Headline: The Story of the Wine

"For over 30 years, my office was the Oklahoma oilpatch. I started as a pre-schooler in the cab of my father’s truck—an apprentice to the work and to life—and eventually spent two decades in management. These songs aren't just fiction; they are the distilled 'field research' of a lifetime lived from surface to core.

Watch the video for 'Hydrocarbon Wine' (left or above), then explore the visual 'storyboard' of the lessons and the life below."

A vintage, candid photograph reflecting my father in the Oklahoma oilfields. He is the original storyteller and the man who turned a workplace into a classroom for a pre-school apprentice.

A vintage, candid photograph reflecting my father in the Oklahoma oilfields. He is the original storyteller and the man who turned a workplace into a classroom for a pre-school apprentice.

A wide shot of a sun-drenched tank battery. This image captures the "smell" of the patch—that heavy, sweet scent of crude oil that signals home to anyone who has ever pulled a shift.

A wide shot of a sun-drenched tank battery. This image captures the "smell" of the patch—that heavy, sweet scent of crude oil that signals home to anyone who has ever pulled a shift.

A high-contrast close-up of dark, viscous crude oil flowing from a pipe. This is the "Hydrocarbon Wine" itself—the lifeblood of the industry and the literal inspiration for the song.

A high-contrast close-up of dark, viscous crude oil flowing from a pipe. This is the "Hydrocarbon Wine" itself—the lifeblood of the industry and the literal inspiration for the song.

A weathered pump jack silhouetted against the horizon, its horse-head in mid-motion. It represents the rhythmic "metronome" of the oilfield that has set the beat for my music for over 30 years.

A weathered pump jack silhouetted against the horizon, its horse-head in mid-motion. It represents the rhythmic "metronome" of the oilfield that has set the beat for my music for over 30 years.

A view through a truck dashboard while making morning rounds. This represents the early 1960s—the perspective of a young boy checking the wells with his father.

A view through a truck dashboard while making morning rounds. This represents the early 1960s—the perspective of a young boy checking the wells with his father.

A modern-day view through a truck windshield overlooking a production site. This reflects my 30 year connection to the oilfield —the same view as the boy, but seen through the eyes of a man who lived the work.

A modern-day view through a truck windshield overlooking a production site. This reflects my 30 year connection to the oilfield —the same view as the boy, but seen through the eyes of a man who lived the work.

A warm, interior shot of my mother with a fresh peach pie. It represents the "soft" side of a hard-working life—the comfort and hospitality that balanced the grit of the oilfields.

A warm, interior shot of my mother with a fresh peach pie. It represents the "soft" side of a hard-working life—the comfort and hospitality that balanced the grit of the oilfields.

A physical photo album spread open, showing snapshots of Mom, Dad, and me working in the patch. This is the visual record of the "lessons" learned while living off the hydrocarbon wine.

A physical photo album spread open, showing snapshots of Mom, Dad, and me working in the patch. This is the visual record of the "lessons" learned while living off the hydrocarbon wine.

The Velma, Oklahoma water tower standing tall over the town. It’s the final landmark—the "home of the lessons and life" that anchors every story I tell through Hydrocarbon Wine Media.

The Velma, Oklahoma water tower standing tall over the town. It’s the final landmark—the "home of the lessons and life" that anchors every story I tell through Hydrocarbon Wine Media.