Seems like nothing stops anymore. The highways are busy, the airplanes are full, and the news cycle runs in a continuous loop. If we the people aren’t going and doing, we’re on the phone texting, or talking, or Googling and ogling.

When I was a kid, Sunday was a day of rest, and a holiday was a holiday. Nothing was open on those days. I mean nothing. No gas, no groceries, no Chuck E. Cheese, and no McDonald’s. Now, nothing is closed. Ever.

For the most part, the oilfield field has always been a 24/7/365 industry. When we’re on we’re on, so a holiday, a birthday and an anniversary is celebrated with a little extra cake or pie at mealtime, a thought, a comment to a fellow rig-mate, a phone call home, and a prayer.

Today was no different. It’s hot, but we grilled outside and rotated over a 120 men and women through for chicken, shrimp, and ribs, accented with beans and potato salad, then topped off with carrot cake.

The work goes on.

If you look on the calendar, the day of this posting is/was the 4^th of July, just another day if you’ve never been oppressed. When I was a kid, we still called it Independence Day.

That’s something to celebrate.