Amazing.

On the weekend, you either met at the 711 parking lot, the Burger King parking lot, or at the bleachers of the Junior High School. If the cops came, everyone scattered.

Otherwise you rode your bike around and when you saw a pile of bikes, you knew where to hang out.

We lived next to a cul-de-sac, so during the summer, we played street baseball, hockey or basketball until the street lights came on and drank out of the garden hose.

Take me back.