today's moon; will there be anyone not taking up his pen? Onitsura
Monday, April 9, 2012
North Dakota - $17 bucks an hour to work at the McDonald's in Williston. Now, there's the true measure of a boom town. A talk with the coaches of the visiting college baseball team served to verify the facts. Only problem is, there's no where to stay. They've made "man camps" out by the oil fields, or, you could sleep in your truck, live in a tent by a tributary of the Missouri River . . . if a fellow had a Winnebago . . . they won't let you park in the Walmart lot no more, though.
14 days on, 14 days off, working on the oil rigs. They make damn good money, too. There's construction work to be had, they're building so fast. And they need truck drivers to haul pipe, to haul water . . .
It was my father's birthplace. 1914. They still wore sidearms then, for the rattlesnakes, mostly.
Grandfather farmed and held most of the mortgages on the land surrounding the town of Rawson, population 100, give or take a few - a place that no longer exists, disappeared with the dust blown across the prairie.
At the height of the Depression he tore up all the notes, returned the land to the people settled there. Land flat and barren as an inland sea but for the waving grasses of summer and winter's boundless, drifting snow.
a step into Laurasia's