Oilfield Trash.

It’s a nickname for those that work in the oil business. It’s been around since I was a kid, and I’ve never heard it used in anger or to put down someone. For many in Louisiana, Texas and Mississippi, being called that is an honor. Some of the finest people I have ever known wore that moniker proudly.

Including my Daddy. I am the daughter of an oilman. One who took his engineering degree and developed (at the time) the world’s largest offshore oil rig. One who spent most of my life in the oil business. A man who was begged out of retirement after Hurricane Katrina cause the only rigs that made it through the storm were the ones he built. So yea, call me oilfield trash. I’m proud of it.

Eleven people are still missing and presumed dead after a rig explosion in the Gulf of Mexico earlier this week.

Please take a minute and keep them, their families and friends in your thoughts, your prayers, and your way of communicating with your higher power.

Oilfield Trash keeps this country moving.

Oilfield Trash makes it possible for you to go on vacation, to the grocery store, to take your kids to the ball field.

No matter your opinion on offshore drilling, the environment, the politics of oil or politics in general, it all boils down to the working man (and woman).

If you know someone who can wear the title of Oilfield Trash, hug their neck and thank them. They deserve it.