Crude Observations

Same Old Story?

It’s been a weird week. I have found myself wanting to write about the current surge in oil prices which, it has been noted, are up $100 from their trailing 12 month low of -$37 a barrel. This in and of itself is a truly astounding development that flies in the face of everything we have been told about the pandemic and the drastic drop in demand (unless of course you read this blog).


But I feel I need to park that for a while and continue my journey from last week wherein I reviewed some pretty awesome and interesting factoids about the Canadian energy industry and added in some bonus highlights of my own.


And being a student of history, I couldn’t resist digging even deeper into the archives and when I got to the bottom, lo and behold, what should I discover but a dog-eared musty, trusty, rusty, mcdusty old manuscript.


Intrigued, I brought it home to my carbon-dating manuscript authenticator and, much to my surprise, I discovered that this very script was an actual, factual, tactile contractual original story written by none other than one Doctor Sous, who, as we all know, is the Alberta-resident, distant cousin of that more famous Doctor … Doolittle. Ironically, of course he also went to school with the more infamous Seuss of doctoring fame.


At any rate, here I was with this document, a story as it turns out, and all the while the Seuss name itself suddenly seemed to be all the news could talk about, especially news with a foxy bent.


Whatever could be going on, I asked myself, as I slunk down the stairs, to make pundits so angry and rage on the airs? What could make all these hacks, ignore the news about vax, and complain they’d been stabbed in their backs?


Turns out that old Seuss was a man of his times, and scribbled some nasty stuff in his rhymes. So his kin made the call and pulled some stories, not all, reasoning racism (intended or not) was worth the recall.


The ones that were left, had imaginative heft, but not rude or engaged in cultural theft. Which should have been it, for the right or the left.


Meanwhile I had this long-lost penned tale,

about Energy, Alberta and Shale.


So I figured to get it out quick, minus words that made me say ick.


But for those folks fiercely pressing

To proclaim a rebound

In markets that have so long been aground.

This poem might seem somewhat distressing.


Oil’s sure on a run,

Stock prices are fun

But let’s not let hope,

Play us all for a dope.


And now here it is, to read rain or shine,

Presented in full, i.e. line by line.


And to Think That I Saw it on Energy Street


When I sit at my desk after coming to work,

Investors often ask of me

Good sir, pay attention,

And see what you can see.


But when I say where I’ve been

And what I think that I’ve seen,

They look at me sternly and say,

“Your eyesight’s much too keen.


Stop telling tales of woe and doom.

Find me a bust that soon can boom.”


Now, what can I say,

When I get asked that today?


All the long way to work,

And all the way back.

I’ve scoped and I’ve scouted,

And I’ve kept careful track,

But all that I’ve noticed,

Except my own feet,

Is a broken-down pickup,

On Energy Street


That’s nothing to brag of,

That won’t do of course.

Just a broken-down pickup,

Not even a horse.


That can’t be my pitch, a market that’s slumping.

I’ll say that a hemi pulled a pump that was pumping!

And that’s a story that no one can beat,

When I say that I saw it on Energy Street!


Yes, the hemi is fine,

But I think it’s a shame.

Such a magnificent truck,

With a pump that gets stuck.

The story would really be better and real

If instead of a pump it was a rig made of steel.

A rig made of steel is sure something to meet,

Drilling holes up the middle of Energy Street!


No, that won’t do at all,

A hemi’s too small.


A big rig is better

It’s strong and it’s neat.

And it’ll look pretty sweet,

Cruising up old Energy Street.


Hold up just a second,

Something’s amiss.

A rig move’s a failure

If your tractor is missing an appropriate trailer.


A tractor and trailer can move rigs and more.

Like sand and pipes from the pipelining store.


Hmm, a tractor/trailer and rig for drilling

That seems pretty boring

All they get used for are towing and coring.

We need something bold that won’t leave us snoring.


It isn’t too late to make one little change,

A shiny new pressure pumper. Now there’s something strange.


I’ll pick one with hoses of all shapes and sizes,

Whose big diesel engine belches smoke that rises.

And then just to make it a little more fun,

I’ll add in some frac sand, maybe a ton!


Say, that makes a story no one can beat,

When I say that I saw it on Energy street.


But now I don’t know…

It still doesn’t seem right.


A pumper alone,

Doesn’t feel very useful.


So I’ll add in some crew

Old hands and some that are youthful.


And now it is time for the drillers to start,

And the pumpers to load their sand in a cart.

When the hole’s finally drilled there’s ‘bout 5 miles to frac,

Here’s hoping the pavement doesn’t crinkle or crack.


But now what is this? Is this oil that I see?

From out of the ground, like Alberta sweet tea?

That trickle will soon be a gusher for sure,

So we’ll gather it up, a tank is the cure!


But now what worries me is this.

Energy Street has no gutter, and the sewer’s amiss.


Unless there’s a pipe that can ship it around,

The oil might as well just stay in the ground.


It takes a pipeline to do the trick,

To ship the oil whether thin or thick.

It takes a pipeline to do the trick,

Build it now and we’ll ship and not spill!

With that Liberal Trudeau paying the bill.


The Premier is there

He’s digging the hype!

And he honks his Ram’s horn,

As he drives by rig, pump and the pipe.


The Premier is there,

And MLA’s too.

All waving big banners

Saying we love oil too!


And that is a story that no one can beat.

When I say that I saw it on Energy Street


With a roar of its motor, a dump-truck appears,

And dumps out cold hard cash, while everyone cheers.


And that makes a story that’s really not bad!

But it still could be better. Suppose that I add…….


Some natural gas

That flares late at night.


A very cold tank

That freezes the gas


A windmill

That plays to the greens.


No time for more,

I’m almost back.


I swung round the corner

And dashed through the gate,

I’d started an oil boom,

Oh boy it felt great!




But the investors quite calmly,

Said calm down and sit

And tell us the sights

Is the market legit?


There was so much to tell, I JUST COULDN’T BEGIN!

The drill, the oil pipeline, the energy win!

The investors just sat there and finally spoke

Were there no riches to be had from all of that smoke?

Will we make out like bandits or are we still just flat broke?


Nothing I said, growing red as a beet.

But a broken-down pickup, on Energy Street. 

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