Bowling Across America

The recent cold snap has sent BowlingJoe into a downward spiral of the condition known as “cabin fever”. When it snows buckets in the Pacific Northwest it has a tendency to paralyze its unprepared and unfunded communities. It also makes it impossible to get a rear wheel drive Toyota Tacoma pickup truck out of the driveway.

This is not to say I haven’t been out of the house at all since Boeing started its annual winter hiatus a few days ago. We are fortunate enough to have an all-wheel drive vehicle. Still, it’s an adventure out there on the side streets. And there are only so many times that I can watch classic bowling movies such as “Kingpin” and “The Big Lebowski” from the comfort of my imitation La-Z-Boy chair.

A while back, I blogged about a group that I'm a part of and noted that it’s likely that I’m the only league bowler who also belongs to a regularly scheduled book discussion group. This of course debunks the myth that all bowlers are functionally illiterate. Most are. But not all.

With this in mind, I started reading a book that my university archivist friend Mike made me aware of a couple of months back. I ordered it from Amazon, waiting for the right time to dig into it. Well, the time is now.

A regular guy named Mike Walsh wrote a book that was released earlier this year called “Bowling Across America: 50 States in Rented Shoes”. The “rented shoes” part is a pretty good indicator that he’s not a league bowler and does not own his own equipment. And that would be correct. In fact, according to his website, on the trip he averaged between 123 and 154 pins per game depending on the quantity of alcohol he consumed (and if he's telling the truth, he consumed Hunter S. Thompson-esque quantities on his particular quest to find America's pulse). I have a “diminishing returns” theory pertaining to this but that’s another story for another time.

After Walsh’s father passed away a few years ago he quit his nine to five job at an advertising agency in Chicago, borrowed his mother’s car and set out to bowl in all fifty states. You see, his dad loved the sport of handball and had a goal to play the game in every state. He didn’t live long enough to see it through, but with that in mind, Walsh set out to do the same at the nation’s bowling alleys.

Why bowling alleys? He contends that they are microcosms of the communities they reside in, warts and all. And having been in way more of them than I should admit, he’s right. I’ve bowled with bank presidents and the perennially unemployed on the same pair of lanes. On any given day, you can see an elementary school bus and a senior citizen van sitting in the same parking lot in front of the building.

True, there is a lot of bowling-related content in the book, but that’s far from what has made it an entertaining and often insightful read after around 80 pages or so. One gets the sense of what a given community is about as he immerses himself into each bowling center. His stories are often humorous, filled with real people, the likes of which all of us have met on our varied journeys.

I’m now looking forward to reading about what happens to him in Massachusetts and beyond. It’s not rocket science but it’s sure been a lot of fun and a great way to take my mind off the fact that our street is more suited for a game of curling instead of driving on these days.

As for the author, I have no idea what he’s doing for a living these days (aside from book tours anyway) since he has gotten back from his journey. Maybe I’ll ask him.

Mexican Riviera Part Four: Cruising

BowlingJoe starting the cruise properly

As I write this last installment of cruising in Mexico, it’s worth noting that there are ten inches of snow in our yard and it hasn’t been above freezing for days. The other night our mercury recorded a temperature of 5.2 degrees Fahrenheit. As cold as I’ve ever seen it here in the Puget Sound. An encore visit to Mexico would appear to be in order.

Okay…cruising. This was our second cruise. The first was a few years ago and departed from Seattle with stops in Juneau, Ketchikan, and Skagway, Alaska. That was on the Sapphire Princess. Overall we found that Princess Cruises tend to be a cut above Royal Caribbean in pretty much all ways. But then Royal Caribbean’s prices were a bit lower, and would have been even more so had we elected to go the “last minute” cruise route.

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Top deck of the Vision of the Seas
After spending the first night of the trip in Long Beach, CA, we departed from the World Cruise Center (Port of Los Angeles) in San Pedro, CA on a Sunday morning. The only cruise ship we actually saw there was ours, The Vision of the Seas. But there were an incredible amount of cranes, rail cars, and shipping containers. If this isn’t the busiest port in the country then it’s mighty close.

Boarding the ship was uneventful. A good thing when thousands of your closest friends are also trying to get onboard and settled. Our stateroom was less than 100 square feet in area, the smallest and least expensive. For us, having a large space and/or an ocean view wasn’t a priority since that’s what the rest of the ship is for.

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Viviana and Charlie: great dinner companions
At dinner on the first night we were assigned to a table after some initial confusion on the part of the staff. If there is only one or two of you and you’re not traveling with family or friends, you’ll be randomly assigned to a table of four, six or eight. This is a lot like playing the lottery as there's a decent chance that you could be seated at the same table as Gilbert Gottfried. We were offered a table for four, and felt like we won this particular lottery with the couple who joined us every night to swap stories about what we did during the day. Charlie and Viviana are younger than us and opted to do more adventurous shore excursions such as riding zip lines and swimming with dolphins. I’m sure that if they had the chance to spend a half-hour in a shark cage they’d have been up for that, too. They’re from Livermore, CA (near Oakland) and we ended up exchanging e-mail information and promising to show each other around our respective towns should the situation ever come up. Charlie even offered to drop us off in the middle of Oakland at midnight on a Saturday night so that we could see first-hand what the city is really like. What a pal!

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BowlingJoe and BowlingWidow at dinner
When we were out at sea, there were always things to do on the ship, from trivia contests to rock climbing. And if you don’t want to do a damned thing, just find a lounge chair in a secluded area of the boat, bring a book, your favorite beverage and you’re set. Food and drink are everywhere (you do have to pay extra for some things such as alcohol….dang!) and you can eat your way through the day if that’s what you want to do. Good thing there are exercise classes available, too. Speaking of the food, cruising is an ideal time to enjoy meals you don’t necessarily partake on a regular basis at home. Every night there are numerous selections to choose from on the menu. For example, on successive nights I had prime rib, lamb, lobster, and duck. I even got brave and tried some escargot that Charlie had ordered up. Not bad at all. Tastes like mussels.

There was nightly entertainment on the ship as well. The results were mixed. The live orchestra was a nice touch, but as a captive audience it’s easy to see that the Royal Caribbean singers and dancers have their good nights and their bad nights. One of the shows was a musical tribute to the 1970s. I mean, we had to live through K.C. and the Sunshine Band and The Bee Gees the FIRST time for crying out loud. And the comedians? Well, let’s just say that they’re veterans of the cruise circuit and nothing else.

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Fifty-one countries are represented with the ship's crew
Cruising isn’t for everyone. And BowlingWidow and I certainly wouldn’t want to spend every vacation doing it. But it’s a decent choice and relatively inexpensive way to relax and see a lot of cities without a lot of taxis and hotel stays. The optional land excursions usually have something for everyone. Or one can just get off the ship and wander around independently. But be sure you’re back in time for the sailing. They WILL leave without you and one way flights home aren’t cheap.

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Sunset on The Vision of the Seas
Next time we’re thinking that a cruise to Nova Scotia would be alright. I’m sure it’s far balmier in Nova Scotia than it is in Seattle now.

Mexican Riviera Part Three: Puerto Vallarta

Puerto Vallarta: lots of cranes and construction
Our final stop on the cruise was Puerto Vallarta. A town of 144,000 in the state of Jalisco, it was once a busy little village of industries such as mining and fishing. That all changed in the early 1960s when the film crew and cast of “Night of the Iguana” showed up. Then everybody started arriving to the point where more than 50% of this place exists entirely because of tourism. Puerto Vallarta was the only place we visited where there was a lot of obvious building of high rises going on.

As in Mazatlan the day before, we opted for a tour of old town Puerto Vallarta. Only this tour would end with a bonus, as we would head to a tequila factory outside of town to learn how the lethal concoction is made and to try a few samples.

As the bus was leaving “new” Puerto Vallarta bound for the older boardwalk area we noticed that there was a Wal-Mart and a Home Depot. Just when you think you’ve gotten away from it, there it is. The first thing we noticed about the boardwalk along the beach is that it was lined with beautiful al fresco sculptures called the Malecon.

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One of the many beautiful sculptures in old P.V.

Further down the beach we were able to watch a ritualistic event performed by an Indian group called Danza de los Voladores de Papantla (Dance of Papantla's flyers). It takes place atop a very high pole and you would not catch BowlingJoe up there without a harness, a parachute and a very large trampoline below.

After a tour through the main cathedral and plaza of the town (Our Lady of Guadalupe in El Centro, with a fairly new construction completion date of 1951) it was time to head out to the country, specifically to a hacienda, where we would be greeting by the friendly employees of the Dona Engracia tequila factory.

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Papantla's Flyers of Puerto Vallarta
The state of Jalisco is a hotbed of tequila makers. We were told there are 81 in the state, far more than the rest of Mexico combined. Most are small operations, often with a taco stand and cantina also on the grounds, such as this one.

Tequila is made from blue agave plants. The leaves are useless and it’s the pineapple-like (in shape and texture but not flavor) sweet root that resides under the ground that’s coveted. The agave is crushed, cooked and placed in fermentation tanks for the distilling process along with the closely guarded yeast recipe. After that point it becomes blanco (white) tequila, which is essentially unaged, bottled and sold. Other types of tequila are those that are aged in oak barrels exactly as distilleries in the United States do. This is what gives the product its golden-brown color. Tequilas aged in barrels from three months to a year are called reposado (rested), while those stored for over a year are known as anejo (vintage). There are lots of other variations; too many to get into now.

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Part of the process of creating tequila
After the tour we settled down for a fantastic taco lunch featuring tortillas that were made in front of us and left the place with two bottles of the finest tequila in all of Jalisco: one blanco and one anejo. We’re not true tequila drinkers so we figure it’ll last us through two years or so of special occasions.

The trip back to the ship allowed us some time to catch a glimpse of rural Mexico. As one might imagine, these are people who are literally just scraping by. I’m not sure to what extent the Mexican government assists, but nearly every place we drove past on the country road had a sign out in an effort to sell food, jewelry, produce….whatever. They live a much different life than most of us back in the states, but that’s all most of them have ever known. And at the end of the day, like us, they simply want to provide for their families as best they can.

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A typical street in rural Jalisco

This wraps up the ports o’ call. Next is the final chapter on the overall cruising experience to Mexico on The Vision of the Seas.

Mexican Riviera Part Two: Mazatlan

View of Mazatlan from the pier

After a quick trip across the Sea of Cortez, we arrived at Mazatlan. A city of around 400,000 people in the state of Sinaloa (home of the world's finest drug traffickers), Mazatlan is Aztecan for "place of the deer". Apparently there were a lot of them roaming around at one time,and the local Mexican League baseball team honors this by having the nickname “venados” (deer). For you fans of the beers of the world, the brand Pacifico is brewed in downtown Mazatlan just a stones throw away from the dock. A final fun fact? Mazatlan and Seattle, WA are "sister cities".

Mazatlan cliff diver in action
In cruising literature, Mazatlan is divided into two parts. One is called the Golden Zone. This is where the pitchmen on the ship encouraged us to go and buy diamonds, sit on the beach and buy expensive drinks and the like. I'm sure the financial arrangement between those businesses and Royal Caribbean works very well for both of them but we weren't interested in playing. We wanted to see what Mazatlan is like and not what the Ramada Corporation thinks it ought to be like.

So we signed on to a city walking tour of the "other part" of Mazatlan....Old Mazatlan. After a whirlwind bus ride through parts of Mazatlan that looked darned interesting (but wouldn't want to walk alone in) we arrived at the waterfront. We immediately started to learn about the history of Mazatlan from Jesus himself....um....that was our tour guide's name actually. He pointed out a cave in the side of a mountain that ice was once stored in. We saw beautiful sculptures on the beach, as well as cliff divers carefully guessing wind speed and direction before they made their accurate plunges.

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The Cathedral of Immaculate Conception

We turned inland toward the city, and visited a bakery that has been there for nearly 100 years. It was unmarked on the outside. You just have to know that that's where the bakery is. We peered inside the Melville Suites. The author of "Moby Dick" lived in Mazatlan for a bit in the mid-1800s.

After visits to a museum, a restored opera house (Teatro Angela Peralta) and the cathedral (Cathedral of Immaculate Conception, built in 1875) it was time to get a bite to eat before we broke from the tour group to explore the Central Market on our own. Our tour guide suggested a place called Panama’s. They served up a nice plate of chicken enchiladas while BowlingWidow opted for the some kind of a corn cake topped with chicken and cheese. Can’t remember what it was called but she really liked it.

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Mazatlan butcher: waste not, want not

Mazatlan’s Central Market is a hodge-podge of a lot of different kinds of family run businesses under one roof. Kind of like Seattle’s Pike Place Market only far older and without money for improvements. It was actually designed by Gustave Eiffel. Yes, the Eiffel Tower guy. There were several butcher shops and fish markets, all of which served as a reminder that the locals will let no part of an animal go to waste. Not always what I’m looking for as a taco filling but its nice knowing I could.

After going through some produce stands and tiny grocery areas (where we purchased some pure vanilla) it was time to sample some real food from a real hole-in-the wall taco stand. First, we made sure there were some actual customers eating there and that it wasn’t a popular place among the insect community. Good on both counts. I ordered a carne asada taco, delightfully simply prepared with a small layer of whole beans at the bottom and the seasoned meat coming next with a bit of fresh cilantro sprinkled on top. I asked in fractured Spanish which of the salsas was the spiciest and was kindly rewarded. As for BowlingWidow, well, she was content just to watch the action.

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The street outside of the Central Market

We moved on to the leather and purses section where we skillfully negotiated the purchase of a small purse for our son’s girlfriend back at home. We didn’t move them down a whole lot of pesos but were satisfied with a $2 or so reduction from the original asking price. As Americans, bartering just didn’t come naturally.

Some of the images of the streets of old downtown Mazatlan will remain with us both for better and for worse. The city seemed to be a bustling place with people going about their business. Even festive in parts. But then there was the blind man sitting on a corner begging. He controlled a small bucket that was suspended by ropes looped on either side of it. I hesitate to say he held it, because he had no hands. The ropes were set on at the end of his arms, at the wrists. As we learned in Los Cabos, Mexico is a country of contrasts.

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Market scene: love that Mexican wrestling poster

With a couple of hours left before the ship was scheduled to leave, we decided to play it safe and get a taxi back to the pier. The driver of the large golf-cart-like vehicle was maniacal as he crazily sped through intersections offering a simple honk of the horn a split second before he got to them. Everything you probably believe to be true about Mexican cab drivers is accurate.

Next up: Puerto Vallarta.

Mexico: Reportus Interruptus

I'm currently in the midst of the cyberspace equivalent of a rain delay. Our home computer, after nearly six years of valiant service, has recently "bought the farm" and will be on its way to electronic heaven in a few days.

A replacement should be service-ready by this coming weekend, at which time I'll resume with part two, in which BowlingWidow and I bribe prison guards, federal police and taxi drivers to make it back to our cruise ship, leaping on board from the gangplank just as it pulls out to sea.

BowlingJoe