A Hero Dies

My whole life I have studied heroes; in literature, the movies, and the generally held perception of a hero. Figures such as Herculeus, Achilles, Romeo (hey I love Shakespeare), Audie Murphy, The Punisher, (Anti-hero, I know)Superman, Batman; the list goes on and on. Some are heroes because of physical attributes, some because of an innate nobleness, some because of an out sized sense of justice, some (few) because they were at the right place at the right time and made the right decision.

I always thought of myself in heroic fashion, not in theme music plays as my life rolls on, but in a fashion that maybe I am larger then life. I am bigger then most people I know, tougher, I think I am more intelligent then most people I know, I am able to adapt to any situation or setting with ease and people seem to like me, etc, etc, ad naseum. In short, Heroic, so then I an a hero. But............

Why is that most heroes are lonely, depressed, and typically have few if any friends?? Sometimes it is because they loose their way, sometimes it is because they were once trying to save themselves but it is to late. Honestly, it is because most fail to live up to the internal standard they have set for themselves, or goals that they feel others require of them (real or imagined); a goal so lofty that in striving to obtain it the hero will inevitably fail and in doing so his greatest fears are realized: that he is just like everyone else and can not be depended upon or trusted. In short, a failure. Failed to save the world, failed to save the city, lost the battle, failed to save your squad, or even.......failed to save the girl of your dreams, who trusted and believed in you and firmly held you on a pedestal,but you could not even save yourself.

And so, heroes die. They don't fade away, or kiss their horse and ride off into the sunset, they don't hang up their cape and have families, they don't make movies about heroes. In the end, heroes die; I know, because I was a hero.

The Boy behind the Mask

For 37 years, and 9 months the face, no, the boy, I saw reflected in the mirror was a mask. It projected strength, power, know how, bravado, cowardice in all forms, and hypocrisy.It hid my fears, my inequities, my flawed understandings, my emotional handicaps. It allowed me to keep people at a distance, to fend off those who got to close to understanding what or rather who was behind the mask. It allowed me a sense of control over the misbegotten creature I truly had become. It enabled me to destroy the only woman who truly loved me any time she slipped under the mask and glimpsed the boy underneath.

God was not fooled! He hammered at me and the mask through my wife, my friend and pastor, and finally thrue the eyes and words of my sweet, blue eyed awestruck daughter. Finally I accepted the fact that the mask may not be what I thought it might be. I found that it was a curse that set me apart and stunted me; a thing that had overtaken me and was such a part of me that only through the ministrations of trained medical staff who were ordained by God to save wretches like myself did the mask fall away. Death holds me no longer! I am alive but oh the pain!

I am a boy becoming the man God designed me to be at a price paid in tears and blood, in the most intimate of pain- true understanding. Understanding of what I destroyed, the pain I caused, the fear and terror I delivered,the vows brocken, the words uttered, the promises destroyed, the years wasted, the tears shed.

I am on a journey that most do not understand and few will dare follow, a journey to becoming The Man in the Mirror!

I, Robot

I look like a man on the outside. I breathe, I bleed, I sweat and I consume food and drink.

But on the inside, oh, it is so different. I am a man of steel; with a cold, icy interior. I do not feel, I have no emotions, my heart does not exist. It is merely a a mechanical valve, that pumps a coolant type fluid. The rest of my organs are merely mechanical devices that perform the required functions. My bones are steel copies of the real thing. I can not be hurt.

I will not give up, I am a man of steel who will weather any adversity and remain standing. Who will not be hurt.

I chooses with a will of iron, my course, who or what will cross my path. I will not be hurt..

Please Lord, let the pain end.

The Battle for a Man's Heart and Mind

"You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife or his male servant or female servant or his ox or his donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor."Exodus 20:17

Why are so many men discontented with their wifes? Perhaps one reason is they play the comparison game.

I think that we are the main target of the Enemy and his minions, and this is his favorite weapon to use on us.

We operate and are motivated by our five senses, and our sense of sight is one of the most powerful, and is therefore a great target of opportunity. This world has been given over to the Enemy, and it is apparent by the fall in moral attitude (homosexual relationships being excepted in lots of places are an example), TV and Movies, Music, abortion, etc... One of the greatest indicators of this are the lie that the world has come to believe about Mothers and their place in the family. Up until the last generation, motherhood was a celebrated expected joy in a woman’s life. Now it is looked upon as either unavoidable (one to be endured for a short time) or one to be avoided completely. The question is why?

The answer lies in the fact that we (men) have become so entrenched in the visual world that we have slowly allowed the sacred to become commonplace and not worthy of our best.That gentlemen is the main battle, that the Enemy has convinced us that our Wives deserve the leftovers from our daily lives. When I say leftovers, I am referring to the fact that we do not guard our eyes and mind from the traps and snares the Enemy throws at us. Instead we slowly but surely slip and slide down the hill of visual sin to the point that we believe it is ok to stare at woman in our daily lives, then we began to exercise our wants and desires on this woman. In addition, before you know it, you have running porno movie live and in color starring every woman you find attractive.Then we go home to our wives who deserve our best in everything and yet receive our leftovers.

My challenge to you is to save your mental exercises for your wife and see what a difference it makes. You will find that it is beyond anything your brain can imagine, because it is in Gods will.

Heartbreak Hotel

Ok, ok I don't blog very often; but when I do it is usually fairly decent. So....

I usually try to spend as much time with Laura and the kids as I can on my 12 days off. This trip home, the time spent with them was extraordinary. We went to Galveston the first weekend home to mollify Morgan's hurt feelings over the canceled Schlitterbahn trip; even with the fistfights in the back seat it was very fun in the sun. Sunday we hung out , cleaned, and ate a great steak dinner. Over the following week, no one event with the kids stands out but Laura and I had a much needed marriage check. It was tearful and happy at the same time. Laura even shed some tears. That second Friday we surprised the kids with an Astro's game, dinner, T'shirts, and drunken fans. Hey Morgan, Morgan......"Whew 'stros...yeah baby, BLEGH!" hahahahahahaha. Then we rolled out of bed at 630 am, and drove to the New Brunesful hill country area for a needed soak in the Guadalupe river and a yummy lunch at the Gristle Mill. Even with the fist fights in the back seat, a good time was had by all. As I said, it was very high quality time with the wifey and kids.

Come Tuesday morning, I have the kids give me one last kiss and hug; make sure it will last for 15 days, be good for Momma, work hard in school and do your chores. Good bye little children, Daddy loves you! Run a few last minute errands, pack my gear, wait for Laura to return from staff meeting, give one last, slow, oh my God! kiss and hug and start the car. Watch Laura go in the house, turn car off and bang my head on the steering wheel....no! no! I don't want to go! OK, suck it up; I have to go, I need to find the hotel prior to the fall of night, when the banjos start in South Louisiana (NAnanananaanananana) "You sure got some purty lips, boy!".

Start car again, back out of drive way and head down street listening to 94.5 The Buzz. thinking that I can do this. As I drive I think to myself: I have to go to work, the kids have to eat, the house has to be paid for, Laura needs a new bed, the dog is pregnant and their will be 12 puppies and they gotta eat too! And I do great, drinking coffee and smoking a big cigar until I get to Beaumont and the radio station fades and silence takes its place.

And my heart breaks into a million little pieces and flows out of my chest thru my eyes. Yes I know I am lucky to have this job, I know God has a plan for me, I know I could be stuck at WOM working like a Hebrew Slave, yes I know all this.....but I still ache so badly inside when I leave my family. The ache does not end when I come to the rig and start my hitch, it just gets numb. Like a toothache that hurts for so long that it goes numb until you chew on that side and then the pain hits like a freight train, WHAM!

Say what you want, think what you may, but until you spend time away from the ones you love every 14 days you won't understand. I miss my family so very much!

Communicate Much?

My friend Sally's dad, Leland Morgan, passed away on March 31st early in the morning. The hard headed old man waited until it was just he and Sally. He would not have wanted to inconvenience anyone. He had been at the house under hospice care and was steadily growing weaker and basically, dying over the past several weeks. So this was not a surprise. He was 91 by the way. He smoked and drank for years, and ate southern style(lots of fried food and heavy sauces) his whole life. (Stick that up your ass you health freaks.)

I was on the rig dealing with a stack pull and did not really expect to come home until the following week, which sucks because my two week hitch was up the following day. Anyhow, after some fast talking and finagling, after being awake for 38 hours, and driving 386 miles in less then 5 hours, at about 430 pm the following day I was able to walk into my house with a hand full of flowers and a smile for my beautiful bride. Who upon seeing me grabbed me and began crying her eyes out as my children malled the both of us. Surprise, Daddy is home!
I have made a commitment to myself and to Laura that I will never do anything that would cause me not to be able to hold Laura in my arms. This means: nothing that would break my wedding vows, ( yeah I know this is a no brainer, but is a big deal for anyone that knows our story,) porn in any shape, my pride or assholiness, anger, or lying about anything no matter how small, and open communication with Laura. Especially open, honest communication. No, this is not a story about how I looked at porn and then told Laura about it. This is a deeper, Spiritual battle for my marriage.

{Since I began my position with Noble, being away for two weeks at a time, I committed to study the Bible and pray when I was on the rig. It began slow and spotty, but by August '08 I was habitually spending time in the Word and in prayer, both on the rig and at home. I began to try to go deeper and noticed that my loving bride journals her thoughts, prayers, and insights when she did her quiet time. I began to do this as well, but made notes in the margins of my bible. My wife noted this, and for valentine's day gifted me with a journal just like hers but in a different color. If you don't journal, I highly recommend this. It added a whole new dimension to my daily meeting with the Lord. Yeah I know you are wondering where I am going with this, right? Have patience.}

Because I was no longer in chains to the things the Enemy had always used against me, he attacked in a way I could not anticipate nor expect. Several months ago, I began to have dreams and strange thoughts. I began to dream and think that while I was gone, Laura was running around on me. I knew then, as I know now that Laura would never, ever do anything close to that. But I held those things to myself and did not share them with Laura or my accountability partners, which is what the Enemy wanted me to do. If the Enemy can isolate me, separate me from other believers, or convince me that no one would listen, then he has won a major victory. And he did win a major victory, but not the war.

Now, Laura has been with Sally over the last few weeks doing anything she can to help and still being a single parent to our kids. With me coming home, Laura was free to be there for as long as was needed. Including traveling overnight to Corpus Christi to lay Leland Morgan to rest and being a shoulder to cry on for anybody that needed it. We had not had time to talk, I think Laura averaged 3 hours of sleep over a 5 day period. But she did mention to me that she felt like I was holding her too tightly and that my two weeks home may be like a glorious honeymoon like time to me; but was somewhat of an interruption to her life and schedule and would I let go of her just a little bit. What? Ah Ha! I knew it! ( Cue the dramatic music). Cue Joseph to pull back and act like some kind of martyred asshole. Fine, if she wants her own space and own life, fine. She can do what she wants and I will do what I want.

It is very important to not become complacent in our relationships with others, especially with our spouses. I had become complacent with Laura. Everything seemed to be moving along very well; the kids were OK, I like my job but miss her and the kids when I am gone, our life was in a good spot.
So Sunday afternoon, although my wife was still physically exhausted and emotionally drained; we found time to talk and Laura tells me she is not completely happy and was not sure she could talk to me. Not sure she could talk to me? What? Hey I am your husband. You can talk to me, I won't blow up. We have been down this road, you know the sign posts, you can talk too me. I may not like what you are saying but I love you and I am not the same asshole man I was and will not blow up. She tells me I have been somewhat "off" the last few months and she felt as if there was a wall between us. I let her know about my dreams and thoughts and how her comment the other day somewhat, sort of kind of, in my small brained self confirmed what was going on. Did I mention that I was an asshole, with a brain the size of pea? Did I mentioned that my lovely bride was emotionally and physically exhausted? Did I mention that the Enemy isolates people and is very good at leading you to wrong conclusions based on facts and lots of conjecture? Did I? Good, because my wife began to wail! When she finally calmed down and was able to explain that what she meant was that she would like to have lunch or dinner during the week with her friend/friends without me being upset or feeling slighted because I am loosing out on her time or feeling put out. Not that she wanted me to be good enough to earn a living but she wanted to be away. That she loves me, misses me, but when I am home she has the option to spend time on her self as wants or needs too.

After a few humbling; soul baring, "I thought..." and "you meant..." my bride and I are back on the same page, headed in the same direction, loving each other even deeper and with more breadth then we ever dreamed possible; having learned another seemingly simple but vital lesson: communicate often, frequently, and especially when I feel distant or a wall seems to be up between us.

Gotta Love The Oilfield

I do blog, but it involves a notebook and pen; I don't type as fast as others.....Laura, Erinn, hell everybody. So anyway, I have been on the Noble Clyde Boudreaux since July and recently transferred to the Noble Paul Romano.
It is a good rig but small, at least to me anyway. I have just spent this last week having my ass handed to me in a; "what do you mean you have never (fill in blank)" or my favorite "how long have you been with Noble?" People, things were a little different on the other rig, like oranges and apples. Anyway, it has been very growth centered learning and a little bit humbling.
So on Tuesday I was informed I am being sent to another rig to help with a end of well BOP pull. Big deal,right? Wrong. Think lots of ass breaking, hurry, hurry work. Oh and little to no sleep for 4 to 7 days, lucky me!
Here comes the whole point of this blog, getting directions from anybody to get to the heliport in Patterson, La. Yes they have a heliport. It begins with an argument, and has ended with .."no man, your sick in the head. You turn RIGHT at the corner with the lightning struck tree that burned down. And then a LEFT past the bayou with the scarecrow dressed like, yep, a roughneck, and follow the road in the cane field. Then when you think you are lost, keep going boy, just keep going. You will see it."
Now at this point, I am thinking, google maps, Ah yes, much better right; unfortunately no. They told me this morning I need to stop by our Bayou Black Yard to pick up another Subsea Engineer. I went there once, but I rode in a company van from Lafayette and slept most of the way. So the logical question is how do I get to Bayou Black? " Well, son, you head towards Bayou Blue but you turn right at the store that them Asians owned but I think they got deported to Mexico....." Bayou Blue? Asians deported to Mexico? I am thinking of Google Maps. Anybody have an address? " Well son, I think..."
Hahahahahahah, man I like these guys.