One of my fondest memories of growing up in California was taking the bus from Mountain View to Santa Cruz to spend the day. I and my friends didn’t have cars yet, and so the $5.OO we spent for the round trip ride to and from the beach was pretty cool. The bus ran up to the beach once a day from my town–we caught the bus at eight in the morning and arrived at the beach at around ten or eleven. The first thing was to go and rent a locker. Then we would go and grab some burgers and hit the beach. g The sand on the beach was blistering hot…we got in the water as soon as we could-watching out for the Portuguese man-of war that were always there…and contrary to Nat King Coles’ song— we DID get our bikinis wet! Later on the boardwalk, we would take on the roller coaster that would climb to the top in the dark, and then twisting and spiraling-plunge to the bottom. A bit dizzy, we would stumble off in search of thirst quenchers and more food…the sticky sweet caramel apples and fluffy cotton candy that drew the young ( and young at heart]like flies. After a full day, we would head for the bus stop, lugging our “treasures” won at the arcade games. and wishing we really had used the suntan lotion we packed. The ride home seemed very short; as in all trips of pleasure, the getting there always seems longer. b