Secret Aging Man: What a Catch!

It was a dark and stormy night...but at least the redfish was biting!

You won't find redfish in Southern Illinois or Tallahassee (at least not live ones still in the water), and Secret Aging Man was sure chomping at the bit to catch one after our Christmas visit with Daughter and her husband. As soon as we dropped anchor (the Lance camper) at our spot in Navarre's Santa Rosa RV Resort, SAM hightailed it to the end of the fishing pier so he could drop some bait (live shrimp) in the Sound and try his luck. A few other hardy souls (including yours truly) joined him there as it began to rain. The rain held on and so did his luck. He caught the only fish of the evening and asked around if anyone had a cleaning table? No luck there, so he took matters into his own hands and used the bed of the trusty Dodge truck to filet the fish.

After our tasty supper of pan-fried fish, I asked him what he intended to do with the bloody remains on the bed of truck? Surely not let the rain wash it off? This RV resort is kind of classy. We felt like the Jed Clampetts (in reverse) of the camping world with our crater-dashed Dodge truck and little Lance truck camper. I'm surprised they even let us stay, what with all of the fancy rigs parked there. SAM just smirked a little and left me to tidy up our tiny camper kitchen. He was back a few minutes later and assured me that there would be no tell-tale signs of the redfish slaughter for any of the other campers to see come morning. This kind of camping comes with the convenience of a car-washing place nearby. My Secret Aging Man--what a catch!

A view of Navarre Beach from the fishing pier at Santa Rosa RV Resort

Moving Forward But Still 'Lookin' Out My Back Door': Watching the Slow, Painful Death of the Illinois Oil Industry

Peaceful autumn scene from Lake Murphysboro State Park

The plummeting price of oil elicits barely a ripple of reaction from most Southern Illinoisans. They're not the ones who have lost good-paying jobs. Again. "Drilling for Oil in Southern Illinois?" No fracking way! Not now and maybe never again, if current conditions continue for too much longer. Experienced oilfield geologists, engineers, and drilling equipment operators are going the way of the dinosaurs. And now that sanctions on Iran have been lifted, even more oil from the Middle Eastern countries will flow like wine from California, glutting the market and gutting the oil industry here in Illinois and elsewhere in the United States.

One of the many sinkholes at Leon Sinks Geological Area

So what? you might say. Isn't it grand paying less at the pump? Cheap, cheap, cheap! Sure it is, until there's another oil embargo imposed on us (sheep, sheep, sheep) by those friendly folks over there in the Middle East. I'm sure there are still some people here in the States who remember the sinking feeling of waiting for hours in line for fuel only to be told there's no more of it to be had until the next shipment comes in, courtesy of those friendly folks over there in the Middle East.

Our trusty, crater-dashed Dodge truck and Lance camper

In that case, our trusty, crater-dashed Dodge truck and Lance camper might have to be turned into permanent yard ornaments or sold for scrap.

Lookin' out the back door of the Lance camper at Navarre Sound

And in that case, we (or any other camping folk) wouldn't dream of heading (moving forward) down the highway to Florida. Yuletide visit with Daughter and Son-in-law? Forget it. You'd better get used to lookin' out your back door because fuel is in short supply, and it's stay-cation from here on out. That is, if you still have a home or community in Southern Illinois in which to enjoy that stay-cation. Guess who pays a lion's share of income and property taxes in many counties around here? That's right. Those fricking-fracking oil producers and mineral right owners do, as long as there's income and oil property to tax.

Forward troubles Illinois

Lock the front door, oh boy!

Look at all the happy

Creatures dancing on the lawn.

Bother me tomorrow,

Today I'll buy no sorrow.

Doo, doo, doo,

Lookin' out my back door.

--John Fogerty/CCR