So last Saturday I went glow-bowling. Kerry and I went to Academy Uptown Lanes to help celebrate buddy Christian's 30th birthday (30 must be the new black or something; everybody's wearing it). What astounds me upon entering this place is that we look to be the oldest people in the building. And it got me to thinking, when did bowling become such a thing-to-do for the young and hip? Who was that brave, youthful soul was who first strutted (strat?) into a dank, fat, old smoky bowling alley and decided that this would be the new cool? And why are three strikes in a row called a 'turkey'?
I'm not beaking here. I love the bowling. Five-pin is the sport of Canadian kings. Ten-pin is quite fine in its own right – what with its heftier balls and louder crashes – but for the weaker-limbed like myself, few activities allow the release of aggression like hurling a grapefruit-sized orb at five unsuspecting pins – and looking fine while doing it. To wit, check out our prerequisite cool bowling togs (above): Kerry in her Paul Frank Elvis-themed shirt from the shops at Graceland, and me, sporting my retro Quebec Nordiques tee purchased in La Belle Province last May by Kerry.
I'm looking down at the shirt I'm wearing now (black "Trogdor the Burninator" tee from the Homestar Runner collection), and I realize that Kerry has bought me just about every cool shirt I own. My Nordiques shirt. Trogdor shirt. Homestar Runner duck shirt. Tintin shirt. Fat Albert shirt. My Woody's Retro Lounge bowling shirt (I brought it to the lanes, it just didn’t make it into the photo). And for that, I'm grateful.
Side note: It's St. Patrick’s Day and – Irish as I am – I came to work thinking it was the 16th – and I'm not wearing any green! Bonehead move, right? But I'm a quick thinker, and faster than you can say feckin' eejit, I come up with this snappy number (right). Take one green Nerf™ football and some masking tape, et voila! A nice and passable St. Paddy's lookit-me-I'm-Irish armband. And it actually stayed attached until about 2:00 when all traces of office St. Patrick's Day spirit were pretty much dead anyway.