I took a drive by the beach at 11:00 the other night to take a look at the moon. It wasn’t quite the “super moon” anymore, but it was still big and bright. As I slowly drove down the one-way beach road, windows down, music loud, I noticed how many teens were out and about.
Several groups of just boys or just girls, a couple of mixed groups, and lots of couples. All looking impossibly young to be out on their own at 11:00 at night. Then again, I’ve always looked impossibly young for whatever stage of life I’m in. (I blame this skewed perception of age on TV and movies, where most teen roles are played by non-teens.)
Then I remembered my own days as a teen hanging at those very same beaches (yup, I’m a lifer here in my hometown!). The thick summer air cut only by the cool breeze off the water. Crickets chirping and waves lightly crashing. Too-short shorts not covering enough skin. Sand squishing between my toes.
It was summer and we were free. Free from school, free from wearing all but the skimpiest of clothing, and free to be reckless and stupid. My friends and I were most likely doing things we probably won’t tell our kids about now and things we definitely didn’t want our parents to find out about then. Those were the days, indeed!
It’s good writing fodder to have a rush of memories like that. Makes me feel both young and old, if you know what I mean. What are your fond memories of summertime as a teen?