Friday, October 5, 2012

Lap of Luxury

This past week might go down in history as "Greatest Turn of Fortunes Ever" because I started it out ankle deep in Pontiac Firebird misery and depression and financial woes and I ended it with a total spend thrift attitude maxing out credit cards and taking loans out on your children's future earth all on a roll of the dice that something would work out and I could keep the van running and my arthritis under control and my self loathing below OSHA specs...and now I'm in a leather seat with free drinks and snack mix in luxury per diem expense account insanity in a billion dollar industry and three free meals and an air conditioned private room on a battleship watching 3D cartoon reenactments of my own life in peyote butterfly visions. I literally made $0 at that fucked up garage and I sweated on that Pontiac and that Chevy and BMW and a Narc Car and a honda gold wing for 3 weeks, doing probably $4000 worth of work. How fucked up is that? But the reversal has been dramatic as I'm buying $250 fire resistant pants and dreaming of exactly what custom wood working scrolling I want on the neck of my $3000 guitar. Exactly who do I want to dedicate this instrument to? I really can think of only one person. But that's all star gazing of a kid who wants to fly to the moon on his stuffed Pegasus.



Is it luck or perseverance? I think a combination of both, priorities and determination and stubbornness and luck. I study Hydrogen sulfide and cable tray arrangements and fiber optic safety straps to my ego. I'm excited and feel giddy and sick. Will it pan out for the future? I don't know but I have tasted the boom era and the wild west of the gold mining is now in the present with deep drilling and hydro fracturing...it is all a cycle of repetitions and while I look around at the "No $100 bills" sign at a Subway and the help wanted signs everywhere as employees are picked to drive trucks for $900 a day and overnight fortunes are won and lost and families raised and dreams are reborn in the dying and dead desert, I am reflective and excited but also sad that what seems new was once old and will seem old very soon and the fatigue of the past deprivation and penitent lifestyle I have led may catch up to me soon. It's the kind of job you ignore back pain for and the Mexican hookers drift in the shadows and while I may end up a piano player at a brothel I can hear the blood rushing in my head and it sounds like angel harp strings.You want to know how dramatic the change has been? I want to kiss the CEO of Halliburton on the lips.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.