It’s an emotional experience, visiting college campuses with your high school senior son. There’s so much to consider. You need to weigh the neighborliness of a small campus against the opportunities of a huge university; try to figure out which courses of study might take you where you really want to go; and get an idea of what life would be like outside class and on weekends.

But now it’s settled.

My wife and I definitely want to quit working, abandon our family and go back to college. Anywhere.

The kid? Oh, he still has a lot to figure out. But we two, we’ve had more than enough of the real world, and we are ready to have a lot better time the second time through higher education.

To us, a 21st-century campus feels like a dream world. When you venture out of your residence – which is equipped with every kind of entertainment source invented as of yesterday — you walk a couple of minutes and bump into an elaborate dining facility, stuffed with an array of choices. You can select pizza or Chinese food or sub sandwiches or a Mexican meal or, hey, here’s an idea: some of everything. Back in the old days at Iowa State University, as I recall, your choices in the Friley Hall cafeteria were take it or leave it.

And I’m sure I would do a better job of staying in shape with the recreation palaces that have sprung up everywhere. We went to the University of Northern Iowa the other day, and the student rec building not only has a terrific array of exercise machines and a fantastic climbing wall, but it also has a water slide. A water slide.

What is this, the last stopping point before your career or a place to warm up for your next vacation?

Walk around a university, peek in the buildings and you find a fantasy being played out. To live in a place where one building is alive with rehearsing musicians, the next with racquetball players, the next with a visiting speaker from the top levels of success – well, when I think of the hours wasted watching “Star Trek” reruns in the dorm, it’s painful.

Then, of course, there’s the educational stuff. But you know, even the classes seem more intriguing than before. This might be unrealistic thinking; instructors report that adult students can be more serious and industrious than those of traditional college age, but we all know that learning takes more effort as you move along.

As long as this is a fantasy, though, it’s safe to say that we would be taking the classes we always wanted to try instead of the ones some adviser steered us into. Advice? Hey, we’ve made our own living for a long time. We don’t need no stinking advice.

So I guess what my wife and I really want to do is live on campus that’s magically free of jerks and misfits, learn about fascinating subjects while avoiding classes that don’t interest us and spend a large proportion of our time enjoying life.

Anything wrong with that?