Bowling
Saturday night in Indianola, with the prospect of a
full day off on Sunday, inspired thoughts of how to spend a fun evening
together... After much hand-wringing, a plan was hatched to go
bowling.
Saturday night in Indianola, with the prospect of a
full day off on Sunday, inspired thoughts of how to spend a fun evening
together. I secretly long for the inevitable day when the eight of us mutually
agree that "free time" actually means time away from each other. In the
meantime, I'm happy to go with the flow, lest I be seen as antisocial (at best)
or misanthropic (at worst). As much as I like everybody here, I see no reason to
go out of my way to spend every possible moment with them. When we start
traveling next week, the element of choice will be eliminated, and we'll be with
each other all the time.
All of which
brings us back to Saturday night in Indianola. After much hand-wringing, a plan
was hatched to go bowling. The only problem was that Indianola doesn't have a
bowling alley. This, of course, seemed strange, since I figured that a bowling
alley would be perhaps the one de rigeur diversion (besides the chuch community
center) that any mid-American town should have. I had a hard time believing that
Indianola could have a weekly bingo game, yet lack a bowling
alley.
After a little research by the
others, I wasn't suprised to learn that the closest alley with free bowling
("free" meaning free to non-league players) at this time of year was in West Des
Moines, which is a good 35 minutes away from us. Keep in mind that, unlike in
New York, where "35 minutes" might mean two subway transfers and a trip across
town, "35 minutes" where I am simply means "35 miles." It's a far trip for your
car, and arguably a farther trip for your mind. Home to the area's two nice
malls, West Des Moines has quickly become synonymous with any form of recreation
for us beyond admiring the selection of firearms at the local
Wal-Mart.
The bowling alley itself was
just like any other bowling alley in any other town in any other state in
America. The carpet cried out to be cleaned and the ashtrays begged to be
emptied (people can still smoke in public places here, which is a subject for
another day), but the 40 wooden lanes glistened and shimmered while the
thunderous claps of pins crashing to the floor filled the air.
At some point during our two games, I
looked around and realized that we really could have been anywhere. I could have
been at the Northampton Bowl in 1995 with my college friends or at the bowling
alley on Grace St. in Wrigleyville in 1999 with my colleagues from the Cubs. The
zip code and the year make no difference. The rules and physics of the game are
the same, and I am still the terrible bowler that I have always been. Mired in
the middle of Iowa, which in many ways is a world away from any place I've
lived, I found an unlikely feeling of familiarity in the stale air and cheap
beer of a bowling alley. In the end, traveling 35 miles seemed to be a small
price to pay for a little fun with others and a little
escape.
For those who are curious, my
scores were 86 in the first game and 90 in the second game. Any tips would be
greatly appreciated, because I have a feeling that there will be more bowling at
some point in the weeks to come. I would really like to break 100 next
time.
Posted: Sun - January 23, 2005 at 04:44 PM