- Member for
- 5 years 6 months
I moved to Dickinson almost seven years ago. Like many of the folks moving here I, too, did so for employment. Unlike many that are moving here today, I had visited Dickinson and knew about the great quality of life here on the Western Edge. When folks ask me where I’m from, I always say Dickinson because it is now home for my wife and I. But know that being here seven years doesn’t come close to qualifying me as a native.
What the heck happened? I went to sleep on May 15, woke up yesterday morning and it was the first day of August. I feel like I’m in a “Twilight Zone” episode. One minute I fall asleep, dreaming of soaking up summer sun and enjoying all the great things about summer in North Dakota. The next thing I know, I wake up and summer is almost gone. Everybody looks so much older and tanned.
While waiting outside for the oil to get changed in the company car on what was a beautiful summer day last week, I struck up a conversation with four other guys who were also waiting for their vehicles. They told me their names, but those are less important than who they were, where they came from and why. The first man was about 30 years old and had moved here from New Jersey “way back in 2008.” He had heard there were high-paying
I still can’t believe 40-years ago in June I graduated from high school, and it is not the type of thing you celebrate like a 10-year or 20-year reunion.
Scores of folks will line up to watch the annual Roughrider Days parade on Saturday. It’ll include the floats of class reunions. I have never attended a class reunion in large part because I moved so far away and partly because I’m not sure it is legally safe to return to the area.
Admitting you own a dachshund is not an easy thing for a man to do, so I have always told folks Pressley is my wife’s dog. I am quick to tell folks that I own Griff, a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon bird dog ugly enough and pretty stupid, but an acceptable masculine working hound. You would think dachshunds — and especially the miniature version — would suffer from low self-esteem, going through life after all being called a wiener dog and laughed at by everyone.
On Friday, Eric Shinseki resigned as secretary of the Veterans Affairs Department after meeting face-to-face with President Barack Obama about mounting evidence of widespread misconduct and mismanagement at the agency’s vast network of medical facilities. His resignation came after saying for weeks that he wanted to stay in his job to confront accusations that officials at the department’s hospitals had manipulated waiting lists to cover up long delays in scheduling appointments for thousands of veterans and to fix the problems. My dad served 24 years in the Army and Air Force.
I attended the Williston Basin Petroleum Conference in Bismarck on Wednesday. This year’s theme is Bakken Strong and the main three areas of focus were economy, technology and opportunity. Technology was what blew me away at last year’s conference in Regina, Saskatchewan. Driving home last spring, I realized that with all the technological advances there was no doubt that this was truly a long-term, world class oil play that was going continue for decades. Nothing that has happened since has lessened that belief.
Last week, my wife and I made our first visit to the East Coast, including New York City. Whoever coined the term “Melting Pot” to describe our county must have been in the Big Apple at the time. There were people from all over the world, each speaking a different language that all together seemed more prevalent than English.
The longer I live, there is a growing list of inventions that I never could have imagined. Most fail in comparison to the amazing new things my grandparents witnessed in their life, like automobiles, tractors, airplanes, spaceships, running water, electricity and telephones. Those inventions had a profound effect on their lives. One could argue that the good old days weren’t that good without them.