My best summer vacation was with my grandfather in the deep South when I was 12. We spent the months working on the huge farm, eating watermelon from the patch and shooting cans down in the Gulley.

One time my cousin decided to ride a bull and his brother hit its rump with a switch. We chased that bull across a bean field with my cousin on his back. The bull headed for the pond, bucked and turned. My cousin was pitched about 15 feet into that pond with plenty of hang time.