The Subtle Pleasures of Del Lanes

Some people like to dress like tranny hookers, get liquored up and go out to clubs. Others like to put on their Friday Finest and go listen to a little jazz at swanky bars. Me? I like to slither into a pair of skanky jeans, throw my hair into a ponytail (more so to keep my grease-riddled hands off than for looks) and go bowlin'. Yep, you heard me--BOWLIN'.

If you are skeptical, let me extol on the wonders of the sport. Here's a hint: not even a little of the appeal has to do with the fact that I am a skilled player. In fact, I fucking SUCK at bowling. 84 for a two-game best, anyone? It's more my love of the ambiance, the sheer non-prissiness of the game, and the fact that, as a true descendant of the Hebrew Peoples, I am seriously cheap.

I don't know about your town, but mine has a little thing we like to call "Dollar Game Nights." Now, this is tricky--it doesn't mean that you can party all night for a buck. Nope--I learned this the hard way. Only on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9-12, each game is a dollar. PER PERSON. (The pin jockey at the counter explained this to me at the end of the night, with a smug little piece of shit tucked under his mustache.) Factor in a dollar per pair of shoes,too, but who's counting, really? For my money, Two or three dollars doesn't get better than John Cougar Mellencamp on a pull-down projector screen, fat bald guys fist pumping, and the smell of nacho cheese mashed into carpeting. Make that $6 if you through a Coors Light into the mix.

After you get your snazzy shoes (which invariably fit like you're 4 years old and toddling around in Dad's work boots) you get to select a ball. Decisions, decisions: Hot pink swirled or midnight blue sparkles? Or how 'bout that one with just two finger holes that's labeled "Ron"?
No one ever said this was going to be Simple.

Once I select a ball, I hop on the lane and start playing--But not without scoping out my neighbors' skillz prior to making any moves. I glance over to the electronic scoreboard above lane 19 to check out the competition: "Tammi" and "J.R". Snickering, I sashay up to the lane and execute my first frame, resulting in a highly expert gutter ball. I frown and scurry back to my seat. Then, J.R. takes his turn next door. (He later explains that it's common lane courtesy to take your turn after the person next to you is finished, so no one is distracted. You sure do learn something every day!)
J.R. steps up to the lane in his Faded Glory jeans and white Marlboro t-shirt, licking his lips in concentration and smoothing his baseball cap. He pulls back his right arm, and in a fluid motion, pivots forward, releasing the ball down the lane and crossing his leg behind him. The ball flies straight down the polished runway, spinning into the pins and resulting in a "CRACK!" so rich and resonant that it could be a stock sound clip labeled; "bowling strike."
J.R. turns around, offers Tammi a modest grin, and takes a seat at the score table.

I sheepishly approach the ball return and bowl a frame that earns me one pin down for my efforts.
Meanwhile, Tommy is asking J.R. for bowling tips. "How do you get the ball to spin like that?" he asks in thinly masked awe. Seated in my nest of shame, I rock out to "The Boys are Back in Town" by Thin Lizzy in a pitifully controlled manner, bobbing my head and swaying a little bit. It's ridiculous. One really can't jam to 70's glam rock in any way other than reckless abandon.

To my left and right, guys like J.R. and Earl are racking up the points, each one doing the graceful bowling tango that results in a leg poised behind another after the ball is released. These guys are bowling 240, 285, and scowl at the lane when less than 10 pins fall. I have, thus far, bowled a 72. There's nothing like the sight of bowling league champions in the zone, excelling to eerily biographical "Blue Collar Man," by Styx. I am truly humbled.

Honestly, where else are you going to go on a Thursday that will allow you to stay out all night, drink some decent beers (they have Blue Moon!) hear some sweet tunes and enjoy yourself thoroughly for less than $10? Fucking Del Lanes, dude.

See you this Tuesday at 9.

No Conceivable Title

I was perusing recipes today at NPR.com and came across this random passage while reading about recipes using booze:

"Alcohol and water have an affinity for each other and form what's called an azeotropic mixture, which means the water is hesitant to let go of the alcohol, even though the alcohol wants to become steam."

I don't know why, but this struck me as strange. Alcohol dehydrates people. Water does the exact opposite. Why do opposites attract, and do they, really, in all cases? HEY! Is this really about chemistry, or is it about human relationships?! Hmmm...

Nevertheless, I think I will have to try out the Grilled Chicken Marinated in Tequila, as well as the Pork Medallions in Calvados and Apple Cream Sauce. I'll let you know how it goes when I do.

Famous Literary Drunks and Addicts..YESSSAH!

I know I've already touted the goodness of Life Magazine's photo archive site, but this is too good not to share:



A collection of "Famous Literary Drunks and Addicts." It just never ceases to amaze me that this venerable photography force consistently posts such a wide range of picture collections. You can find anything from very important historic shoots of events like world wars and presidential assassinations to pop culture stuff such as fashions from the 2010 Golden Globe Awards. I regularly indulge in all of these and more. If you haven't already signed up for the weekly email with featured selections, I implore you to do so!

P.S. You may want to click on the link at the top of the photo, because the captions are more than half the goodness. They tell you what each author was addicted to, maybe a fitting quote, and a little blurb about his/her life.

Skillz

I saw the movie Fish Tank last night, and it was pretty decent. I like British movies a lot, so perhaps I was a bit biased. However, I have to say that the main character's dance moves were pretty weak, and she was supposedly an aspiring hip hop dancer. This three year old kid's skillz and 'tude would put that chick to shame:

Three year-old Chinese hip-hop star | CNNGo.com


Check it out and see what I mean.

Oop! Apparently the Chinese are a little bit behind in kicking ass with the video-in-post technology, so you're going to have to take this third world link and cut and paste, old school style. Sowwy!


Probable post to follow: The Raw Beauty that is Del Lanes.

Meditations on Mass Media Consumption

I watched Amelie again tonight after discussing it with a respected consort this past week, which brought me to this conclusion:

I used to think that the relationships people built upon things such as books, movies and musical taste were very shallow. I thought that a shared affinity for media and cultural consumption-related items did not truly expose that which gave any real sign as to who a person was as an individual. I thought that it was impossible to honestly know--let alone to care about—someone on this narrow basis alone.
Now I feel, although one cannot entirely know someone solely by these preferences, it is a more valid way to begin to forge a bond with others than I originally gave it credit for.
Lying within our favorite books, the movies we watch time after time, songs that we can’t bear to take out of rotation; is proof that we feel profoundly. The love we have for these things is an emotionally conscious reaction to a depiction of existence seen through another human being (whomever created the movie, book, etc.)
Furthermore, in becoming aware that others feel moved by the same creations as us, we are sharing our humanity. A great film makes us cry because it reflects something that we have all felt. We are now seeing it with new eyes (those of the director and writers) but we still experience it with the same heart. In the same vein, a certain passage from our favorite author sticks with us as a guiding light, because it helps us find refuge from, or make sense out of, the confusion of living.
We identify that these artistic works (no matter how trivial or silly some of them may seem) can reach anyone, because they all spring from finding meaning in being human. The human experience (in many a shape-shifting form) is, extraordinarily, shared by every single one of us, and is therefore always worth bonding over.

This May be the Best Thing I've Ever Seen in My Life

I could write a long-winded post about the fat lady who sat next to me on the bus to New York, but I think I'll save that for a later date.

I find "Old Greg" is a more pressing priority at the moment.



If you stop watching this halfway through because you have the attention span of a toddler with Down Syndrome, I seriously suggest you give yourself a lobotomy. I think the last couple of minutes may be the best part of the whole video. Pour yourself a heaping mug of Baileys, get comfy and ENJOY!

Sunday at the Gym

I am at the treadmill on the gym
And to my right there
Is a middle-aged man juggling
Four red balls. He is in a tee shirt, shorts and sneakers
I wonder if he considers this
Exercise or maybe he decided
The gym's a place to exercise his mind as well as body.
They say that crossword puzzles keep your mind
Fit and I can see how
Juggling would help with hand-eye coordination.

On the TV is a bowling tournament.
A man who looks like he’s destined to win throws his ball down
The polished lane effortlessly, with a glove on the hand that throws.
He bowls a strike, turns around, pounding the air with his fist, and takes a seat
in front of a chubby blonde who was probably once considered
Good looking by champion bowlers.
The man who’s destined to win is wearing Terminator-style sunglasses
He never removes, and a small, but healthy mustache (conceit
Curls up at the sides) when his name is spoken his satisfaction
Does not fade for a long time.

I am now on a machine that foils flabby stomachs and there is
An ancient lady rowing in front of me. She is only about as high as
Carnival signs that say, “Must be this tall to ride.”
Her hair is white as winter frost that snakes across windy roads at night.
She wears a sweatband around her head and a very large tee shirt
That accentuates her smallness. The ancient lady does five movements
With the machine and moves on. She does not wipe off the seat.
At some spots she sits down, only to back get up and walk away.
I note that most senior citizens love coming to the gym to socialize.
It is where they go after seven o’clock breakfast at McDonald’s.

Avatar

Alright, guys, I'm sorry to take a bit of a departure from the usually humorous tone of this blog, but there's some stuff I really have to say, here. I will try to put some comic relief in every so often in case you feel your eyes might bleed from reading such a long-winded rant.

So, Tommy and I went to see Avatar last night, after hearing much hype about it. Some people I respect said that they really liked it (namely my grandparents, some aunts, and a couple of friends) so I figured it had to be at least OK. Definitely worth going to, since we had a free movie pass.

The theater was packed, just about to capacity. And we didn't even get into the 3-D IMAX showing. Those were all sold out. We just saw the plain ol' regular movie.

The first half of the film I really liked, except for the cheesy one-liners coming from all of the military guys (including and especially the main character.) Dumb ass phrases like, "Git 'r' Done!" said without any hint of humor or irony by all of the military "bad guys." I was disappointed at the outset by how one dimensional the military guys were. They seemed to have no problem going to this planet and just destroying it, which seems ridiculous to me. I think that quality "bad guys" have to be multidimensional, or hell--at least original--in order to be believable. It's kind of insulting that the U.S. military faction had to be depicted as so stereotypically cold-hearted and unintelligent. Frankly, if I was in the military myself, I'd be kind of offended at the portrayal of how their missions are conducted.

The second half of the movie particularly infuriated me. It's definitely possible I could be taking it too much to heart, but did anyone else notice a shit-ton of 9/11, Iraqi/Muslim, "tree-hugging" Democrats/"slash and burn war hawk" Republican references? I feel that the narrative got intensely political at the end, and I don't know if it's because politics are so deeply embedded in our national consciousness, or because the media is trying to propagandize through feature films now. The images and dialogue that alluded to these things were rampant.
Just as a quick recap; the bombing and burning of "Home Tree" could definitely parallel 9/11 and the falling of the Twin Towers. I didn't even notice this until Tommy pointed out how similar the (now archetypal)images seemed with the wounded Navi People walking among falling ash and burning debris. Also, there was a mention by one of the main characters of "fighting terror with terror," which seemed as if someone poured an obvious cup of bullshit buzzwords into the script. Oh, and did anyone notice how the Navi all fall before the ancestral tree and start singing and kind of, well...praying? I don't know, it looked a lot like devout Muslims praying to Mecca to me.

At face value I can see why people thought Avatar was a cool movie. I also really enjoyed the scenery and graphics, I thought the tribal customs were neat, and the idea of transferring one's nervous system/brain responses into a different body is awesome! But I just can't escape how it makes me feel when I notice totally unnecessary, biased "real life" parallels spun to make some sort of a simplified point to get people pumped up. I feel like this movie had an agenda that wasn't primarily to entertain and wow us, which is typical, and makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Either way, I would love it if you guys would go see this movie and report back about how you felt, even if you totally disagree with me. I want to see the film in a different way if possible, so let me know your thoughts.