Amarillo, Texas

Amarillo, Texas.

People make fun of Amarillo, Texas - I'm sure for lots of reasons: Mid-sized city (yes, it IS, Honey!) with small town attitudes; Route 66; Cowboys, and rednecks, and pick-up trucks and dualies; dry summer heat, and snow storms in the winter. What's not to poke fun at????

I used to complain about it too, until a dear friend (we were 19 at the time), said "You're an adult. If you hate it so much, you can leave. Really, Kathy, I'm tired of hearing it." Thanks for the reality check, Tracy!! Anyway, I realized she was right. I eventually did leave. . . then moved back. My own personal journey led me to realize that it's all in the attitude (thanks, Dad), and you can be happy anywhere, if you choose to be.

So after a while, Amarillo "wasn't so bad." I liked it for a lot of reasons. Still do.

I had my First Love in Amarillo. Harold Moses, big muscle-man, who, as it turns out, was the TWIN of Russell Crowe with a mustache, (before RC was a household name), and "a few" years older. Surely, I'm not the only one who has noticed this! Loves had and loves lost don't always leave you with a great taste in your mouth, but you can't just forget your first love. I've always been a late bloomer and I didn't have my first love until I was 19 years old - no jokes, please, I was just finally glad someone wanted to date me! So hats off, to Amarillo, and Harold, and LOVE.

I owned my classic Ford Mustang (1964 1/2) in Amarillo. It was a COOL car - dual exhaust, powder blue (until I had it repainted royal-sparkley blue), a little trashed but sexy with the young blonde driver. I have special memories of driving little Sarah around, and her safety slogan learned at school: "Buckle up, buttercup!" And all my cassette tapes (man! am I old?) being stolen out of the front seat while my baby was parked at the Tascosa Country Club - what is up with that? Parking in a lot where the Mercedes and BMWs are, and MY trashy little car gets JACKED. Poor little Mustang had a weak heater, so the snowy part of winter was BRUTAL, like driving a motorcycle in the 40 degree weather, but not.

I earned my Master's Degree in Psychology while in Amarillo (okay, the college was in Canyon, but you can't really count that, can you?) . I felt smart, competent, and ever-so-collegiate, and was able to graduate with a respectable GPA. I can't hold my B's against Dr. Gary Byrd - I mean, after all, I'm no genius and I worked damn hard for those B's. (I'm sure I'm not the only one of Dr. Byrd's students who drove home to Amarillo in tears after one of his tests - what doesn't kill us makes us stronger!) I walked across a collapsable stage in the Amarillo Civic Center, proudly carrying my leather diploma case, never having worked so hard at anything in my whole life. My advisor, Dr. Don Johnson (no, not THAT Don Johnson), gave me sound advice early in my post-graduate career, and for this I am eternally grateful: "It's not the smartest people who succeed in a Master's program or in life. It's the people who don't give up." Well, by God, if I can't be the smartest, I can at least be the most persistent! Thanks, Dr. Johnson.

I met and married the love of my life in Amarillo: my husband, Tom Tortoreo - another of the many who has never been a big fan of Amarillo, Texas. My first marriage tanked (that's a whole 'nother story), Southern California brought me no real contenders, and a few mis-steps later, I found myself single at 35, thinking the man carrying the "little swimmers" (sperm - duh) I needed must have long ago made his escape. I had one tearful night, again lamenting my exile into singlehood, but then had a brilliant idea. I joined a dating service - coincidentally started and formerly run by my own former-whatever (that's ALSO a whole 'nother story), and the third man I selected for a date turned out to be the perfect fit for me. After a couple of dates, I realized I had even typed up and prepared his information sheet when he joined the dating service when run by my former-whatever. Cracks me up, even now.

I became a mom to two daughters in Amarillo, when I married Tom. Kelsey, 11 years old, was Tom's "Best Person" in the wedding, and Cassandra, 8 years old, was my Maid of Honor. I couldn't have asked for a better fulfillment of my dream, than to be a wife and mom all at the same time, since, at 36 years old, I was running out of time to start a family - worked out well for me. Hopefully, I haven't damaged them too much in trying to be the perfect mom (no-such-thing, never-gonna-happen, what-the-hell-was-I-thinking?, etc.). I still wonder how my mother kept her sanity with 5 kids, when I struggle with it with fewer than that. But then I remember, mom did have to get counseling at one point. Hopefully, she's forgiven us for that.

I had my baby boy in Amarillo. After two miscarriages, the third pregnancy "took," and I got knocked up, much to the delight of the girls, the husband, and my parents. Yes, my mother did give me the question a couple of times (even when I was still single and looking) about when I might get her a grandchild, but only in good fun, with always a pinch of seriousness. I knew I would have a son, for several reasons. The reason I like the best is when my sister Kristi sent me a recording of her Spiritualist's reading that she felt a male energy anxious to cross over to me. My pregnancy was excellent. I knew it was a boy before the sonogram confirmed it. I threw up only once (but that could have been more about the shrimp and asparagus wrapped in bacon than about the boy), had ZERO headaches after the second month of pregnancy, and have vividly fond memories of Halloween, 2004, during which the baby's kicks and movements were so distinct as to be my "first" movements of the baby. Many of you know about the story of his birth (19 days in NICU, see TheMiracleOfMarcello at BabyHomePages for the full story), and he's been a joy ever since. He loveslovesLOVES his big sisters, and adores his dog, Birdie the Dalmatian.

My parents are still in Amarillo, so a piece of my heart is still there too. I miss them a lot, and wish we could visit more often. I know they miss the three grandchildren more than they miss the daughter and the son-in-law, but we feel the love often. We'll probably never move back, but we'll certainly buy a Spring/Autumn home there if we ever win the lottery (summers - too hot; winters - too snowy). I don't need to see the Cadillac Ranch - I've seen it too many times while riding my bicycle on the access road on I-40, heading west into Adrian. I don't need to go to the Big Texan for a 72 ounce steak - that much beef scares me. I don't need to see Palo Duro Canyon too many more times, although I might like to. The musical Texas is always charming, and you only get rained out from it about half the time!!

Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get the chance to visit again soon!