I'm not gonna lie: Living in Midland, Texas kinda sucks sometimes. It is a boring, uptight little town in the middle of the Permian Basin sand, characterized by high taxes and low self-esteem. There's no real reason to even come to Midland, unless you just got a job in the energy industry and were relocated here.

That said, I -- for some reason I cannot rationally explain -- continue to live here. And as a professional artist and musician with a penchant for motorcycling, lets just say I have my work cut out for me. Still, I manage to do pretty well here, and that does provide me with some pretty unique opportunities to experience Midland in ways other residents might not think of.

For example, last night around 11 o'clock as my wife settled into bed, I put on my riding gear, rolled the Z-Rex out of the garage, and took a slow, quiet ride around the more upscale residential areas of town. For about an hour or so, I made the rounds, enjoying the 70-odd degree night air and complete absence of people or traffic. It was literally like having a city all to myself.

I passed by well-groomed yards accented with Malibu lights and such, some alongside city parks with manmade ponds and illuminated fountains. At night, you don't see the dirt lots and frequently brown-tinged skies visible in the daytime, and you sort of forget where you are. It was a nice ride, very nice indeed.

By the time I got home, I felt much better about living out here in BFE, and took a few moments to stand in the driveway with the garage open, staring up at the starry sky. Yes, my relationship with this town is very much one of love-hate, but I guess I'll stay a while longer. To paraphrase a line from a movie, I guess this is about as good a place as any; at least for the moment.