I confessed several years ago that I spent many hours as a youth in a bass boat. We also spent hours in a camper, either on our way to a place where we could get into a bass boat, or on our way to a river or stream which contained other sorts of fish.
The camper also took us skiing and to things like the Muensterfest or the Cheyenne Rodeo. I have a very vivid memory of my mother braiding a blue ribbon into my hair and a yellow ribbon into my cousin, Joey’s, hair. We were resplendent in Wyoming that year, as pudgy 10-year-olds, with our Heidi braids and our belts with our names on the back. Don’t deny the cultural value of a youth of relative transience. I had fun, lots of fun, deviled ham sandwiches and all.