Since I make my living attempting to make my words paint a picture—or at least a good doodle—I don’t usually subscribe to the hooey about a picture being worth a thousand words.
Not everybody feels this way, of course. Napoleon said, “A good sketch is better than a long speech.” And, truth be told, I find myself sometimes agreeing with Napoleon, even though I do think it depends largely on who is doing the sketch and on who is speaking. For example, I have no idea whether Martin Luther King Jr. could draw. But, still, I imagine that a sketched version of “I Have a Dream” delivered to the crowd in Washington via overhead projector would have been something of a train wreck. You see my point.
On the other hand, this photo of me, above, actually illustrates Napoleon’s philosophy nicely. I could give you the background here: Setting the stage by telling you that I’m in Santa Barbara, California, at an alley called Zodos, competing in a company tournament with 30 or so of my coworkers.
I could describe the slickness of the lanes, and the tiny fear I had in my gut each time I went up to roll the ball down the lane that I would slip on the wax and land hard on my tailbone—as hard as my throws landed on the lane itself. I could explain that this was my first time with the big balls—since I’m a New England girl, I’m used to little balls. (I’m talking about bowling, people, bowling!) I could tell you that no one wanted me on their team.
And I could also tell you that, if you are looking for some durable hardwood flooring, ask the folks at your local bowling alley what kind of wood they use on the lanes. Because every single one of my throws landed like an H bomb on a New Mexico test site, and you’d expect a pretty big crater and perhaps a mushroom cloud from the rubble. But not once did the flooring crack or give way, which I thought was pretty impressive.
Anyway, I could tell you all that… or I could just let the photo speak for itself. If it could, it might say something like, “Holy shit! What is she doing? Is she having a seizure? Is she releasing a homing pigeon? This is bowling, lady, not slow-pitch softball! Geez, she really wasn’t kidding about that bit about being stunningly unathletic, more Eeyore than Seabiscuit. She really deserves to be the one standing on the sidelines, last-picked for the team. She really should be afraid of the ball—any ball—because I’m pretty sure that the lane management are terrified of it, at this point.”
Of course, that’s less than a hundred words, let alone a thousand. But still.
Photo credit: Sharon Edwards
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Ah, Ann, your bowling looks better than mine. You don’t want to know. . . .
When we lived in a “gentrified” neighborhood on Pittsburgh’s North Side, one of our friends refinished floors for a living — bowling alley floors. Let me tell you, the old wood floors in his 4-story brownstone outshone every other floor in the neighborhood! It was just a little bit eerie.
Thanks for the laugh. You write a treat, as my grandmother would have said.
Cass (off to the vet now with Connie and Dion!)
Ah, Ann, your bowling looks better than mine. You don’t want to know. . . .
When we lived in a “gentrified” neighborhood on Pittsburgh’s North Side, one of our friends refinished floors for a living — bowling alley floors. Let me tell you, the old wood floors in his 4-story brownstone outshone every other floor in the neighborhood! It was just a little bit eerie.
Thanks for the laugh. You write a treat, as my grandmother would have said.
Cass (off to the vet now with Connie and Dion!)
Ann, I would pick you for my team!
You’ve got quite an arm…for pitching! 
Seriously though the best part of bowling is the laughter and company and in your defense the ball did at least stay in your lane.
Ann, I would pick you for my team!
You’ve got quite an arm…for pitching! 
Seriously though the best part of bowling is the laughter and company and in your defense the ball did at least stay in your lane.
So funny – I think I look like that when I bowl on our Wii in the living room although I am more of a lunger than a spinner. Nice that you were my neck of the woods – I live in Santa Barbara and was just at Zodo’s two weeks ago for a six year old girl’s birthday party. That was so fun to watch-some impressive bowling positions too!
So funny – I think I look like that when I bowl on our Wii in the living room although I am more of a lunger than a spinner. Nice that you were my neck of the woods – I live in Santa Barbara and was just at Zodo’s two weeks ago for a six year old girl’s birthday party. That was so fun to watch-some impressive bowling positions too!
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Too funny, I love the picture. You know its like a double edged sword, having no captions can open your minds to boundless limits of your imagination while on the other hand having a caption opens more doorways too, both are good
Too funny, I love the picture. You know its like a double edged sword, having no captions can open your minds to boundless limits of your imagination while on the other hand having a caption opens more doorways too, both are good
Poetry in motion. You are fabulous!
Poetry in motion. You are fabulous!
Imagine the menace this individual would represent at Duckpin. The thing would go like ninety-plus miles an hour and be like a hardball in a professional pitcher’s hands.
Balls are hardier in New England and last longer, even if they be smaller.
Imagine the menace this individual would represent at Duckpin. The thing would go like ninety-plus miles an hour and be like a hardball in a professional pitcher’s hands.
Balls are hardier in New England and last longer, even if they be smaller.
That’s hilarious (about “balls”)! Johnny Carson once had a guest who said she didn’t play tennis because she didn’t like balls hitting her face–and Carson replied, “I believe that’s called testiphobia!” There was also a film, “Flashpoint” (1984), in which a woman sarcastically asks two law-enforcement officers’ if they’re going to the policeman’s ball. One of them replies, “We’re Border Patrol, ma’am, we don’t have balls!”
And these days alot of women talk about other women “not having the balls” to do something or other! That’s even more nonsensical than the idea of women “fucking” men!
That’s hilarious (about “balls”)! Johnny Carson once had a guest who said she didn’t play tennis because she didn’t like balls hitting her face–and Carson replied, “I believe that’s called testiphobia!” There was also a film, “Flashpoint” (1984), in which a woman sarcastically asks two law-enforcement officers’ if they’re going to the policeman’s ball. One of them replies, “We’re Border Patrol, ma’am, we don’t have balls!”
And these days alot of women talk about other women “not having the balls” to do something or other! That’s even more nonsensical than the idea of women “fucking” men!
Ann, I thought of you this week, when I was bowling with new co-workers, a night after work. My first or second throw, the ball seemingly flew out of my hand and jumped over into someone else's lane. I cost the surprised guy in the other lane his turn, because it counted as his third ball, and it went straight into the gutter. If anything, my bowling only deteriorated, after that. My great comfort was thinking of this story, and the very good company I am keeping here. But seriously, what is about writers and “being stunningly unathletic…”? and that weird “on the outside looking in” feeling, that accompanies times like this…
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