Was away for a day. Didn't have internet access at the hotel. Started gettin' the shakes from the withdrawal symptoms.

Most of the time with work, we have meetings in hotels. It's a simple life really. Hurry up for a day to get everything ready for the meeting. Make the copies. Build the powerpoint. Get MPEGs of all the spots. Pack the extra mouse and powercord. Remember to forward voicemail and email. Call the airport to find out which terminal and gate. Race down the highway. Get fast food for lunch at the drive thru. Fight for the last spot in short term parking. Breeze through security. Board the plane and promptly fall asleep from exhaustion and stress.

Upon landing it's straight to the hotel to do run throughs and make last minute changes before dinner. And, of course, there are ALWAYS changes. Fix a word here, adjust line spacing here, adjust two numbers…if the clients asks, you know it must be important.

Dinner is always at the finer establishments. Outback, Olive Garden, Chili's. The menu of every establishment is memorized.

Once back at the room it's time for a quick call home before spending two hours flipping channels and fighting indigestion. Hotel cable sux. There's no DVR/Tivo. There's bad local access. And most of the time, HBO is showing something old. Insomnia rules the time in the hotel. Road warriors go slowly crazy.

The next morning, the alarm goes off too soon. But, the gameface is required, regardless of the lack of energy and desire. It's smiles for the client and witty banter. How was your room? Yes, I made the changes.

This time, however, the meeting was not held at the hotel. It was held at the Petroleum Club in downtown Midland. The knowledgeable reader will recognize that place and city as the launching point for a certain president. It was interesting. It was ironic.

It's a private club for the business leaders of the town. Oil is Midland. And, the wells are pumping fast these days. It's a town of boom and bust cycles and the boom has never been better. Walking through the halls of the building I observed the pictures on the walls. I took note of the plaques of members and participating companies. I thought about the history and the money. I thought about the prez. But, it's not an opulent place. It's a conservative town with conservative taste. Their club is equally muted.

Our meeting was to talk about automotive advertising. And, quiet but disparaging jokes were made about oil prices and fuel economy. In the next room, though, oil prices were probably being celebrated. Oil price is what defines the boom and bust there. The livelihood of every member of that club depends on oil.

But, nearly an hour of our meeting was spent in discussion of E85. And, soon, E85 will be a term everyone will know as well as the hybrid term. To talk about E85 in the Petroleum Club was very ironic.