:: An awakening ::

Friday, August 27, 2004

I'm an overly-ambivalent person (but I don't have a strong opinion about that) so in general I find most pursuits if not enjoyable, neutral or only mildly distasteful. Sometimes this trait is mistaken as diplomatic or unassertive (once I was even charged with being "scheming"), which I suppose it can be, but that's a secondary and situational effect, not the driving cause.

But: this rule has exceptions and one of them is bowling. God I hate bowling.

I love bowling alleys. I love the lights, sounds, smells, those little claw machines in back, the old-school lights-lenses-and-mirrors score projectors and the new computerized ones. I can't imagine a better place to chow down on a cheeseburger and wash it down with some cold suds. I even like bowling shoes.

But I derive no pleasure whatsoever from the act of bowling. Quite the opposite: it's interminably boring to me.

I used to think I was a happy-go-lucky guy, and I couldn't reconcile the uneasy feeling that would stir inside when I acquiesced to go bowling. Only recently have I come to understand that I was forcing a generality into an absolute, a square peg into a round hole, or rather an adult male finger into the grip-slots of a 7lb ball meant for children. I've finally come out of the gutter, and it feels liberating.

[I was going to title this entry "I don't like getting pinned down so it's going to take balls to set the right frame of mind (hope I don't strike out and have to split, I'm on a roll)", but I thought I'd spare you.]

Posted by morland @ 06:54 PM

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