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Roadtrips to Florida for vacation. Piling into the car, the family would somehow make the trek the hundreds and hundreds of miles to get deep into the center of the state or visit the beach. The smell of the air conditioner in the hotel was intoxicating (literally -- it might have been leaking) and that scent still reminds me of summers now gone. The beach, Disney, hotel swimming pools... and people call me crazy for moving to FL.
There is nothing that can quite compare to enjoying a good solid three months of summer vacation. Screw school, screw responsibilities -- just riding the bike for no damn reason until you nearly collapsed, water gun fights into the night that was illuminated by lightning bugs, and the ability to willingly get up early on Saturday to stare at bad animation for several hours.
I miss washing the car with Dad, who was pleased to have my help even if I did scratch the paint a couple times or "accidentally" sprayed him with the hose.
Without a doubt, I still live a lot of these experiences because I choose to. How boring is it, I mean, to be an adult and act as one? Fuck that -- give me the remote so I can put on cartoons and pass me that box of Coco Puffs. There are two things that I simply cannot relive because, well, you just can't: the amazing feeling of awe on discovering something for the first time (all the way from Dad giving me my first pocket knife to the glorious moment of getting my learner's permit to drive) and the time spent as a child with my parents who were surprisingly tolerant of my nagging questions, injuries, and screw-ups that resulted in property damage. If I could have anything back, it'd be the ability to rewind and experience those events all over again.
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