D O U G' S ~ ~ ~ D I V O T S

        First of all, for those of you who don't know what a Roustabout Gang is, it is a gang of men in the oil fields who do just about every kind of dirty work there is. So one summer day when I was eight years old I saw our Roustabout Gang out doing some real easy work. They were chopping weeds. I thought, "Holey Cow, I have been doing that in our garden for free." I had been doing it for 'free' because when I did something wrong my Daddy's favorite punishment was for me to get shed of them damn weeds in our garden. I HATE gardens!

        Well anyhow, when I saw them roustabouts chopping weeds and getting paid for it, I marched directly into the Superintendent's office and applied for a full-time job. Bless his cotton-pickin heart, he didn't tell me to get the heck outta there, but said, "Let's me and you take a little trip." I thought maybe he was going to take me to get a weed chopping hoe, but he took me over to a little country store and bought me a candy bar and a sodie pop thinking I would forget all about wanting a job chopping weeds. He was sorta surprised when we got back to the office and I asked him if I could start chopping weeds now that I was well fed.

        Well, I may not be too smart but am persistent and I finally got hired full time, but it was nine years later…..as a Roustabout!

        One of the most pleasant summers I ever spent was picking cotton. We got to the farmer's house before daylight, waited till he said OK, then we went to work. We picked that damn cotton all day until it got dark. Made almost fifty cents every day! Ole farmer was real picky too about the cotton we picked. He eyeballed every handful to make sure we hadn't put rocks or chunks of dirt in there to make it heavier. (We got paid by the pound.)

        Well, along about the end of summer, my Mother let me drive our brand new 1939 Plymouth car back home from where my Father had parked it about a mile away. She said, 'Don't try to put it in the garage." Naturally I thought ha! I will show her what a great car driver I am. Somehow or other the side of the garage moved over just as I was going in and I busted one of the headlights. Can you imagine, they took ALL my summer cotton picking money to pay for replacing the headlights! All of it!

        The next summer after I had got my red bicycle with balloon tires for Christmas, I decided to become a rich salesman. My Daddy built me a rack to hold Coca Cola bottles to go on my handlebars and I set out to become wealthy. My captive customers were the Roustabout Gang. I will say that those guys were mighty happy to see me, even if my Cokes had warmed up a bit, and I got a nickel for every one of them! Had paid three cents to the Coca Cola company and was making big profit of two cents on every one I sold if I returned the bottles! One day I hit a hole in the dirt road and had a terrible wreck. It was terrible because I busted all them empty bottles and there went my profits for the week!

        OK folks, I have a request for you. (A) If you like my stories, (B) don’t like them, or (C) just don't give a damn one way or the other please let me know. I know you all are extremely busy so just respond with an A, B or C if you want to. Thanks!