My husband and I, in our just-post-college days, sat on natural gas drill rigs (OK, technically we worked in mudlogging trailers beside the rigs, both being bachelor’s degree baby geologists then). The best rig we ever worked on (multiple times) was run by a toolpusher (foreman) who went by “Cotton.” He was a taskmaster to his guys. He himself wore jeans and a(n un-embellished) t-shirt that started every tour (shift) as spotless, and any rig hand who wasn’t actively engaged in drilling at the moment was on some part of the rig with a can of paint, painting.

It was the cleanest, best-maintained, most organized rig in the Sacramento Valley, and the roughnecks tended to have all their fingers and teeth. Cotton demanded discipline and good order, and his guys, while they worked hard painting (and doing all other maintenance – but they had time to paint because he never let mechanical maintenance get away from him), were in less danger and were more efficient in their skills than on any other rig I ever worked. They liked being Cotton’s hands; they fought to stay on his rig.

I figure that’s why one polishes brass.

(OT for this post but OnT for drilling, I just found this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dxw03U0yLAQ) video of rig hands making pipe connections. Whew. Brings back memories… and makes me wonder anew how ANY of them kept their fingers.)