Wooden Tanks, Steel Men,

Several years ago I decide that I read so much about Texas that I could write a book about Texas. So I started out with the idea I would write the epic tale of my progenitors coming to Texas from Virginia on the eve of the War of Northern Aggression, that’s the Civil war for you Yankees. The only trouble was the only resource material I had was a 11 page letter of an older relative’s remembrance of what her mother had told her about what she remembered about the journey through the eyes of an eight years old.
That’s when I learned my first of many lessons about writing. You have to have good resource material, be willing to do a whole lot of research, or know what you’re talking about. That “learning” was the seed of my next attempt at writing a book.

“Wooden Tanks, Steel Men” was the working title, OK the only title of my new book. As near as I can remember I started this project in 2000. This is a subject I could get my teeth into, I grew up watching these men. I’ve even worked on a Wooden Tank crew and actually helped build the last red wood tank in the Permian Basin. (Put that on your resume and see where it gets you.) That’s when I learned my second lesson about writing. It is work. Knowing the subject well helps but it does not get words on paper.

I never intended to have this book published but after writing two chapters totaling all of 14 double spaced pages, including the title sheet, I knew that if by some miracle of God it was published, it would have to be published by Hallmark. So what did I do with all my efforts? I put it on my webpage. That was the beginning of the “Oil Patch Tales” on TexasBob.com.

Last week when I was in Odessa a friend of mine asked, “When are you going to finish that book? I want to know how it ends.” So while stuck in the Austin airport I decided to read it online. I haven’t actually read it in years. It made me laugh. I really enjoyed thinking about my grand father “Mr. Mac” and the tank crew. So what did I do? I added a couple paragraphs to Chapter 2. At this rate I should have about 100 pages by time I’m 134 years old

TexasBob

Air travel has reached a new level on my ordeal meter

Air travel has reached a new level on my ordeal meter. Even Southwest airlines, an expert at herding humans and making you feel like its OK if we are having fun, is becoming a “high ordeal” event.

Rising gas prices have robbed me of the pleasure of cruising I-10 between Ozona and Iraan cut off. Zipping along at 70 mph and still being 10 mph under the posted speed limit where occasionally a truck or car passes you rocking your pick up with their sonic boom wake.

So I decided to fly. I can fly to Midland for about two thirds of what the gas would cost to drive my 16 mpg pickup, and that includes a car rental. But the trade off is the ordeal of flying and the limited amount of junk you can bring with you.

At the Midland/Odessa departure gate at Hobby Airport (HOU)in Houston I always scan the crowd of travelers looking for a familiar face, but I never see one. Although I was born and raised in Odessa I only lived there until I was 25, that means that I have not lived there more years than I lived there. (Does that make sense?)

Sunday, 6:00 AM at MAF, that’s the FAA designation for the Midland International Airport. You know the airport you are in is not busy when you can hear the “Muzak” and clearly understand the pre recorded announcements. “The terrorist level set by Home Land security is Orange” other than the massive oil reserves in the area its hard to fathom a terrorist threat in the this place. “MAF” is a very nice airport, and airport that is not too busy with masses of people should be a clean airport and this on is. But I have yet to figure out how the get on the there very strong Wi-Fi signal. I guess I don’t have the correct decoder ring. I’ll have to write Battle Creek and get a new one.

Sunday 8:30 AM at AUS, that Austin-Bergstrom International, I arrived from MAF and just realized I was going to spend about 3 hours at the Austin. At least the Wi-Fi worked.