John McLoone

We received an unexpected windfall this week.
Maybe “windfall” is overstating it. It was more of a very light breeze.
My wife is a lot of things. She does all the things a great wife does. She cooks, cleans and used to iron my shirts, back when ironing shirts was still a thing. She works hard, was a supermom and wears the term “Grandma Lolo” with pride.
She is also, we learned, somewhat of an oil baron.
Through some descendants a few branches away on the family tree, there’s apparently an oil well on some land somewhere in southern Illinois. She owns zero-point-a bunch of other zeroes and another number percent of that oil business.
Her annual check hit last week. We’re not ready to load up our belongings and move to Beverly - Hills that is – just yet. We’re trying to remain grounded and see what our future holds. She’s keeping her day job. That’s the kind of humble person she is. She’s sticking with her SUV, and I’m still managing my fleet of four beaters with a total of 900,000 miles on them. We’re still going to be going out for 99 cent wings and hitting meat raffles. We’ve vowed not to let this change our lives.
It would be hard for some folks, conceiving of having an oil well in their portfolio. We had to shop Saturday for an upcoming family wedding, because apparently something happened to my suits. They just don’t fit like they used to. I eyed up one of those Stetson hats like I picture oil tycoons wearing. Perhaps the time will come.
The first check was slightly underwhelming. This oil well is obviously underperforming. I don’t know the business of running oil wells, but I expect this thing maybe is only cranking out a couple quarts of 5W-30 a year. C’mon now! We’ve got to make this country energy independent. It’s not going to happen with this level of output. If I knew where this oil field was located, perhaps I’d pay them a visit and offer some pointers that I’m sure they’d appreciate as the husband of someone who owns about a 10,000th share in the place.
In the midst of receiving campaign mail and invitations for free hearing tests – turning 60 brings a new level of junk mail – it was certainly exciting to see something that looked like a check. A check it was, indeed.
The check, though, didn’t even cover the amount it took to mail it. In fact, you’d have to go all the way back to 2021 before the US Postal Service started adding about a dime a year onto the cost of stamps to have this check equal the postage. As a sidebar, that bit of research kind of shocked me. The cost to mail a letter has doubled in three years, and it takes days longer for them to reach their destination.
But our dividend check for this oil well hit our mailbox, and my wife tucked all 36 cents of it into savings. Back to work we go!