Some Things Get Better
December, 1986
The best moment I ever had in Evanston, Wyoming, was leaving it. I'd spent a couple of months there in the summer and fall of 1981, roughnecking on the oil rigs, living with other guys who had somehow become desperate enough to go looking for work in a boom town; and very soon, it was clear that I was in over my head. Again.Desperate for me meant I was broke and in a crumbling marriage; and though going 1000 miles from home to write about life on the rigs was a reckless move, at least it was a m...
