Memory Lanes

Yesterday I took a break from my continued attempts to master all forty-two songs on the easy level of "Guitar Hero". I went with my son down to the lanes in Alameda to bowl a few frames. It was his idea, starting primarily as an alternative to video games, with the not-so-hidden agenda of running into the half-dozen arcade machines that line the back wall of the AMF Fun Center. What could possibly be more fun than bowling?
I have a permanent visceral memory of Timothy Hutton describing his fondness for the sport to his date, Elizabeth McGovern, in "Ordinary People":
"Can you break the ball?'' she asks.
"You can't break the ball; you can't break the floor; you can't break anything in a bowling alley,'' he says. "And that's what I like about bowling alleys."
After a slight pause, he adds: "You can't even break the record."
I felt this all over again as I watched my son work on the mechanics of his game. He wanted to roll just like his dad, but after a number of false starts, he returned to his kindergarten form of heaving the ball with both hands between his legs. It was this technique that brought him his first strike, so I stayed far away from giving him any additional coaching.
I kept thinking about the unbreakable aspect of the game as I hurled my own ball down the lane. I thought about my own youthful experiences, going down to the bowling alley with my Aunt Peggy, who bowled in a league. She was a supermarket checkout girl. It made sense for her to bowl in a league. I don't know if she was any good, but I do remember getting my shot, along with my older brother. It was a time before the kid-friendly bumpers that have saved so much frustration for my son's potential gutter balls. I remember the rental shoes and the shine on the floor. I remember the bright lights on the lanes, and the dim recesses behind, where the scores could be projected on league night.
By the time my son and I had finished our game, we had each managed a strike, and I had stayed mostly free of the rails. I was grateful for the automatic scoring, since I inevitably forget the extra ball in the last frame. I was grateful for the chance to stay just ahead of my son's burgeoning talents in friendly competition. When we were done, I thought about buying another game, but they were already preparing for the evening. It was league night, and they were busily waxing all the lanes in preparation. We sat at a table across from the snack bar and watched the real bowlers roll in with their bags on rollers, and I wished that my Aunt Peggy had been able to afford that mild luxury for lugging her ball to and from the alley. We drove a few virtual laps on the "Fast and the Furious" driving games just to be sure we didn't leave any fun behind, and then we walked out into the cool evening.
Maybe today we'll do some bowling on the Wii.