Bowling is a recurrent theme in my life. I attended a season end U-16 Soccer team event at the immortal West Seattle Lanes. I do not bowl, it is merely the temple of all things American. I watch. My son bowled and junior son sat next to me (with his true parent, Nintendo) while I polished off several beers. It was one of those moments that will be lost to time, a meaningless event that will slip away with the next tide. There I was, in leather jacket and Montana hunting cap (issued to the Montana Trustee Penitentiary Honor Farms in Deer Lodge) I am sure I looked sort of like a anachronism; a bit player sent from the wrong studio casting call. I watched my handsome teenaged son bowl with out conviction. He has been wrestling with his responsibility to achieve good grades and a lack of social opportunity lately . It was like watching Morissey bowl with the cast of "Freaks and Geeks." His coach retired and we went home.
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