Need To Get Back To ACK

As I rolled to a stop at a red light the other day, I heard a *beep* coming from the car next to me. I looked to my right and the male driver made the manual roll-down-your-window motion...which I instantly recognized because I grew up in the '80s. I did so, assuming they needed directions. What came next caught me a bit off guard.
The couple did not ask me where the closest Dunkin' Donuts was located...or how to get onto 95 South. They asked me what the bumper sticker on my back bumper meant.
"Excuse me. What does A-C-K stand for?"
With a surprised look on my face, I'm sure, I explained that it was the airport code for Nantucket. Their response made me smile as I pulled away and drove home.
"Ooohhhh...okay. I knew you wouldn't have a bumper sticker that was just for that weird sound - AAACCCKKK...AAACCCKKK!"
I smiled as I rolled up my window, and, once the light returned to green, I pulled away and drove home smiling the whole way.
The random Route 2 interaction got me thinking about Nantucket. For me, it's always provided a much needed change in pace. Although it's not far from Boston, Providence or New York City, once I step onto that ferry down the Cape, my mood completely changes. I'm officially on vacation and once I step off the boat onto the island, life is just...sweeter.
The "downtown" area is chock full of cobblestone streets, quaint shops, bicycles with baskets and bells, seafood restaurants and bars, and seer sucker, Nantucket reds and boat shoes. It's everything I thought it would be.
Thank you, couple from Connecticut with the kayak on top of your car, for reminding me of great memories with friends and with paperback books, the pain of awkward burn lines, the smell of the salty air, and the feel of sand between my toes and the gentle evening breeze after a magical day on the island.