My last day senior year in H.S., someone rode a motorcyle thru the front door all the way thru school and right out the back door.
The teachers just laughed. Ahh, for the good old days when all the kids in the neighborhood knew and played with eachother and no one freaked out over a ornery kid. When yards were just huge playgrounds for baseball, statue, jump rope, war, Spud, Capture the Flag, plays, hopscotch, bikes, bike trails, forts, etc. etc. See how far we've come?
I went back to my old neighborhood a while ago and I could still see where home plate was in our front lawn. My kids couldn't, though.
The woods I grew up in, a massive stand of white pines, is gone now and is a fancy subdivision. I was showing my kids where the pond was, the old bridge (gone for legal reasons) and where I used to shoot. It's someones front yard now.
If I could get through the fences, I'm sure I could find remnants of the 3-story log cabins I used to build back there.
We didn't have playstation, we had wiffle ball bats. It's amazing how many things a wiffleball bat can be with a little imagination.