Men who sleep alongside them huskies. Men who brave the frozen Alaskan tundra. Oil-men that is. Men who eat raw seal - you know they do that don't you. Who takes care o' them huskies in a blizzard? I think you know who does. I think you know them huskies get a fear on theirselves in a blizzard.
Alaskan oil-men they doan need no boy-band music. They doan need no lonely-hearts column. They doan need any of that. Know what? When they fly south to see family, they ain't really listening. They're in another place. You know where their head is. You know that. C'mon.
But hey! Mind you make a point of walking with him on the way home from oil-school. Alaskan oil-men they sleep with hurt feelings too you know. An' see that Madeira cake you've baked there, he woan bite your head off if you offer him a slice at the end of an oily shift. You know that? But he woan be bakin no cake hisself. They doan do that. You think they do that? No they don't.
And know what? Alaskan oil-men they doan bother with no fresh mints. What? They doan shop for sandals. You wanna know what I saw yes'day? I saw one o' them ol' oil-men wringing out an angry ol' bear that he'd been carrying about, as his slave more'n likely, and he'd gone an' dropped the crittur in the stream. Tha's what I saw yes'day. Just sayin.
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