I do not like Amarillo, Texas.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
I do like my grandmother, and the only reason she’s in Amarillo is because she’s from Canyon and Amarillo was the closest place with the kind of assisted living she needs.
I do like chicken fried steak and cream gravy and mashed potatoes, and there’s a place in Amarillo that serves a most excellent version of those things.
But other than that, I could go several years without smelling a stockyard when I first walk out of a hotel room, and not miss it.
It wouldn’t bother me a bit if I never walked into a Walmart and saw 3 young men strung out on some kind of drug, harrassing 2 other young men who were apparently not on drugs.
I would not be upset if I never saw another size 20 woman apparently wearing her skinny 12 year old daughter’s spandex camisole.
Ok maybe I am going to say something about it…
It was good to see my grandmother. I am glad I did it.
It is also good to be home, and I am going to be very happy to sleep in my own bed tonight.
Without the whiff of stockyard or the roar of every single diesel tractor-trailer in the country blowing past my little bitty car.
The chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and cream gravy were delicious. Terry had the not-mythical chicken fried corn on the cob. Yes.