I was born in 63. Lubbock, TX. I would get on my bike and ride for hours, down to Candy Land park, South Plains mall, TG&Y, Gibsons, you name it, and sometimes even to Texas Tech University. As long as I was home by noon for lunch, dinner, and right before the street lights went on. I had baskets on my bike.

My mom would send me to the grocery market with a list and a blank check. This included buying her a carton of Tareyton Cigarettes. Mary would have my items for me in a few minutes, she would fill out the check and give me the receipt. I would always get about a quarter back, and I was then allowed to stop at Peytons Drugstore (amazing place) and buy a bag of candy. I would also ride to the Butchers Meat Store and pick up all of the pre ordered meat in white paper. I would later use the same white paper to draw on. That man was incredibly nice. When I spent the summers in West Texas with my Grandmother (Peyote Texas, look it up) I would take my Daisey BB Gun and go exploring thru the mesquite bushes, sand, railroad tracks, for hours. Nearest neighbor was about a mile or more away. Absolutely amazing times.
When my dad bought a Shamrock Gas station, we had a little bit of money, so he bought me a Yamaha 80:

Think I was around 12 or 13 then. I rode the piss out of this thing. Until my dumbass big brother totaled it, then the stupid ass tried to blame it on me. Idiot. Regardless, I loved that bike and had many good times on it.
I had a great child hood. Middle class for sure, and I could spend hours at a dirt field, cornfield, neighbors backyard and have a BLAST! Life was good. Very good. I wish I could let my girls roam freely like I did, but I know better.
What a shame.