YOU CAN ALWAYS THINK ABOUT OIL

You can always think about oil. I mean, how the hell could you ever come to terms with the magnitude of that? I still say it all the time: "Doesn't the earth need the oil?" I'll get a chuckle or a hmmm at best. Nobody's ever given me a straight answer. It was maybe 16 or 17 years ago when the whole thing hit me. I was flying out west for some job. I looked out the window like I always did, down at the flat landscape rolling by. The checkerboard of farms, the lone highways of cars leading towards another town then another city then back out on their own again. All of this repeating itself over and over again for hours and hours. Anyway, this time while looking at it, something happened. It was sort of like when all of a sudden your mind pieces together all the clues of a betrayal. I had had my cheek pressed right up to the cold glass. I then moved my head away from it and I looked around at all the other passengers. A woman laughed. The businessman in front of me raised his hand and fidgeted with the little air thing. What shocked me was that I actually whispered the words out loud. "It's not gonna work," I said. "This is crazy! None of this is gonna work!" No one heard me I don't think. So, anyway, like I said, it's now 16 or 17 years later, and I still find myself saying those words. "It's not gonna work. This is crazy! None of this is gonna work!" And it's true. It's NOT gonna work. It IS crazy! Absolutely fucking crazy! But then just now as I'm writing this, my little boy comes running into room. "Daddy, Daddy!" he says. "I like my five head better than my forehead!" And we both laugh as he runs back away into the other room.