Remember when you were four? You as the hero on the fire engine, frantically shaking the rope with the shiny golden bell, being the coolest in the blue convertible, riding, wind in your hair, with almost sonic speed? You on that horse with the pretty saddle and the big eyes, on the plane, the motorbike. Sounds, lights, colors melting to one big cacophony, flitting glimps of your moms shiny eyes, waving hands, the shiver of irritated senses? Ooooh so exciting! One more ride, please!