Oil dreams and other things

- Big dreamer -

This doodle came from an old book I found, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by S. T. Coleridge. This particular volume, from the Eclectic English Classics series, must have been used as a college class text, because inside the covers it has a few different names (one of them along with "Carlton College") written, erased and marked through. One name is dated 1917, so I'm surmising this drawing came from that era. That's over one hundred years of dreaming! I thought I had been thinking about it a long time, like it was something new.

The oil field is deeply embedded in my culture. When I was three, I moved to Sweetwater with my mother, where she went to work for Big State Welding, which became Big State Roustabout. My dad worked for Reef in Snyder, when it was still a local business, first driving a treater truck, then as a supervisor. My uncle Hack had an oil transport business. Boyfriends, friends and my son have worked on rigs. I really don't know much about the oil business, but I find I'm able to have a literate conversation about it because it's always been part of my life. Learning by osmosis, I guess.

I liked hearing my mom talk on the radio. In her no-nonsense manner of speaking, she would call up "Piss Ant" or "Sleepy" on the radio to relay information.

Even now I still have Big State stickers and paraphernalia floating around in boxes and drawers.

That business ended in 1986, when oil crashed and everything had to be auctioned off.

It's good to remember that the dream can come to an end. Such a volatile market. Save now! Be an ant, not a grasshopper!