day to my Dad, my Mother, Carl, Glenn, Cody and My late Uncle George, My late Uncle Kenny, Big El and any other Vet who may read this.
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived
General George S. Patton
Mike n' Lisa's quest blog UA-20271220-1
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