I watched a show on the CMT network the other day–quite by accident since I make it a point to never watch CMT. I don’t care for country music as a whole (regardless of how ‘progressive” sounding it’s become) and that whole blue gingham/fresh churned butter world does nothing for me. But the show by its very name intrigued me.
Five minutes into Bayou Billionaires, I knew its back story. It’s a very familiar TV premise, structured on the typical ‘fish out of water’ metaphor; the kind that made us laugh at Green Acres and The Beverly Hillbillies. It focuses on Gerald and Kitten Dowden and their family who live in Frierson, a tiny town in northern Louisiana which sits on top of the Haynesville Shale, which is something you have to understand to understand Bayou Billionaires.
It’s essentially a rock formation that underlies large parts of southwestern Arkansas, Louisiana and East Texas. It lies at various depths from 10,500 to 13,000 feet below the land extends in an area of 9,000 square miles. It contains vast quantities of natural gas known as “shale gas” produced from mudstones that are also the source for the natural gas. Geologists and energy type love shale gas because there’s so much of it and they can access all this gas due to improved technology such as horizontal directional drilling (drilling out, not down) and hydraulic fracturing which uses water, chemicals and extremely high pressure to ‘fracture’ through the ancient mud layers that comprise the shale.
Gerald and Kitten know a lot about this process and the reward the landowners can reap from it. They own or owned land on top of a good portion of the shale and from what I can tell, sold their mineral rights (something I WOULD NEVER have done) and that made them wealthy….each month, they receive ‘mailbox money” which is what they describe the day when their substantial six figure checks arrive in the mail each month. After 43 years of marriage that included plenty of scrimping, saving and penny-pinching in a very blue collar world, they’re now wealthy, as are many other residents in the area.
All of their kids live on a compound, of sorts. (THINK: The Kennedy’s, just without all that pesky clannish Catholicism) It’s nothing more than a few scattered mobile homes and Jim Walter looking structures, with a small but new in-ground pool on thee roperty. One son married a woman who he wrestles with as their infant daughter looks on. One daughter has that rode hard/hung up wet look. She gave Kitten and Gerald other grandchildren. She lives in a mobile home and speaks incessantly in double negatives. Another daughter says little, but smiles incessantly, I guess that’s to show off “them brand new teeth” Ma and Pa bought her. Her burned-out, ex-biker looking boyfriend Albert, has few teeth and that which he still has, kind of look like candy corn. I know nothing about him, but he sure looks like he could have worn a baby aspirin orange jump suit and was known by a number at one time in his life. He references prison from time to time, so one wonders. He’s definitely rough around they edges, as they say, but he seems affable and in love with his girlfriend whom he seemingly treats with love and respect. Oh yeah–Albert also goes by the names Carl and Jimmy. Aliases? Not sure, but he’s interesting. I understand in one upcoming episodes, he asks Gerald for money to start a catfish business which consists of a jet ski pulling a net on the river…or the lake. Hell, maybe it’s a bayou.
There’s another son, but I didn’t watch long enough to see his ‘on screen’ character flaws.
It’s interesting to watch the process of new-found wealth unfold around people who’ve never had it. What they buy and where they spend their money is so telling. Kitten wanted a car. One would think, she’d buy a Jaguar, a Mercedes-Benz at the very least. Nope, she chose to buy a Chrysler Sebring convertible. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just that one doesn’t associate that particular car with someone who just struck it rich. Hardly the kind of car tht would reflect oppulance. Then again, they might be very frugal people. And in theory, they’d be wise to be careful. The monthly installments for the sale of their Haynesville mineral rights will end someday. Everything is finite.
I was born and raised in Karnes County, located about 50 miles southeast of San Antonio. It’s also where the Eagle Ford Shale was discovered in 2009. Like the Haynesville Shale and the Barnett Shale almost more about 300 miles north, it produces natural gas and oil. More oil than gas, actually, and this has made many families in the area, South Texas equivalents of the Dowden’s.
One of the big investment firms was summoned to the courthouse in Karnes City (the county seat) for wealth management classes. After one seminar, a broker said he felt a meek tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw a shrivelled up little couple in their late 70’s. The old man reached in his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper and handed it to the broker asking,”What do we do with this?”
It was a check for well over a million dollars.
Coming into money makes for a very interesting turn of events, especially for those who’ve never had it. I understand those who covet it….and why. People think money is the answer to everything. It isn’t, but I believe there are times when it can offer hints to every question one might have.
Years ago, I remember having a conversation with a woman who came from a wealthy oil and ranching family in Laredo, a city on the Texas/Mexico border. Her mother had died years earlier and she and her brother stood to inherit all her father’s money. She was a single school teacher who lived a fairly meager life. Her brother and his wife were engineers with the city and at the time they had one young daughter. We met for drinks one night and the subject of money and wealth came up. She told me that she knew her life would someday change exponentially and there were times when that was a daunting reality. It wasn’t like she had never known money–she was raised on a ten thousand acre ranch with a nanny and maids and cooks. She was sent to an exclusive boarding school in San Antonio and spent her summers either abroad or at ritzy equestrian camps up in the northeast with other rich girls with old monied nicknames like Bitsy and Bunny.
She came from money but her father wanted to instill in her, independence. After college she had to work to support herself. Daddy only helped when she got in a jam, but only BIG jams. When she could barely afford to pay rent AND a few credit card bills on her teacher’s salary, she’d plot and plan her wealthy future, but would always allow that dream to shatter when she’d realize that it would have to come at the death of her beloved father. There is a cost, it seems, for everything.
Wealthy people, especially those who’ve had first hand experience with what’s it like to have–AND have not— possess a certain confidence about them. My Laredo friend had that air about her, even though she couldn’t rub two nickels together. There’s something about those who have it, even those who’ve had it and lost it. For those who have money (and by money I mean more than enough to breathe easy after bills are paid each month), they know they can afford “it” and whatever “it” is, doesn’t matter. They’re covered for life’s basic emergencies. They can afford a new tire or two; they can shell out whatever is needed for that new fuel pump….or pay outright for that foundation issue without contemplating the need to knock over a pawn shop to help cover the costs.
I’ve known many wealthy people in my life and yes, I’ve envied them. You know, that “grass is always greener…..” mindset. I would watch them pass me by looking all well healed while well wheeled–perfectly dressed in their shiny new cars as I sputtered along in a car built during the Carter administration wearing clothes sewn during Nixon’s. Yes, vintage clkothing, but not in that cool way. These were just old, hand-me-downs. Anyway, I would just sigh and think how lovely it would be to pay off every bill. Or at the very least, be able to make monthly payments on every bill owed and still have a little fiscal breathing room left over. I would envy them, thinking how much better being wealthy had to be, as if having six figures lying around in several different interest bearing accounts could automatically make people kinder and gentler; could quell heartache or eradicate cancer.
I would imagine that with all its faults, money has to at least give one options; ways to make life’s complexities easier or more tolerable. It would mean you’d have the means to buy something to compensate your troubles or afford go somewhere to take your mind off things. But eventually, new toys grow old and get-away vacations end and you have to come back home, right? You face what you have to face with grit or with greenbacks…both if you’re lucky. But I believe the reality, at its most basic premise, is that having money really only completely solves one problem: it eliminates the previous need for it.
The real power of money is in what you do with money…or in some cases, what you don’t do with it.
So, I guess it’s safe to say that those old clichés which are so hackneyed, are also ture: money can’t buy happiness and it can’t rent it, either. Although it might be a decent way to compensate for peace of mind. I suppose Gerald and Kitten Dowden of Northern Louisiana wouldn’t argue that point. Having money allowed them to buy their adult daughter a smile with a mouth full of brand new teeth.
Sometimes, maybe that’s all it takes.