Bowling – Old Wolves and Young Foxes … took my son Kevin bowling today.
Had been wanting to bowl for several days.
My youngest son Kevin and I have occasionally been going to the Dale City AMF lanes, a wonderful family place to hang out for all ages.
My first game today was outstanding … then I had a DNA rejuvenation beverage and my score went down in subsequent games … even though my spirits were right where they should be … was feeling happy, happy, happy.
Our last game finishing with the fox outsmarting and outscoring the old wolf.
Am trying out all of the season pumpkin beers. This week am trying ‘Boxcar Pumpkin Stout‘ from Starr Hill Breweries from Charlottesville, Virginia.
The pumpkin flavor is very much there, but on the back of the tongue. The stout is very much there with the wonderful roasted flavor on the tip of my tongue.
I adore stouts. Am not sure that this mix was meant to be. But since these bottles of cold flavor are paid for then I intend to continue seeing if the flavors eventually merge. Hopefully they do by the third bottle. Am not a four bottle person … anymore.
Patsy Cline lived in our house for many years … mostly at night.
My mom had a bit of a hard life. My dad was … not the best dad … and for some years he had trouble finding his way home.
My dad would go out for a haircut and sometimes come home three days later. While waiting, my mom would sit in the front room with a pack of cigarettes and a few beers. The lights would be out. The only light would be from the tip of her cigarette. Always and always there would be music playing ever so gently — and it would be either Patsy Cline or Jim Reeves.
My mom was always my hero. She put family before all else. She often went without to make sure that we had whatever we needed. … She taught me how to shoot, to drive a car and that Old Milwaukee beer is not as bad as its cheap price. She taught me that people that live on the other side of the tracks could be me one day, and that different people are just people … just like me … only different.
Reminds me of a time in San Antonio, Texas. I went into this restaurant and right by the bathroom was the meanest, ugliest, most tattooed person I’ve ever seen. I thought that he was waiting for the wrong person to go in and then he would make a cash withdrawal.
I really had to pee but did not want to be his ATM.
After about 10 minutes, and him looking angrier by the moment, the door to the ladies room opened and out ran this 9 or 10 year old girl dressed like a little princess. “Daddy, daddy, I’m done. Sorry it took so long”, she said.
Biker Dad smiled from ear to ear and said very loudly “that’s OK sweetie. I’d wait for you all day.”
Their booth was about 10 feet from the bathroom. When I finally went to the bathroom I noticed that their table was full of crayon drawings. They BOTH were drawing and comparing pictures. When I left after an hour they were still drawing and giggling like little kids.
Have felt bad about judging him based upon appearance ever since … and have tried to be a bit more accepting of other’s strangeness.