It was important recently to show a couple of teenagers a thing or two about bowling. At least that was my shtick as the three of us got a birthday celebration underway. The atmosphere was fun even though each of us saw the gutter six times during our initial three frames! Over the full three games, I think I bowled my age once, a tad over once, and half my age another time. If I could have changed the score card to a golf one, I would have been in business. Of course that would be problematic no matter what but, in any case, only the kids knew how to work the electronic device so I was stuck with recording bad bowling while having great fun.
I’d been babying my back the week before but it was better and anyway it was a grand’s birthday so all back bets were off. I thought I’d found a pretty light ball although my bones soon began to question that assertion. But the reward was greater than the risk so the rolls continued. Besides, something else was beginning to bubble up each time I twisted my toe against the little round marker in the lane in order to get set. There was a sudden memory of that foot, 40 years ago, doing the same thing, when Charles and I bowled in a league with other young marrieds. After a few frames, I couldn’t help but grin as I faced the pins and the bowling lane transformed into a memory one. I loved that bowling birthday gig with two of my favorite teenagers. I’m grateful that my 66 year old bones still allowed me to do that. And I appreciate a memory that transformed bowling my age into a perfect game.