When I was growing up during the 80's in southern cali suburbia, I was a carefree girl who enjoyed playing outside until the street lights flickered on and we kid folk dispersed to our homes for bed.
Days were simple then.
My neighborhood was filled with kids. Some my age, some older, some younger, but it didn't matter because we all had one thing in common: we were hard core about playing.
Whether it was riding bikes, skateboards, or playing tag, we didn't mess around with playtime. There was no need for structured play dates or parental supervision in our hood. We had everything we needed just by having each other.
If there was one thing that I remember enjoying the most, it was roller skating. We had elementary school skate nights at our local skate ring, Skate Way, where I'd wish and pray for Adam Port to ask me to couples skate. And the one time that he did, I gushed to my friends,"I'm never washing this hand again!"
Sigh. Those were the days.
And as I practiced my jumps, spins, and backwards skating in my neighborhood, I knew life was good. Because it was.
And now when I catch a glimpse of roller skates, my heart skips a beat and I'm that young girl, skating in the neighborhood of my childhood without a care in the world.