I was a happy kid, growing up in our brick house with my parents and two older brothers. The town we lived in was a small coal mining town. Not tiny, it had a population of about 9,000. My memories of growing up include the usual stuff, I suppose. My friends, school days, teachers, boyfriends, extracurriculars, favorite music, etc.
|brick streets = ratlly cars|
The residents are not typically affluent, but they are generous and friendly. There were plenty of large families that made for huge weddings. Some, it seemed nearly the whole town was in attendance, and yet everyone managed to take home a plate of homemade Italian cookies.
Oh, and it also happened to be the sex change capital of the world.
Not the sex change capital of the west, not the sex change capital of America, but the sex change capital of The World.
A certain skilled and pioneering surgeon, who also happened to have a preference for small town life, gave it that distinction.
The story has it that a woman approached the good doctor and asked if there was something he could do about her dislike for her female body. Surgically. He couldn't at the time, but that didn't stop him. He learned. And that got the balls rolling... so to speak *ahem*.
There have been news segments, a documentary was made, but I think for most of us that lived there, the title didn't affect our day-to-day all that much. Around the state, however, my hometown seems to be known for that one thing and that one thing only. It has sort of a carnival side-show connotation.
Whenever I tell someone where I'm from, I brace for the awkward silence, the raised eyebrows, the questions, the furtive glances - searching for an Adam's apple perhaps? Some stray facial hairs? Big hands and/or feet?
Outside of Colorado, most have never heard of my little hometown, unless they have a passing interest in "gender reassignment surgery".... or Gunsmithing school.
|1980 something something...|
To me, it's just where I spent my formative years. It's just where I made friendships that have lasted a lifetime. It's home.
And I don't know beans about Gunsmithing either.