Bowling Anyone?

Not me.

I get an e-mail today from one of the crew - "hey, my wife told me you (and your wife) aren't bowling on Saturday (PTO outing)".

Let me clarify. I don't bowl. Anytime. Ever.

Maybe it's because the patron saint of bowling looks like a televangelist. Could be I'm a little skeeved out about the bad Eddie Van Halen style shoes, or the fact that most bowlers look like they would benefit from a salad. Could be the whole league thing - the terrible shirts, untucked; the arm guards, worn by all, and looking like a bit of falconry is underway; the way people polish and shine their balls. YIKES.

Now I have no doubt that long-lasting kinship has evolved over a game or two. And that the incredibly sedentary get some exercise at the local alley. But I'll bet the no smoking rule has chapped the a** of many a striker, who wants to puff away, drink a couple of longnecks and high-five his teammates on that tough 7-10 split or 3-8 pickup.

Count me out chubby.