As a kid, one of my favorite movies was Disney's Treasure Island, by Robert Luis Stevenson. I love stories of adventure where worlds of possibility are opened to a young hopeful kid with heaps of courage and not enough good sense. In the book and movie, a young Jim Hawkins sets sail to a mysterious island, fends off a pirate mutiny, meets up with marooned sea fairer, and discovers a hoard of gold. I recall watching Steven Spielberg's, The Goonies, in which an unlikely group of friends stumbles upon a treasure map in the attack of their ramshackle old house. Or the children's book by Tom Townsend Where the Pirates Are, in which a derelict ship washes up off the coast of Galveston Texas, which leads two friends off on an adventure that has them facing off with pirates. In my youth, this type of story seemed entirely possible to me. One of the truly sad events in everyone's life is the day they come to terms with the fact that adventure is the stuff of books and movies.