There aren’t really too many photos this week.
I took the one above on Monday when I decided, meh, let’s go bowling. Yes, bowling, that sport some take way-too- seriously and others only play occasionally, kind of like miniature golf. (Did you know there is a professional miniature golf association? Well there is.)
I bowled in a league as a kid and was horrible at it; still am as an adult. I’ll embarrass you if we play a game together, bouncing the ball, pushing it straight down the gutter, and muttering obscenities to myself.
There are too many movable body parts for me to have any grace with it. My wrist twists. I misstep. I lose focus on where I am supposed to look down the lane. And I get no rush trying to improve. Perhaps that is why I minimize the sport (like so many others) and obsess on running. I can move my legs moderately fast and not fall. Yeah me.
And at least with running I can convince myself that I am average or okay or losing weight or improving cardio health.
But back to the bowling photo. Even though I suck at it I still find something occasionally cool and fun about bowling. It’s just kind of retro and for me harkens back to my childhood where my parents played in a league and I got my first kiss from a 13-year-old girl behind the Ms. Pac-Man arcade in the Super Bowl game room when I was about 11. (I am so tragically unhip none of my school buddies believed me. Matter-of-fact I think I gut punched in the gut when I kept swearing I did and a couple of my classmates called me a liar.)
Plus, there are the cool shirts and The Big Lebowski, a movie I promptly watched the next night and from which I quote from in the caption above. Every viewing of the Big Lebowski is a reminder of just how much I love the Coen Brothers and “duh” moment in just how smart the two are at imposing their taste and genius on hard-boiled/noir-esque films. If you haven’t seen the movie in a while you really should.