What could be more patriotic than a little bowling on Independence Day?
Grandpa Neal would be proud. It turns out that Russell is really starting to enjoy bowling with his friends up in the Motor City, so when he came for a visit this weekend he wanted to roll a few frames with Kish and me. Yesterday afternoon we went down South High Street to Wayne Webb’s Columbus Bowl. It was largely deserted, but we had fun and there was red, white, and blue to be found in the riotous colors that were everywhere we looked. It was a useful reminder that you never want to have your home decorated by the same person who also has devised the color scheme at a bowling alley.
It was the first time I’ve been bowling in a year and a half, and in my first game I had my worst game in decades — a 104. I’m happy to report, though, that I righted the ship and followed it up with a 155 and then a snappy 209.
Don’t get me wrong — I love bowling. I’ve bowled for as long as I can remember, starting when UJ and I, as kids, bowled with Grandma and Grandpa Neal. I like bowling alleys and bowlers, too.
Still, there was something vaguely disturbing about this bit of bowling alley wall art found in the locker area at Wayne Webb’s Columbus Bowl. It’s not exactly calculated to dispel the common myths about kegling and encourage occasional bowlers to become regulars.
The firm Carmen Salvino bowling tournament was tonight, at Wayne Webb’s Columbus Bowl Lanes on South High Street. Our team may not have been the finest bowlers, but we definitely sported the most headband accessories and displayed the most compelling hard-ass look.
Oh, and the Buckeyes won their first NCAA Tournament game, too.