Recently, I went back to Amarillo, Texas at the center of the Texas Panhandle. This trip to the home of my boyhood has already brought back memories from those days so long ago.
Memories like the time I got hold of some cheap wine. That story is a might too embarassing to tell except to say that I have not like wine much since then.
My sister reminded me of the A&W Root Beer stand that Dad would take us to on the occasional Sunday afternoon. He would get us small root beer floats while he got one the size of a wash bucket. I remember thinking there was no justice in the world.
My wife, sister, and I drove by the old neighborhood. The fields of my youth are long gone, replaced by houses. The neighborhood known then as Chateau Village, now some fifty years old, has seen better days. The old house on Hall is run down now and in sad shape. The grass that my mother worked so hard on is dead after the drought that Texas has suffered for so long took its toll. The rest of the houses are in various states of age.
The schools we went to are still there. Remodeling has kept them up but they are essentially what they were in the 1960’s. I reckon you really can’t go back home.
What the trip has done is bring back a lot of memories that might eventually be stories. Like the time I took the Vice Principal’s bbq set home from school and it caught fire while in the truck of my car.
Then there was the time I got caught late one evening on Soncy Road visiting with a girl in my car. The police just did not understand that we were just talking about “different things.” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Oh! I attempted to drag race (if you want to call it that) in my 58 Chevrolet Biscayne (a.k.a. land yacht) against a 66 Mustang. That went real well.
(I did not do this – I swear) Some bozo poured a bunch of gasoline in the high school parking lot and threw a match to it. Really. Right after school too. Really, I DID NOT do it!!
I’ve lost count the number of times I got caught smoking in the bathroom or on the corner. Some of the circumstances behind those time are funny now. They weren’t back then.
More to come.