Bellbottom Cowboy

There's been a load of compromising...on the road to my horizon

I'm like a long line of compromising hypocrites before me who ends up leaving behind an adventurous way of life for steady money. But I'm also curious and really the path of the contrarian had grown dry and predictable. I was given a rare glimpse into my future last year and I saw no point in continuing on that path. The Borg assimilates everyone and it's even worse if you resist. It's not futile because it's possible and maybe you'd rather etch your own obituary with the chisels of your pride, but like Winston learned in 1984, Big Brother is on your side. He loves you. 2+2=5 because it's a test of your devotion. The boot that stomps your face is benevolent. If you have nothing to hide then you shouldn't be offended by complete lack of privacy. Give me my bellbottom pants and my cowboy hat and take all the other shit.
What I've learned so far is that electricity is only one of the components of an oil field electrician's life. The level and square and tape measure are my most used tool...not crimpers because everything has to look like the space shuttle or else I get fired. I ask, "Is it plumb?" all the time. It's an interesting line of work and 70 hours is about an average week so I'm short on time to bloviate about my inner universe. There's nothing like staring 600 volts down to make you forget about your depression. One minute I was driving a JLG lift to adjust flood lights and

the next minute servicing a flawed generator/pump jack disconnect involving a rod pump control module (as an ominous lightning storm approached). As long as I can keep the hours of digging trenches to a minimum then these compromises are something I can live with.