Four kids and a babysitter walk into a shopping center.

That’s not the start of a joke, but rather a scene that tells you it’s 2009 and not 1994.

I saw the group the other day while in a drive-thru line at Taco Bell. The shopping center is a few miles south of my parents’ house–which has another shopping center about a mile to the north.

The kids looked like they were all in elementary school, maybe one of them in middle school. The chaperon was clearly leading the way on their midday, summer-vacation sojourn.

I couldn’t help but to think back to my elementary school days. It was then that a shopping center sprang up out of a former strawberry farm, bringing exciting things like a McDonald’s so close to our house. It wasn’t long before me and my three siblings were planning Saturday trips for pawing through the Salvation Army store or scoring a meal at the long-defunct–but tasty–Tippy’s Tacos.

All we needed was permission to go. Today, there are probably few parents who would let their four kids walk or ride their bikes to a place so full of strangers; a trip that would have them gone for several hours. We didn’t even have cell phones to keep track of us.

And yet, our parents let us go. During summer vacation, we could go all the time. I’ll never forget learning the lesson of thinking about your mode of transportation before making a purchase I picked up when I acquired a giant red plastic bat from the Salvation Army. It’s the kind that usually comes with a big plastic ball and is designed for 5-year-olds just learning how to swing. But at only 25 cents, how I could I pass it up? So I made the entire bike ride back home balancing the big red bat over my handlebars, glad that I hadn’t followed my instinct to buy two of them.

There was the time I went on my rollerblades, only to have a pretty awful spill in the gravel just in front of our neighborhood. Not even halfway to the shopping center, I decided to go ahead with the trip to McDonald’s. Fortunately they had a nice bathroom where I could examine my injuries and pick the gravel out of my arm before scarfing down a Big Mac.

On the last day of school in 6th grade, a group of my friends from the neighborhood thought it would be fun to go hang out at Chuck E. Cheese. That’s the day we learned they don’t let unaccompanied minors hang out at Chuck E. Cheese. A lame policy if you ask me.

My little brother, Pat, and his friend, also Pat, had their bikes stolen at the shopping center once. But out of hundreds of combined trips, that’s the only negative thing that ever happened.

You might think this is a different time, and in a way it is. I think we are more aware of what is around us, but that doesn’t mean those same potentially dangerous elements weren’t in our society 15 years ago. What is here is a level of caution that doesn’t let kids be more than 10 feet from their parents. While that may be “safer,” there are certain lessons you can learn and experiences you can only have when your dad says you and your brother can go to the shopping center.