The summer I graduated high school was out-of-my-head sensational.
I was thin for first time in my life. Beyond that, I was leaving Grant High in the top ten percent of my class heading to UCLA to study cytology. (Want a great nerdy pick up line? How about, “Hey babe, wanna see my endoplasmic reticulum?”) Eighteen-year-olds could vote and I was politically active, spending days with other “activists” registering voters.
However, the most exhilarating times were Los Angeles evenings with Suzanne, my first girlfriend. Our premier date was Magic Mountain amusement park.
Life simply could not be better.