Oh Lucky Day.

Short and sweet today, I've got a lot of Guinness waiting to be drunk.

Well after 16 days in Fort Worth, the good Lord decided to reward me with a vacation on one of me favorite holidays...St. Patty's Day. My Da has a bit o'irish in'em but no one believes me. But I reckon a day like today proves it. I have me an excellent job, money in the bank and no work to speak of on this festive eve.

I also want to tell you about a friend of mine, Patrick Mathes.* Pat is more of a character than a man but at 6'4" and 250lbs this 58 year-old man is an imposing figure. He's got a few scars and smokes about 3 packs a day. Big buck teeth and a pony tail frame his weathered grimace well. When I hear the Johnny Cash hit "A Boy Named Sue" I picture the father looking and acting just like ol' Pat Mathes. Yeah, he's a "charmer." And he's my friend. I don't want to spoil all of his stories about women and drinking...oh I've heard a few about ex-wives, gambling, stealing and stabbing and getaways in 58 Fords. But his best story is about his birth. The son of a Scottish-American oilfield worker and an Irish homemaker, Pat was born in the wake of the second great war, on a barge off the coast of Belfast, arguably in Scottish waters. I'm not sure if anyone really knows. His grandmother was a Scot through and through and when she saw his hand reach out of his mother's womb, she noticed something. He had an extra knuckle on his right, little finger.

According to his grandmother, this means that he is the "last defender of Scotland". I have no clue what that means and I can't recall what Pat said it means. But his grandmother worked to make him a Scottish citizen while his mother tried to make him an Irish citizen. His father overruled making him an American citizen and taking him back to Mississippi. According to legend he is no longer allowed to enter Scotland or Ireland. We know this because a terrible storm in the North Sea forced his platform rig to evacuate to the nearest point by helicopter which happened to be Aberdeen, Scotland where Patrick Mathes was unable to set foot on Scottish soil. However, being born to an Irish mother, he was flown to Ireland where he was allowed to sleep in the airport terminal just for the evening.

Pat Mathes is a Great American Oilfield man. He's worked in Africa, Alaska, every state in the US and most countries in Europe. Each year he works each day tirelessly, 24/7, no matter what...but know this: On January 1st of each year Pat Mathes will submit 2 vacation request forms. One form will be for December 25 and the other is for March 17. Whatever city Pat is in today, I garuntee you can find him in an Irish Pub drinking scotch.

As for Christmas, he'll be at home with his wife probably drinking Jack Daniels. Every other day, it's tequila...but not while he's working.

* The events and stories in this blog may or may not be true and are not to be accounted for as historical fact. The author has been known to add a little color to each story for the benefit of those who will listen and read.


Sláinte.
rf