The sun is hot, they’re thirsty; so they sip peach tea and gulp down life. Skateboards roll across the beat up old ramp with its chipped paint and fond memories. As the sun beats down, shirts come off. Achievement is measured in laughs and satisfaction; pushing themselves to be better, stronger, bursting with life. The fresh air is nitro fuel to these wild eyed youth; they thrive upon it, filling the empty tank of everyday life. These boys are alive, more so than they ever will be again, and they savor it. But try as they may, the flavor fades, leaving only the bitter taste of age and responsibility. They never forget those days, they are tortured by the memory; businessmen incarcerated in anonymity and complacency, watching happiness through the bars of their jail cell.