Mr. T's
Image from la.eater.com |
Can’t they yuppie up
some discretion? Where am I supposed to go
now when I want to be depressed or
Charles Bukowski; Image from salon.com |
My
first time in the place was during the 1950s when I went there with my dad to
bowl. Fifty years later
I went again
with my son Michael and was
glad to see they had gotten rid of the bowling
and
rededicated the place to proper alcohol and
substance abuse.
Mr. T's interior; Image from justared.com |
Following
Michael into the place my first thought was that they weren’t open. It took twenty minutes for my eyes to adjust
to the darkness even though it was after midnight. When I finally could see, I thought we were
in somebody’s garage. We found something
to sit on and eventually somebody asked what we wanted. I said, “I want a beer, a shower, and then I
want to leave.”
If
it is important to have another place to bowl (which I find highly unlikely),
at least they didn’t do it up in bright plastic and twirling laser beams. Bowling has tanked so badly they now resort
to disco lighting, much like churches now resort to guitars and
tambourines. Any entrepreneur
whose
place of business is referred to as
an “alley” must realize they’re in for an
uphill
struggle.
Charles Laughton; image from artfuse.org |
When
I was a kid bowling alleys were all pretty creepy including the people who
worked as pinsetters and looked like Charles Laughton in the 1939 release of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The first time I saw an upscale bowling alley
was on a double date in San Diego
many years ago. It was a huge layout
with sixty lanes; thirty facing north and thirty facing south. There was a median between the two sets of
lanes where you rented shoes and picked out a ball.
The
four of us took our shoes and balls and sat down at a lane in the center of the
North facing set of lanes. To our immediate left was a bowler who had arrived at
about the same time. He had brought with
him a collection of balls, shoes, gloves and towels and looked as though he was
really into it. It was probably a bowling
league night as the place was packed with groups of people on almost every lane.
I
had gone bowling with my date once before.
She was very athletic and although she had only bowled a few times she
was a natural. There weren’t a lot of
balls to choose from in the racks but she took
one that although not quite right for her, she was going to give a
practice toss to see if she could use it.
She picked up the ball and walked to her starting place at the head of
the lane. She stood in place preparing her
approach when the lights in the building were suddenly lowered halfway.
Everyone
on every lane came to a stop and then a voice came over the public address
system, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome to Grossmont Lanes and excuse the interruption. We would like to call your attention to lane
seventeen where Tom Rolfing will be practicing tonight. Tom is a long-time competitor on the Professional
Bowling Association Tour and was recently inducted into the Professional
Bowler’s Hall of Fame.”
We
were on lane sixteen. Tom was the guy
next to us who showed up with all the paraphernalia. During the public address announcement he got
up out of his seat, selected a ball and walked up to take his starting position
eight feet to the left of my date. They
stood out for all to see as everyone in the place turned to catch a glimpse of
the nationally recognized professional bowler.
Added to this were the lights above lane seventeen which had been turned
up full blast to spotlight the pro.
My
date took no notice. She was an athlete
both in physical skills and mental concentration. She was ready to knock down some pins and from
looking at her it was clear that she was completely oblivious to what was going
on around her. While some two hundred
people waited to see Tom throw his ball, my date went first.
She
started her approach with a fluid burst of three quick steps while raising the
ball up high on her backswing, swept her arm down and forward just as her last
step ended at the foul line. What had not
been quite right about the ball for her was the size of the holes – they were a
little tight. My date’s body flew
forward with arm and ball extended, eventually coming to a stop fifteen feet
down the lane. It was a perfectly
graceful headfirst slide that would be hard to match by anyone.
The
crowd exploded like a thunder clap. Tom the
pro, stood in place for a second then dropped his head, tucked his ball under
one arm and returned to his seat. My
date remained face down on the lane in a prone position with one arm extended
and ball attached, shaking with giggles.
This is when any sensitive, conscientious person would have raced out to
her side to help. Even better would have
been to perform a running headfirst slide down the adjacent lane to direct
attention away from her and possibly encourage dozens of other bowlers to
perform headfirst slides of their own.
Unfortunately
I never made it out of the area where we were seated because I was virtually
paralyzed with laughter. Something for
which (1) my wife has never forgiven me; and (2), will bury me deep in shit if
she ever finds out I posted this.