I was a little kid back in the late 1970s. My most prized possession was my Misty Rose banana seat bike. I rode it around the whole neighborhood, all by myself. Back then, parents (or at least mine) had no fear of children being abducted or otherwise harmed. I certainly didn’t grow up with such fears. I guess my only dangerous encounter was when I was riding down a quiet road one day, daydreaming, only to be snapped out of my trance by the sound of a braking car. I then looked, and quickly stopped my bike staring head on with the car. I remember apologizing to the driver, and them warning me to pay more attention.
There were a couple little stores in the area, Continue reading