Got along to the Northcote Bowlarama. I haven’t been bowling since year 8 and it showed. Didn’t get above 88. It was fun but a bit more expensive than I remember. Put it this way, you’re not gonna bump into too many homeless people on the lanes. That probably sounds negative, I had a good time but it was kind of like sitting at a bus station between turns.
I keep doing all these things: chopping trees down, hoeing, dancing, cycling, and now bowling but they never use the same muscles — the consequence being that I always end up sore somewhere, like in the old right wrist and hand now … which is kind of surprising considering how much
wanking typewriting I do with it.
In some small way, everyone has some minor activity where they’re able to bend the universe to suit them, which stands out amongst the rest of this soul-crushing existence. There’s no guarantee that this activity will be useful, although ‘useful’ is subjective.
Some people can do crosswords, shoplift, have perfect pitch, can find your keys for you, get their legs behind their neck, can remember how to make a coffee for every person they meet, never lose their footing in the snow, don’t ever get barked at by dogs — and so on.
Jimbo is a brilliant parker. Wherever he drives with the intention of stopping, a parking spot spontaneously opens up right there in front of him and he just whacks it in there carefree as flicking a booger. I could say it’s phenomenal, but I’ve been observing it too long for that.