Back when I was a new teenage driver, one of the things I and my buddies did as we cruised around the area when gas was 19.9 cents per gallon, was to drive up what was then known as the "highway of death" due to all the many accidents and the truck traffic that traversed north and south before the N.J. Turnpike was built. They were such simple pleasures: We would let those 18 wheelers pass us and as they did we would blink our headlights telling him it was OK for him to go back into the right lane ahead of us. He in turn would return the courtesy with a blink of his tail lights as he changed lanes and slipped in front of us. We often rode Route 25 (today's U.S. Route 130, occasionally stopping at Bordentown's Hamburger Haven, a trip to Millside Farms for a banana boat, or sampling one of Howard Johnson's 28 flavors. Ahh, memories are indeed made of this!