In the mid-60s, I would join my father when he flew to podunk airfields  for the Civil Air Patrol. While he was doing his duties, I'd get a Dr. Pepper or Orange Nehi and BBQ Fritos (if they had them) from the vending machines. I'd check out all of the airplanes and hangers, catch grasshoppers, watch birds and butterflies, find "treasures" laying about... Be a kid. Flying was the fun part. I would check our course on the charts and look for landmarks, note the controlled airspace when Dad checked in via radio (everybody in the Southeast knew zero-three-POP), and loved it when he let me take the controls, especially if he let me change course.