BowlingJoe

Mother, Mexican Food and Mecca

2012-01-31T18:19:00.000-08:00

I never would have thought I'd say this fifteen years ago, but I love to visit Southern California. I wouldn't want to live there, but despite its sheer amount of humanity and the irritability that I often feel traveling in a post-9/11 world, it's darned nice to be able to get away from a foot of snow in January. Even if it means high winds and unseasonably low temperatures in the Coachella Valley where I visited. Oh yeah, and the Mexican food here is better, cheaper and more authentic than we have in the Pacific Northwest.

BowlingJoe and his Mother in Indio, CA

My mother lives in a small mobile home community in the town of Indio, east of Palm Springs, and I took a solo trip for a few days last week to see her. As luck would have it, Palm Springs was having one of its worst wind storms of the year...oh...just about the time the plane was on its final approach. I fly a few times a year and am used to the bumps, but this turbulence was like a bad dream involving a wicked witch, a frightened girl, and a flying house. Somehow we managed to land. I'm guessing the pilots were doing tequila shots when they were on the ground to calm their nerves.

Speaking of which, shortly after getting out of the airport my mother and I dropped in at a watering hole called The Beer Hunter in nearby La Quinta. La Quinta is Spanish for "golf courses with exorbitantly priced greens fees". Being a beer snob from Washington State, I was hoping to find a good IPA to quench my thirst. This is challenging in Southern California so I felt lucky to get some draft Sierra Nevada Pale Ale while the winds continued to whip outside. The wind even blew in some caddies from the nearby PGA golf tournament that was postponed after promotional tents started rolling around like tumbleweeds on the course. I learned that some caddies like to drink. A lot.

Some Scenic Drives North of the Coachella Valley

Naturally, I wound up spending the next morning of the trip with my mother, cleaning up blown in sand dunes around her home with a shop-vac. This is actually the perfect way to work up a guilt-free appetite for an In-N-Out burger. I'm tellin' ya' we really need some of these burger places here in the Northwest.

The Salton Sea: Population 1,000,000........Birds

Something else we did was visit the north end of the Salton Sea. This is a huge and somewhat hideous body of water that's actually a couple of hundred feet below sea level (to its credit though, it does attract an enormous number of bird species). It's fed by rivers and streams as well agricultural runoff drainage systems. And it's nearly as salty as the Great Salt Lake. For more information check out the Googles, Wikipedias, and Internets.

Bombay Beach: Actually one of the Better Neighborhoods

For me, the most fascinating sight at the shores of the Salton Sea is a little town called Bombay Beach. Back in the 1920s, someone had a brilliant idea to create a resort getaway town for tourists to spend weekends. But when dead fish started washing up on shore and storms raised water levels beyond belief, it all began to unravel. What you have now is a sparsely populated train wreck of a town that exists because of a few railroad workers and the fact that it's the only place around for miles that has a store. Feral cats roam the streets and properties laden with structures in various states of crumble are in abundance. The word "ruins" comes to mind. I think the original Bomb ay in India was cleaner. Someone made an award winning documentary film about Bombay Beach and I really need to see it.

We spent the last full day driving through the various towns in the Coachella Valley. Indio, Cathedral City, Palm Desert, Palm Springs, and so on. I was pleased to find the town of Mecca. Some of us have been looking for Mecca our whole lives. And here it was: just off Highway 111 in Riverside County, California. Who knew?

Beer Heaven in Lake Stevens, WA

2011-12-23T19:32:00.000-08:00

There are times when I suddenly realize that some of the coolest places around are within a short drive of our house. As a purveyor of fine ales, I had one of those golden moments a couple of months ago when I discovered Norm's Market. I know that we're lucky to live in a region that's rich in microbreweries filled with stellar establishments to sample them.

Norm's: a seemingly mild mannered mini-mart bursting with malt and hops

But I was completely unprepared for what I learned was in nearby Lake Stevens, WA. On the outside it looks like your garden variety Shell Mini-Mart and gas station. But it's beer-o-mania on the inside. Not only do they have walls and walls loaded with refrigerators filled with bottled beer from everywhere you can imagine. Their walk-in cooler boasts an inventory of 52 quality micros on draft, all of which are vying for a spot in your 64 ounce growler that they're happy to fill for you. That's right: fifty two. One for each week of the year. But you'll need to drink at a faster pace than that since different products are being rotated in every couple of weeks or so.

For the beer connoisseur Norm's Market is Mecca. It rivals any place in the city of Seattle, 45 minutes away. Check it out. It's well worth a visit. Or several.

BowlingJoe next to the menu: 52 beers on tap waiting to fill your growler

Norm's Market is on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/normsmarket

Everett Herald article about Norm's: http://www.heraldnet.com/article/20110628/LIVING/706299980

Here is a recent sample of growler fill offerings... all $9.99 (unless otherwise marked) That's only $2.50 a pint if you do the math!!!

1. Southern Tier Pumpkin (New York) 8.6% $13.99
2. Dogfish Head Chicory Stout 14.99
3. Samuel Adams Double Pumpkin Ale 8.5% ( Boston,Ma) Sale $9.99
4. Mac N Jacks Blackcat Porter 5.3% (Redmond)
5. Mac' N Jacks Serengeti Wheat 4.7%
6. Mac & Jack Two Tun Ipa 7% (Redmond, Wa)
7. Mac 'n Jack's African Amber Ale 5.2% (Redmond)
8. Mac 'n Jack's Cascadian Dark Ale 6.9 (Redmond)
9. Hibernation Ale 8.8% $11.99
10. Humbolt Brewing Co. Nectar IPA (Ca) 6.8%
11. Big E's Rootbeer Non-Alcoholic (Lynwood)
12. Dogfish Head 90 Min IPA $15.99
13. Sleigh'R Double Alt Ale (Ninkasi) 9.99
14. Ninkasi Tricerahops 8.8% (OR) $11.99
15. Manny's Pale Ale (Georgetown) $9.99
16. Men's Room Original Red (Seattle) Eylsian Brewing 5.6%
17. Organic Abominable Winter Ale Hub Brew 7.3% (OR) $12.99
18. Stella Artois German Lager
19. Steelhead Dbl IPA -Mad River Brewery 11.99
20. Imperial Coconut Porter Maui Brewing Co. (Hi) $14.99
21. Spire Dark and Dry Cider $12.99
22. Diamond Knot HO HO $11.99
23. Super Cru Lips of Faith 10% (CO) $12.99
24. Georgetown Porter, Georgetown Seattle $9.99
25. New Belgium Down Under w/Passion Fruit (Seattle) 12.99
26. Stone Arrogant Bastard (CA) 7.2%
27. North Sound Goosetown Brown 6.8% (Mt. Vernon) $9.99
28. Scuttlebutt 10' Below 7.4% (Everett)
29. Great Divide Smoked Baltic Porter (Co) 7.5% $12.99
30. Autumn IPAnox- Cascade Brewery 6.7% (OR) $12.99
31. Firestone Velvet Merlin Oatmeal Stout $10.99
32. Lenny's R.I.P.A. He'Brew 10% (Saratoga Springs, N.Y.) $14.99
33. Widmer Brrrr 7.2% $18.99
34. Big E Cinnamon Sour (Lynnwood, Wa) $11.99
35. Diamond Knot Industrial Pale Ale (Mukilteo) 7.9% $10.99
36. Mt. Shasta Jalapeno (Ca) $14.99
37. Pyramid Imperial Hefeweizen 7.5%
38. Cascade Brewing Imperial Amber 7.2% (OR) $12.99
39. Great Divide Fresh Hop Pale Ale (Co) 6.1% $12.99
40. Irish Death Iron Horse Brewery (Ellensburg)
41. Wingman Porter 9.99
42. Big E Winter Blackberry Ale 7.2% (Lynwood)
43. Southern Tier Creme Brulee 19.99
44. Hooegarden Belgina beer $10.99
45. Stone Levitation Ale 4.4% (CA)
46. Fearless Mjoldir Double IPA 8% $10.99
47. The Vaporizer Pale Ale- Double Mountain Brewery 6% (OR)
48. Effen Heffen Skookum (Arlington, Wa)
49. Dogfish Head Chateau Jiahu 10% (DE) 19.99
50. Judith Yeast, Beer Valley (Or) $12.99
51. Hop Dog Double Wheat IPA, Midnight Sun Brew. (AK) $18.99
52. North Sound Imperial Red $14.99

Norm's has an incredible selection of bottled beers from everywhere

The Name of the Dish is Turducken

2011-12-11T15:12:00.000-08:00

We were in the mood to try something new for Thanksgiving this year. Not that we have anything against putting a turkey in a smoker for several hours as we have the last few years. We figured we'd do that also. But 2011, for better or for worse, goes down as The Year of the Turducken.

In the package, thawed and ready to cook

This is shorthand for Turkey, Duck and Chicken. In case you're wondering there isn't a Turducken farm where you can go get one of these birds. At least not on this planet. Most of these Frankenbirds are constructed in the south. We happened to have acquired ours frozen and ready to cook, shipped from Lake Charles, Louisiana.

I'm sure there are various ways to construct them, but ours started with a de-boned turkey (except for wings and drumsticks) that was laid out in sort of a butterfly fashion. A layer of stuffing that consists of cornbread and pork rice is added, followed by the duck, similarly de-boned and presented. Another layer of stuffing is applied, followed by the smallest bird, the chicken. The whole thing is somehow turned into a giant pouch of poultry, sewn up, seasoned with some Cajun spices, and cooked in the oven as per normal.

The Turducken: Ready to serve, just before we busted it open like a pinata

The results? I'd have to say mixed at best. While the flavor of the meat was certainly passable, it lacked the moistness that we had become accustomed to with plain old turkey over the years. And then there was the mess. After the first slice we were dealing with an Avian Pinata of stuffing. None of it really stayed too well in tact as we cut into it.

Overall I think our crowd of twelve appreciated the effort but were glad that we also had that backup bird heating up in the smoker. Next time I think we won't mess with a good thing.

On Fire at Wing Dome!

2011-11-02T14:25:00.000-07:00

It’s no secret that BowlingJoe is an aficionado of all things spicy. With that in mind, BowlingWidow and I paid a visit to a food joint that has been on what might be called my bucket list for a couple of years now. The place is called Wing Dome (I imagine the name was inspired by the Kingdome before it was blown to smithereens) and there are a few of them distributed around the Puget Sound. Unfortunately none particularly near casa de BowlingJoe.

So after our Pilates session on Saturday morning we trekked to North Seattle in an effort to assess just how hot their wing sauce really is. The different sauces heat “alarm” scale runs from one to seven. Seven-alarm sauce is reserved for those crazies who want a truly painful challenge. Seven minutes to eat seven wings with nothing to wash them down with or otherwise provide relief. I’ve seen the Wing Dome contestants’ pain up close on a Food Network TV show and opted not to give that a try. At least not now.

The Original Wing Dome in North Seattle

One-alarm is dubbed “mild and flavorful” while the six-alarm sauce has the tagline “I can’t feel my face”. That was the one for me. We ordered beers which, in retrospect, may not have been the brightest move since all it really does is move the heat around the tongue, not cooling things down a bit as a glass of milk might.

The wings arrived with plenty of six-alarm sauce coating them. The first three wings gave me little or no problem. As someone who puts Tabasco sauce on everything from nachos to macaroni and cheese I was thinking that this would be easy. But as I found out, the presence of habanero peppers in this dangerous stew had quite a cumulative heat effect on my veteran taste buds. By the time I got to the fifth of the six wings that were on my plate I was starting to sweat noticeably. Clearly the final wing would require concentration and focus if I wanted to hit the finish line without realizing a “reversal of fortune”.

Looks Like Another Victim of the Seven-Alarm Challenge to Me

Was I successful? Does a one-legged duck swim in a circle? Indeed I was. BowlingWidow even thought that I could have passed the seven-alarm challenge and earned a place on the Wing Dome Wall of Flame. I’ll have to think about that one, though. Perhaps I’ll buy one of those wings next time. If the flame is too hot, I’m only out $1.99. But if not, the challenge of conquering some of the hottest peppers know to man might just be added to that bucket list.

Out of the Darkness

2011-10-18T11:51:00.000-07:00

BowlingWidow and I enjoy participating in events that combine exercise and a good cause. That’s why we immediately said “yes” to an opportunity that was presented to us a few months ago by one of her co-workers at Sno-Isle Libraries. The event, which took place a few days ago, was one of many that happen at various times and locations around the country and are known as the Out of the Darkness Community Walk.

The walk and resulting donations are a benefit for the non-profit American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. A few of the many purposes of the AFSP include the support of scientific studies to improve the understanding of suicides and their prevention, educating the public, and providing programs and resources for survivors of suicide loss and people at risk.

Here’s a statistic I just read the other day: in 2010, there were more American soldiers (468, including enlisted soldiers and veterans) that took their own lives than those killed in combat (462). The same with 2009 according to Congressional Quarterly.

The co-worker I referenced above lost her son to suicide while he was serving in Iraq in 2007. I’ll likely never understand how she feels, what her and her family have been through, and what they continue to go through. I can only imagine that there is nothing worse. As parents, our kids are supposed to outlive us by a generation, not the other way around.

Some of Team CRANE getting ready for the Out of the Darkness Walk

During the walk around Lake Padden in Bellingham, I wondered how we can have a national dialogue about cancer, heart disease, and so on…..but suicide and mental illness seem to get relatively little visibility. This is despite the fact that suicides claim 34,000 lives per year in this country. And like cancer and heart disease it doesn’t discriminate between rich or poor, black or white, male or female, young or old.

It seems like a tall order in the face of budget reductions and cutbacks but we should be as aggressive about identifying symptoms of depression and mental illness as we are about screening for cancer. Admittedly, it’s far more challenging to understand such symptoms but the human cost of not doing so is devastating.

I won’t pretend that this blog has a big audience but if someone who reads this volunteers their time or makes a donation in some way to the AFSP, then this post has been well worth my time.

Finally, and speaking of blogs, I’d like to give a shout out to a site created by an acquaintance I’ve known since 1974. She does a remarkable job of telling her own story of battling mental illness as well as commentary on current events related to the topic. It can be found at:

http://crazymer1.wordpress.com/

Michael T. Dogg, Remembered

2011-09-18T09:01:00.000-07:00

Five years ago this month, we said goodbye to our friend and companion, Mike The Dog. To pay tribute to his life here is an obituary I wrote shortly after his death.

MICHAEL T. DOGG (1991 – 2006)

Our longtime resident and companion, Michael T. Dogg, was “put to rest” on September 22, 2006 after a short illness and has moved on to meet Dog. Mike was always quick to point out that, although his last name was spelled the same, he was not related to Snoop in any way.

Mike was an idiot, even by canine standards, and his medical records confirm that he had a brain approximately the size of a (small) pistachio nut. But he was a kind soul who loved his family and appropriately barked at the UPS truck as well as other dangers that threatened the family. Always lean, in his younger days he had greyhound speed and loved to sprint around 10 acre fields for no apparent reason.

In addition to running, his hobbies included coprophagy and the dominant mounting of any male dog that dared to set legs onto his territory (not that there's anything wrong with it).

Mike will be missed by his family: Tami, Joe and Ian Clark, as well as his cat and understudy Harvey D. Birdkill. In lieu of flowers, cards or donations, Mike asked prior to his death that well-wishers bark uncontrollably at the vacuum cleaner once or twice in his memory.

Orcas Island Getaway

2011-08-29T18:27:00.000-07:00

I have a confession: I've been a native Washingtonian and resident for more than fifty years now, and there are places in this state that I can hardly believe I haven't visited. One of those places I can now happily check off that list. Although I've been to San Juan Island, I've never visited Orcas Island in the same vicinity until recently.

A member of my book group, The Plummeting Tortoises, happens to have a family cabin that sits on the north side of Orcas Island. We got together for an overnight stay last week where we discussed the book ("The Year of the Flood" by Margaret Atwood which we all liked a great deal) and did an admirable job of eating, drinking, listening to music and generally doing plenty of nothing.

View from the beach: Robert, Steven, Tim

In the morning I immediately hit the kitchen and prepared chorizo and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Give me any opportunity to impose Mexican food of any kind on a captive audience and I'm all over it.

One of the highlights? That would be Robert and Steven breaking out the dulcimers (doesn't everyone have a dulcimer or two sitting around the house?) with Steven's vocal and Tim accompanying on body percussion. Here is a clip I recorded in a clandestine moment:

Weekend in Leavenworth

2011-08-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, so the town of Leavenworth, WA is to Bavarian culture what surimi is to authentic crab meat. But it's been years since we've made the scene there and BowlingWidow chose this Central Washington destination for the celebration of her 50th birthday (oops, did I just reveal her age???).

The first thing you notice when you get into town is the traffic. My advice for anyone arriving on a hot Saturday after noon is this: find a free gravel parking lot on the edge of town and walk. You'll get there faster. The second thing you notice is that every business in town is decked out in some sort of quaint livery. As one might expect this is true for the vast amounts of wine, cheese and sausage shops. But it also spills over into Safeway, Union 76, and McDonalds. Any city that can get McDonalds to roll over and fetch like that is okay in my book. And here's an added bonus: there are more clean public toilets per capita in Leavenworth than any place I've been. I can't believe that Frommers hasn't mentioned this.

A quiet Sunday morning in Leavenworth

After we finished making our first pass through town, we had some time before checking in to the bed and breakfast. And there is one craft brewery, Icicle Brewing, in Leavenworth. I think you can connect the dots that lead to appetizers and a frosty IPA.

The place we stayed at was called Abdenblume, a top of the line B&B that's about a mile north of town. It was rustic and elegant with stylish and tasty breakfasts. I know this was the case because I couldn't pronounce the names of whatever it was we were being served. Just one complaint about things: the bed and the bathtub were so elevated that I needed a vaulting pole to get to them. I should have asked for the room that's made for the man with a 29-inch inseam.

Abdenblume bed and breakfast: that's our balcony on the left

Saturday's dinner was an unsuspected hit. We ate at a place called "South "a restaurant specializing in the traditional regional food of Mexico. BowlingWidow had the Fish Veracruz while I indulged on an array of pork tacos. Forget about being in the land of sauerkraut and go here. It's well worth it.

After Sunday's breakfast we ventured back into to town for a 2 hour float on Icicle Creek and the Wenatchee River. For just 17 bucks each, Tube Leavenworth will drive you to the river entrance, issue you a covered inner tube (that's surprisingly comfortable), and pick you up when it's all over. A great deal and it's quite the laid back experience. The only real "danger"is dodging the occasional rock or deadhead (no, not those kinds of deadheads) and avoiding bored anglers who cast their fishing lines at you.

BowlingJoe and his new friend

As luck would have it, we were dropped off after the float right next to a beer garden called Der Hinterhof. This played right into our hand as we hadn't had a bratwurst sandwich yet. This is a great place, outdoors with plenty of umbrellas and live music every now and then. BowlingWidow enjoyed a beer from their vast selection. I had to one-up her with my own liter tankard filled with draft dark lager from Roslyn Brewing. I figured that its keg made the 2 hour trip to the tap in better shape than something that was dispatched from Europe.

A true liter of beer

The next day we packed up and were outta there after the obligatory shopping for German mustard and a gift for Muffinheadedboy. But I'll be darned if we didn't get halfway home and realize we forgot to buy lederhosen. Oh well. Maybe next time.

Lunch With Dan Hicks

2011-07-18T19:24:00.000-07:00

There are quite a few bands I've been listening to for a long time that I'd like to catch live. Last Friday was a perfect storm of an opportunity to chalk up another one of those. If you read about my Jethro Tull experience a couple of blogs ago, it's obvious that crowd behavior and excessive ticket prices are becoming more of a reason for NOT attending concerts as I enter that phase of life called curmudgeondom (if that is in fact a real word). That's why the prospect of a free noontime concert at a small park in downtown Seattle featuring Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks was a no-brainer for me. And I was more than willing to take a half-day of vacation to do it on a nice day (defined as a day with no rain in these parts).

It was probably a bit earlier than what the band is accustomed to for a start time but they answered the bell without any problems. Aside from Hicks performing vocals/acoustic guitar, there was a stand up bassist, a mandolin player/fiddler and two ladies on vocals and a host of different percussion instruments. Their music is described in Wikipedia as at the "intersection of cowboy folk, jazz, country, swing, bluegrass, pop, and gypsy music". Really. It's all over the place and a lot of fun to listen to, even when helicopters are flying overhead.

Dan Hicks and a couple of the Hot Licks

Dan Hicks is 70 now. He's obviously not as quick and nimble as he once was, but still not bad for someone who survived the San Francisco music scene of the 1960s and 70s as a member of The Charlatans. To be alive and touring after all of the "medication" that he likely partook in at that time is really saying something.

It was a fine day. And anytime it costs more to park the truck than to attend a concert, I view it as a perfectly good deal.

In Praise of Papa Murphy's

2011-07-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

This isn't a food blog but I often find myself writing about food anyway. I'm dedicating this entry to one of mankind's greatest creations: the take and bake pizza. More specifically, Papa Murphy's take and bake pizza. Yeah, I know, it's fast food and not particularly healthy if you're counting calories. But that doesn't stop BowlingWidow and me from a weekly stampede to what has become a Friday night dinner ritual.

Papa Murphy's is a good company with an affordable and good tasting product. But don't just take my word for it. The other day, Consumer Reports gave them a stellar rating as the best pizza chain in America. Considering that they occupy strip mall real estate in every town with a population of greater than 5,000 this is good news.

Now, we don't just get a pizza, throw it in the oven for 15 minutes and call it good. Here's the drill:

1. Purchase a basic one-topping pizza with Canadian bacon or pepperoni. You can print a coupon on Papa Murphy's website for a large one-topping for around 7 bucks, which can be upgraded to a family size (their largest) for two dollars more. And don't forget to get your "frequent flyer"card punched while you're there. Ten punches is worth a $10 credit, or approximately a free pizza.

Before: The basic Papa Murphy's one-topping pizza

2. Put your own toppings on. You are empowered to put as much or as little of these as you'd like. A true custom pizza. We usually add: scallions (or red onion), green pepper, black olives, tomato (Roma or sun dried), garlic and Italian seasoning. And maybe a little extra mozzarella or Parmesan cheese. I've also been known to throw a few bottled sliced jalapeno rings on some slices with the understanding that they're a safe distance from BowlingWidow's slices of pizza.

3. Follow the cooking instructions.

4. Enjoy the sight and smell of your creation. It is art after all. Besides, it needs to cool down for a few minutes before you take the pizza cutter to it.

5. Slice, serve, and enjoy. Preferably with a nice Northwest brewed India Pale Ale.

After: Pizza as art and ready for the oven

6. Wait! There is more. If there are just two of you, there WILL be leftovers to wrap up and put in the fridge. And there's no better Saturday morning breakfast than pizza a la microwave.

Saturday Night Tull

2011-06-21T18:44:00.000-07:00

Jethro Tull has long been one of my favorite bands. But before I get started here, I need to point this out for those who may be misinformed (probably nobody who reads this, but there are many out there): Jethro Tull is not a person in the band. Jethro Tull invented the seed drill in the 18th century. The guy you're really thinking of is Ian Anderson, the vocalist who also plays flute. If I only had a dollar for everyone who has told me, "Jethro Tull....I really like his music." No you don't.

I've seen them a few times over the years, and thought it would be a nice thing for Muffinheadedboy, at age 23, to catch their act before Ian Anderson and Martin Barre became Too Old to Rock and Roll and Too Young to Die. So, along with five other friends, we bought some non-reserved lawn tickets at the St. Michelle Winery outdoor amphitheater in Woodinville, WA. Forty-five bucks plus a $12 "service fee" from Ticketmaster (which I truly believe is misleading and borderline criminal. Someone recently wrote a book about where the service charge money really goes among other things).

Pre-concert at Village Wines (L-R): 1/2 of Rob, Caitlin, Tim, BowlingJoe,
Muffinheadedboy (Thanks to Leftynemesis and Geoff for taking the picture)

We rendezvoused at a nearby place called Village Wines for some food, conversation, and vino. Nice place. Very comfortable. A destination where that slice of humanity once known as "yuppies" might gather after they get done working at Microsoft or the law office.

Under threatening skies, we arrived at the venue around an hour before the show started. Most everyone else must have arrived a half-hour before us, as we parked our blankets plenty of distance away from the stage. We headed down the hill to fetch a bottle of wine or two and it became readily apparent that we were way behind the group of people in front of us in the wine drinking department, judging by the number of empty bottles on the ground next to them. OK...NOW I remember why I gave up going to large outdoor concert venues where alcohol is liberally served.

Our view of the show: at least it wasn't foggy

As the show started with Jethro Tull really sounding nice, one of the morons in front of us clearly didn't want to sit down, obstructing the view of many behind him. We asked him he wouldn't mind taking a seat after putting up with it for a while but he was having no part of it. Courtesy was clearly not his strong point and he appeared to be enjoying his role. It's one thing to be a sociopath. It's another thing to be a drunk. But to be drunk AND a sociopath is simply not acceptable. Eventually, Muffinheadedboy (whose lap he drunkenly stumbled upon at one point) and I had a bit of an animated chat with him. At that point, the so-called venue "security" noticed that there might be trouble and intervened. It would have been nice if they were observant and proactive enough to do something about Mr. Stupid during the first few minutes of the show but they obviously had no interest in doing so.

Oh, well. Nobody really got hurt. That is except for the small gash on another one of the drunk losers that he acquired in an impromptu wrestling match with his buddy. Too bad he wasn't a hemophiliac. The 57 bucks would have been worth paying.

Here's my scorecard for the night:

Jethro Tull Performance: B-plus (great band, good sound, not too loud)
Weather: C-minus (it only drizzled during the last song)
Venue: a generous C (at least from my vantage point)
Fellow Audience Members: .18 on the breathalyzer

The impeccable Ian Anderson (left) and Martin Barre of Jethro Tull

The Accidental Reverend Strikes Again!

2011-06-07T17:08:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I officiated another wedding, my sixth, as my longtime bowling buddy Karl tied the knot with Petra. It took all of 5 or 10 minutes in a small park in Everett WA on a nice Memorial Day afternoon, with a few family members in attendance.

With the Happy Couple: Karl, BowlingJoe, Petra

My philosophy as a legal and functioning internet certified reverend in the Universal Life Church is quite simple: I don't advertise. I don't charge a fee. I really don't even have a yearning to perform weddings. BUT..if you're crazy enough to desire my services as a licensed Man of the (Loin) Cloth, then I'm crazy enough to accept the job. And to date, there are twelve of you out there who fall into that enigmatic category.

This all started several years ago when my friend Tim's daughter (Caitlin), who I've known her whole life, asked if I would officiate her wedding. I thanked her for asking but dismissed the idea and suggested that she find someone legitimate. She didn't take my "no"for an answer, however, and brought the topic up again. Since she asked me twice and appeared serious about it, I figured she actually did want Uncle BowlingJoe to do this. So it took place, in front of a nice crowd of her family and friends atop the Smith Tower in Seattle.

Since that fateful January night, friends, friends of friends, and family members have heard via word of mouth that I do this and have taken the plunge with The Accidental Reverend. I'll read whatever it is they want me to read for the occasion or even quickly improvise my way through. It's their day, not mine.

The Evidence: You Too Can be a Reverend in Minutes!

Finally, I can honestly state that my percentage of success as a wedding officiant is as good as or better than anyone in the business. They're all still together. Six for six. 100%. That's right up there with the Archbishop of Canterbury and clearly a better value for the customer. And yes, as an official in the Universal Life Church, I can legally perform exorcisms. Doing them in Latin, however, will cost you $200 plus expenses.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things...

2011-05-11T16:47:00.000-07:00

Almost every one of these blogspot things has a listing of favorite sites and other blogs that people can visit with one click of the mouse. This one is no exception. I also have a short (and really, you’ve gotta keep it short) list of 12 places that I’ve found to be meaningful in some way on this blog. Believe me, I’d like to have more but nobody wants to sift through pages of stuff. I’ve broken things up into three categories: Bowling (naturally), Music & Entertainment, and Miscellaneous Blogs and Sites.

Taking it from the top, in the Bowling category are the standings for my Thursday Scratch Trios league. It’s been a regular Thursday event for me from fall through spring each of the last 11 years. I’ve met a lot of good people in this league and have made friendships that will last a lifetime. Scoring-wise, the high point was a couple of years ago when I achieved a goal of averaging at least 210 over the course of a season with a nice 213 posting. The biggest downer was this year in which I could only bring home a 192 average. There’s always next year, though.

Next is the Professional Bowlers Association website. Anything a bowling geek such as me wants to know about the PBA can be found there.

In bowling's last entry is Missy Parkin’s blog (formerly known as Missy Bellinder). Not only is she the first woman to have joined the PBA, she’s a good writer and keeps her blog current. She also throws the maximum 16 pound ball even though she’s not big and strong. It proves how important the use of gravity is in bowling. Missy just won the prestigious Queens event which was nice to see.

In the next category, leading off is Dancing About Architecture. I became acquainted with David through BowlingWidow’s work at the library system. He’s a library manager who is a lexicon of all things music. He’ll throw out interesting posts on a musical topic whenever he feels like it. They’re always straight to the point and he uses words about as efficiently as I’ve seen.

Ken Levine is an Emmy award winning comedy writer (M*A*S*H, The Simpsons, etc.) among other things, including Major League Baseball announcer. He was with the Seattle Mariners in the 1980s when they were awful. And he’s back with them again this year on a part-time basis (and once again, they’re awful). I’ll always remember Levine’s Law: when you walk the leadoff batter he comes around to score 100% of the time, unless he doesn’t. He blogs at least once a day. Some are funnier than others but now and then he hits one out of the park.

I’ve been listening to the music of Al Stewart since 1977 when I first put the needle on the vinyl and listened to “Lord Grenville” on the Year of the Cat album. I haven’t looked back. I think I must have seen him live more than 15 times over the years, rarely missing a Seattle-area stop. Al basically invented a music genre: historical folk rock. Back in the days before the internet, I’d go to the library to research the names and places that he was singing about. He continues to make relevant and interesting music to this day.

Al’s touring guitarist is Dave Nachmanoff. I’ve known Dave for several years now and am happy to say that he’s become a friend and has in fact played a couple of concerts at our house for small audiences. He’s the best of Al’s past guitarists over the years wrapped up into one outstanding performer. But as good as he is at music, he’s an even better fellow human being. And he’s got a great manager who will do a search on recent references to his name and pull up this blog post. (Hi, Jared!). I’ll be seeing Al and Dave perform this Saturday and also helping Dave sell (hopefully) tons of his CDs at the merchandise table at intermission and after the show.

Moving in to the miscellaneous category we have The Plummeting Tortoises website. That would be my book group which meets monthly. I’ve often said that I’m the only member of the US Bowling Congress who belongs to a reading club. That may not be far from the truth. The group, which I’ve blogged about in the past, consists of three high-achieving academic types….and me. The fact is, I replaced a dead guy in 2004, and they invited me to stay. I’m not sure how much I really contribute to discussions but I speculate that they keep me around because I bring good food to the meetings every now and again.

My newest link is to Snide Remarks. This is an interesting story of a guy who goes by TSnide. Unknown to me, TSnide had been following my blog (and here I thought that only family members and a couple of friends did). As it turns out, TSnide recognized the name Bill “Minnesota Mauler” Kuhn, a Boeing/bowling friend who moved back to Minnesota a few years ago, from a post I made recently.

I’ve never met TSnide in person and may never. But I think we’re quite a bit alike: we both obviously enjoy writing. He’s an experienced scratch bowler and bowling purist who is in the minority of those who get excited about televised bowling. Me too. He has a past in radio and follows the business. I do too (well, sort of……I had a weekly show in college but never really did anything after that like he did other than losing a bet and interning for a day). He generally avoids politics and religion on his blog but has described himself a social liberal and a fiscal conservative. Check. He drives slow and walks fast. That’s me. There are differences as well though, in fairness. For example, he’s a golfer and has five kids. Sorry, TSnide. I can understand your love of the links but I’ll never understand the five kids thing. One’s enough for us. Anyway, check out his blog. He has some good stuff to say.

Catherine has been my group fitness instructor at Boeing for nearly a couple of years now. She was key in helping me lose 30 pounds (well, I’ve kept most of it off anyway) and attaining much improved strength and cardiovascular health. On the flip side I’m also blaming her for messing up my center of gravity and sending my bowling scores plunging. But seriously folks….I can’t imagine that there’s anyone who is better as a fitness coach then she is. I secretly worry that she’s going to get too big for her Boeing gig and move away to make big bucks as someone who trains the rich and famous. Click here for an interview I did featuring her a while back.

CrazyMermaid is an old acquaintance who I knew when our families lived in Hawaii for a construction project in 1974-75. We were 13 or 14. (That year is a horrible saga for a future blog post). She had (and still may be fighting) a serious bout with mental illness that cost her a career as a project manager and landed her in a hospital for an extended period of time. It’s an interesting, well written series of blogs. A compelling read and it’s all true.

Finally, Butterfly in Norway was a co-worker of mine for several years. She retired from Boeing and trekked off to Norway to a new job and a new adventure. Since it’ll probably be a while before we make it to Scandinavia, I always look forward to her brilliant pictures and descriptions of everything from the mountains to the open markets. Recently, her husband of 39 years passed away after a courageous battle with cancer. Fortunately, she’s got an outstanding support system of friends and family. She’ll be alright.

So that’s what’s currently on the right margin of this page. As always, subject to change and updates.

Hockey, Eh?

2011-05-02T14:00:00.000-07:00

It’s not easy to be a fan of professional sports in the Seattle area. Let’s take a quick look as to why that is:

A couple of years ago, Clay Bennett (with assists by David Stern and Howard Schultz) uprooted our Sonics and took them to Oklahoma City. Oklahoma City, for crying out loud. Wonder how long they’ll stay there. Now I was never a hardcore fan of the NBA, but at this point I have no idea who is in the playoffs nor do I care.

The 2011 Seattle Mariners are a lot like the 1979 Mariners, albeit in ballpark that’s far more fun to go to than the drab Kingdome was. Unfortunately, Kingdome-like attendance figures are being posted these days. 12,000 attendees just ain’t gonna cut it. Reminds me of my college days when we had the dome’s left field bleachers to ourselves as we taunted washed up Mariner outfielder Gorman Thomas relentlessly.

The Seahawks have “no direction home” as Bob Dylan might put it. QB Matt Hasselbeck will likely move on to another team and his heir apparent Charlie Whitehurst will have to do something other than hold a clipboard. Heck, there may not even BE an NFL season if owners and players can’t figure out how to divide up the billions.

OK, so maybe the soccer team, the Sounders, have given the city a bit of a pulse. Their games are somewhat entertaining. And there’s even a 30% chance that any given game won’t end in a tie.

But wait! There’s something happening north just of the border in Vancouver B.C. and I’m jumping on the bandwagon: Vancouver Canucks hockey. And not just hockey – playoff hockey! The Canucks finished with the best record in the NHL this season and just completed a nail-biting, high octane series against the Chicago Black Hawks. It was a sudden death overtime win in the seventh and deciding game. It can’t possibly get any closer.

The action is fast and furious. Watching games on high definition television is far superior to the old days when it was literally impossible to spot the puck (and really it still isn’t particularly easy for my 50-year-old set of eyes). And how do those guys do what they do on skates? I can’t even stand up on ice skates, let alone move forward, backward and plow into opponents at the speed of light.

The Canucks recently played their first game of the best of seven Western Conference semi-finals series …..and won 1-0 against the Nashville Predators. BowlingWidow doesn’t understand my new fascination with playoff hockey. I don’t fully understand it either. But I do know that what’s happening one country to the north of us is the best thing that’s happened in Seattle sports for years.

Now drop the puck!!!

Scandal On The Hardwoods!

2011-03-08T17:36:00.000-08:00

After a three month hiatus, maybe it’s time to kickstart this blog again. Not too much has been happening since my last post in November. I did somehow manage to turn 50 years old in January and am now one of the newest members of AARP, that dastardly liberal organization that dares to advocate affordable health care for its members and society at large.

Recently one of my bowling friends suggested that I blog about a little friendly “bragging rights” competition that we’ve been having this season. Bear in mind that my game has been on life support this season and it’s extremely painful for me dwell on this topic. But here goes.

The background: there are four of us (Brian “Cagney and” Lacey, Bill “Minnesota Mauler” Kuhn, Rick “Pull Tab King” Petosa , and myself). Rick and I bowl at the same center, Brian is in the south Puget Sound, and Bill took his act to Minnesota a few years ago. Every week we keep track of our three game league series’ with the highest score garnering 4 points (and the fictitious crown for the week) the second highest 3 points and so on down to 1 point.

This year it’s been the Brian and Bill show as they’re both averaging a respectable 206 pins per game. The Pull Tab King and I are at 186 and 190, respectively, longing for the days when our averages were right there with them.

Why the huge variation in scoring? Let me explain using three words: performance enhancing drugs. It’s a dirty little secret in the bowling community. The public in general has no idea of the extent to which the integrity of league bowling has been damaged. Rick and I have repeatedly shown negative results after our required random testing. Sure they found high levels of Cascade hops in our urine that we can't explain, but nothing that falls on the illegal list.

On the other hand, surveillance cameras in the bathroom stalls where Brian bowls clearly show one of his teammates injecting him with anabolic steroids prior to a match. This immediately enhances his lean muscle mass, allowing him to bowl at a pin-crushing 4 miles per hour faster than the rest of us.

And remember what a reporter found in Mark McGwire’s locker when he was bulking up with the Oakland A’s? That’s right. Androstenedione. Let’s just say that in Bill’s Minnesota locker he’s got a few more things than a couple of bowling balls, a pair of shoes and a towel. When he lines up on the approach, The Minnesota Mauler has more juice in him than a ripe watermelon.

So there you have it. No sour grapes here. I’m not the least bit upset that, by far, I’m having my worst bowling season in memory. It’s just that those are the facts and I’m sticking to them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to document another of my Elvis sightings.

Bill "Minnesota Mauler" Kuhn", Rick "Pull Tab King" Petosa, Brian "Cagney and" Lacey

One More Thing: About Those Ales...

2010-11-09T18:31:00.000-08:00

As a fan of good real ale, you didn't think that I'd pass up an opportunity to dedicate a full blog post to all that the UK and Ireland have to offer, did you?

Many Americans shudder at the notion of drinking "warm beer". In reality, the good stuff over there isn't warm but is served at cellar temperature which is around 54-57 degrees Fahrenheit. This compares with the flavor-stymieing 40 degrees or so that your garden variety American lager is served at.

Beginning in London, my favorites are the cask conditioned ales. These are naturally carbonated ales that don't include that fizzy mouth feel one gets from draft beer that artificially introduces CO-2 into the pour. Here is an account of some of my favorite London pubs and the ales that were consumed there:

First London Ale at Mortimer Arms

Mortimer Arms - Black Sheep Bitter
The Plough - Fuller's London Pride
Jack Horner's - Fuller's Extra Special Bitter (ESB)
Bree Louise - Brewdog Trashy Blonde (brewed on premises)
Bree Louise - Brewdog Punk India Pale Ale (IPA) (brewed on premises)
Crown & Anchor - Sambrook Wandle
Crown & Anchor - Canterbury Jack
The Market Porter - Harvey's Sussex IPA
Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese - Samuel Smith's Best Bitter
The Old Bank of England - Fuller's London Porter (on nitro)
The Royal George - Young's Bitter
Exmouth Arms - Adnam's Bitter
The Court - Everard's Tiger Bitter
The Court - Brakspeare Bitter
Jerusalem Tavern & St. Peter's Brewery - St. Peter's Best Bitter
The Coach and Horses - Adnam's Bitter
The Brew Wharf - Monkey's Head Red Ale (brewed on premises)
The Porcupine - Timothy Taylor Landlord

My favorite in London? Impossible to answer. I tend to lean toward IPAs (not quite as hoppy as what we get here in the Northwest however) and it was special drinking the Samuel Smith's in such an historic pub as the Cheshire Cheese, that was *rebuilt* in 1677. The last two that I had at The Brew Wharf and The Porcupine were pretty darned good as well.

Moving along to Ireland. One word here: Guinness. Now I have nothing but good things to say about Ireland's national drink, from the smooth roasted taste to the perfect tightly formed creamy head of foam. But Guinness is so dominant, especially around Dublin, that it's nearly impossible to find a diverse selection of ales and lagers.

BowlingJoe and the National Drink of Ireland

Pubs seem to be forced to pledge allegiance to Guinness, as 80% of the pubs we visited had the same array of offerings: Guinness Draught, Harp, Kilkenny, Smithwick's. All happened to be owned by the same parent company. After a few days of this we gave in and declared Guinness to be the not-so-willing-to-share conglomerate kings.

In Western Ireland diversity finally set in a bit as we saw more tap handles for Murphy's and Beamish Stouts. They were welcomed as an alternative and tended to be a bit heavier and more robust than the relatively smoother Guinness. Aside from the beer, I have to say that there's nothing like listening to traditional Irish music in a rustic pub that's been around longer than the United States has been in existance.

Tig Coili Pub in Galway

Here are some of the pubs visited in Ireland:

John Gogarty's (Dublin)
Kennedy's Pub (Dublin)
Central Hotel Library Bar (Dublin) - A must to visit!
The Stags Head (Dublin) - Built in 1770
The Gravity Bar at Guinness Storehouse (Dublin)
P.F. McCarthy's Pub (Kenmare)
Donovan's (Kenmare)
Murty Rabbitt's (Galway)
Tig Coili (Galway) - Great Trad Music
Porterhouse Pub (Galway)
World's End Pub (Galway)
Monroe's (Galway)

The Ornate Crown Liquor Saloon in Belfast

And we can't forget Northern Ireland:

Crown Liquor Saloon (Belfast) - Another must see place. Had a local cask ale called Copperhead. Finally!
Morning Star Pub & Restaurant (Belfast)
Auntie Annie's (Belfast)

Scotland is the final area of ale exploration on this journey. While there seem to be more pubs per square mile in Edinburgh than London, there are more breweries and styles down south. Scotland's beers, particularly McEwan's, the largest nation brand, tend to emphasize maltier over bitterness. Which actually makes sense since drinks with more body tend to go better with the harsher Scottish climate. Here's a look at much of where we were and what we had:

Caffrey's at Waverly Station in Edinburgh and....Yes that's Coors Light

Henry's Cellar Bar (Leith) - Orkney Blast
Henry's Cellar Bar (Leith) - Deuchars IPA
The King's Wark (Leith) - McEwans Ale
Deacon Brodie's Tavern (Edinburgh) - Timothy Taylor Golden Best (fruity with a non-characteristic burst of hops!)
Last Drop Pub (Edinburgh) - Caledonian 80
Beehive Pub (Edinburgh) - ???
Jolly Judge (Edinburgh) - ???
The Kenilworth (Edinburgh) - Harviestown Bitter & Twisted (award winning cask ale)
Oxford Pub (Edinburgh) - Ossian Golden Ale (This pub was amazing. The real thing.)
Milnes of Rose Street (Edinburgh) - Old Speckled Hen

Enough already. Of the four largest cities we visited here's how I'm rating them in terms of quality and diversity of their ale offerings:

Honorable Mention: Dublin, Ireland
Bronze Medal: Belfast, Northern Ireland
Silver Medal: Edinburgh, Scotland
GOLD Medal: London, England

Clean glasses and good ale are as revealing as counting rings in tree trunks. Here, you can see that it took 15 individual drinks to consume this pint.

Having said all of this, I consider myself fortunate to live in a part of the U.S. where good craft beer is produced and consumed by people with the same approach to ale as me. Even during tough economic times I've heard of very few microbreweries and brewpubs that are closing their doors. Quite the contrary in fact. I can hardly wait to see how good things get when times get better.

UK & Ireland Trip Part Seven: Back to London

2010-10-26T17:13:00.000-07:00

We said goodbye to Scotland (for now) on the morning of September 26th, taking the train to London via a change at a small station in the town of Crewe in central England. We were staying once again at the Jesmond Hotel only this time we had a larger room and a private bath. It set us back around 20 more pounds per night but at this last stage of the trip it was well worth it.

Stop the Presses: There's Bowling in London!

After a relaxing night that included a burger at a nearby pub (washed down with the obligatory cask bitter of course) we were back at it the next morning, taking the Tube to The Victoria and Albert Museum. This place, although not nearly as famous as the British Museum and is around twice as big. There were a variety of things to see over the four hours we allotted for this visit: displays of clothing and fashion through the years, glass collections, jewelry, modern art, and casting of well-known creations such as Michelangelo's David. Well worth a visit and all they ask for at the door is a small donation.

Leaving the museum we took a stroll around The R oyal Albert Hall and on to Hyde Park, London's version of New York's Central Park. For lunch we found a nice place that served up a ploughman's cheese sandwich with some good chutney. We walked through the upscale shopping district along Oxford Street before heading back to the B&B for a pre-dinner rest. Dinner itself may not have been the best choice. We were bound to have found a somewhat pretentious overpriced place to eat. We found it at The Coach and Horses. But it looked like a down-to-earth pub from the outside.

One of Tens of Thousands of Displays at the V&A Museum

On our last full day in London, we took the Tube to Piccadilly Circus and strolled through Trafalgar Square, Soho (where I was nearly run over by a motorbike), Chinatown, and the Theatre District. This walk can easily be done in a couple of hours. Sensing it was time for an ale break, we headed to Brew Wharf on the River Thames, a rare London microbrewery. We enjoyed a pint of Monkey's Head Red Ale, brewed with rye. This was a great hoppy effort and would score high on the brew-o-meter of the Pacific Northwest.

The last big "event" of the vacation would be a tour of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre followed by a live performance of "The Merry Wives of Windsor". This theater was constructed in 1997 and is a replica of the original Globe that was destroyed by fire in 1613. The new structure was designed using as many of the original plans, materials and building techniques as possible. The play was excellent and an appropriate way to conclude our three week journey.

The next morning it was off to London Heathrow with our belongings and our memories to board an Air Canada Boeing 777 for the long flight home. This was my first flight on a 777, a program I supported for so many years at Boeing.

The Impeccable Globe Theatre

A few random thoughts as the plane sat on the runway getting ready for takeoff:

* Forget Alice's Restaurant, you can get anything you want in London. The whole world has gathered there (and they get along!)

* The cab drivers in Dublin didn't seem to know their own street locations when we told them where we wanted to go. They all had to plug it into GPS.

* The word "scheme" simply means "plan" over here. There are no evil connotations.

* A car wreck is called a "smash".

* Black gas pump handles are for diesel, green for regular unleaded. The opposite of the U.S.

* Bring change to the train stations. It costs the equivalent of 40-60 cents to use the bathroom

* Relax, ATMs are everywhere. And they don't charge a service fee (although your bank may).

* Afternoon television in England is dominated by "Judge Judy", reruns of "Friends" and even older reruns of "Ironside". Huh??? Ironside???

Finally, I hope that everyone who would like to do so can be able to visit somewhere on the other side of the Atlantic at some point in their lives. There truly is an abundance to see, do and learn. Too many Americans think that they live in the only country in the world, or at least the only one that matters. The locals we encountered certainly were welcoming to us as Americans. But at the same time I don't think they'd be in a hurry to swap passports with me and leave their lives behind.

Having a bit of a sense of adventure has its rewards. We're grateful we are healthy and lucky enough to have been able to walk at least 4 miles a day in the countryside and the cities of the United Kingdom & Ireland, as well as make connections on all of the planes, trains, buses, taxis, and subways. Seeing the region mainly through a window with a few rest stops just wouldn't have been the same. Perhaps someday we may have to. But we're not ready for that. Not now.

A Couple of Final Week Three Memories of London

The next trip of this magnitude may be a few years away, but in the meantime the ideas have already started to churn.

UK & Ireland Trip Part Six: Scotland

2010-10-23T19:36:00.000-07:00

My late uncle, Earl Clark, once told me after a vacation in Scotland that he felt like he was going home. I was excited to be finally going there myself. Our last name is quite popular in Scotland and although we don't technically have our own clan, we're a sept to the Cameron and MacPherson clans of the Highlands.

Our day started early as we walked the mile to downtown Belfast with our luggage in tow heading for the bus station. From there it was a short ride to the Belfast ferry terminal and the boat, Stena Lines' Voyager, that would deposit us on Scottish soil. Then it was on another bus for a three hour ride to Edinburgh. No worries as I dialed up some John Marytn songs on my iPod and enjoyed the lovely countryside of "home".

Scottish Breakfast With Haggis (Darker Patty at Left)

We went through the town of Ayr which looked from the bus window like it would be a great place to explore. The bus stopped in the city of Glasgow. Glasgow looked interesting but not interesting enough to warrant a day trip on the train that week. Its outskirts looked modern with newer plazas, malls and theaters. When we got to town, it reminded me of the view one gets of certain unpleasant parts of Philadelphia. Al Stewart's family was smart to move from Glasgow to England after the war.

Arriving at the bus station in Edinburgh, we took a cab to our Bed and Breakfast, The A-Haven Guesthouse, which was actually in the town of Leith, a few miles away and a short bus ride from the city. It's all urban and you really can't tell where one city starts and the other ends. We had just enough daylight left to explore Leith a bit and get some dinner. One of the locals told us about a place called The King's Wark that was voted Best Pub Food in 2010. We each had the most amazing cottage pie ever and washed it down with a McEwan's Ale. When in Scotland, you've gotta start with the national brand.

The Majestic Edinburgh Castle

Speaking of national brands, the next morning it was time to conquer a food that most Americans find utterly repulsive: Yes, haggis. And the Scots eat it up like we eat corn dogs at the fair. Haggis is a dish that contains sheep's 'pluck' (heart, liver and lungs), minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally simmered in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours. Now you're getting the idea why it's somewhat unpopular in the U.S. It came with breakfast in the form of what looked like a dark, softer sausage patty. It was also somewhat spicy, no doubt to mask some of the stuff that's in there. But you know...it really wasn't half bad. Of course it wasn't half good either.

Fueled by haggis (which BowlingWidow wanted nothing to do with) we rode the bus into the city and hiked to Edinburgh Castle. And it was raining. Hard. The castle sits majestically on the hill of an extinct volcano and dominates Edinburgh's skyline. There are several things to see here including The Great Hall, Royal Palace, Chapel, Crown Square and The Scottish National War Memorial.

The View From Stirling Castle

When we left the castle in the rain we started walking The Royal Mile. This is a stretch between the castle and Palace of Holyroodhouse that is the main street of Old Edinburgh. It's filled with shops, pubs and restaurants, and with the steady rain it was an easy decision to duck into a pub or two to stay dry. When we got to the end of the mile we decided to visit the Palace and were glad we did. The audio tour was excellent, and this is actually a functioning palace to this day. It's where the Queen of England and her entourage put their stakes in the ground for a couple of visits each year.

Later on that evening we enjoyed another pub crawl. This time with a literary theme, as two actors engaged in whimsical debate assuming the roles of native sons Robert Burns, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Sir Walter Scott. One of the actors *really* got into the mood by consuming at least four pints of ale and a glass of whisky along the way. Not wanting to search for Bus #11 in the rain, we opted to take a taxi home for the night.

Edinburgh's Royal Mile

Next morning's breakfast: porridge. Much easier to deal with than haggis. We took the train from Waverly Station to the town of Stirling (pop. 40,000) to check out the Stirling Castle. We noticed the country on the train and it reminded us a bit of Washington State, specifically at the base of the Cascades in Eastern Washington where the town of Cle Elum is.

We took a short hike uphill to the castle. Like Edinburgh's, Stirling Castle is not huge. It has a lot of the same kinds of rooms and designs and is noted for being Mary Queen of Scots' favorite residence. Unfortunately we didn't get to see the Royal Palace on the grounds, as it's being renovated with a targeted completion year of 2013.

Back in Edinburgh, we walked into the greatest pub of all time. It's called The Oxford and well off the beaten path. The bar itself is small, as is the adjoining room which looks like a living room, has old wood furniture and a fireplace. Next to us were three old Scots who were having a discussion on religion and politics. And it was a CIVIL discussion, unlike the ones we see more and more of on television that deteriorate into shouting and name-calling. As my uncle said, I truly felt at home that moment..and then one of the old guys' cell phone went off and pub perfection was broken up like a no-hitter in the ninth inning.

View of Edinburgh from the Walter Scott Tower

For our final full day in Scotland, it was our second all-day bus excursion, this time to visit the Highlands. The Highlands cover a lot of acreage so the tour didn't go nearly as far as...say, Inverness. But we managed to take in and walk through a lot of gorgeous scenery that included hills, rivers, trees and trails. True, Scottish Highlands include a lot of rolling hills that have been nibbled to the earth by livestock, but there's also a considerable amount of territory that's comparable to what we have here in the Pacific Northwest. And yes, they do have a small logging industry although the trees are generally smaller.

The Scottish Highlands: More Green Than Many of Us Think

Dewar's World of Whisky (the Scots spell the word without the "e") happened to be on the way back to Edinburgh, so why wouldn't the bus stop there? We took a quick tour and consumed a couple of samples. We're not whisky (or whiskey) drinkers so learned that the difference between Irish and Scotch whisky is that Irish is triple distilled with no smoky, peat flavor used while the Scotch is double distilled and has the smoky flavor. I'm not sure which I'd prefer but BowlingWidow goes to the Irish side of things.

Back at the B&B for our last night, we were jarred by what sounded like fireworks at around 10 pm. My first thought that the English were declaring war on Scotland (again) and that bombing had commenced. The next morning we were assured by our host that it was just a celebration aboard a ship at Leith Harbor. I finished my haggis and we got ready for the train trip that would take us back to London for the final time.

Next: London Redux

UK & Ireland Trip Part Five: Belfast

2010-10-20T18:50:00.000-07:00

In my youth, whenever I heard the word “Belfast” on the news it was usually preceded by adjectives such as “divided” or “war torn”. We were looking forward to this leg of the trip to check out Belfast first-hand since the civil unrest that has taken place there is still firmly lodged in the memories of many of its residents. Some even have bullets still firmly lodged in their bodies.

But to get to Belfast, we needed to get up fairly early, drive the car across the Republic of Ireland, drop it back at Budget, catch a taxi to Connolly train station (we were very thankful that taxis were everywhere throughout the trip when we needed them), and ride the train into Northe rn Ireland’s largest city.

Downtown Belfast, Northern Ireland

The train was an easy 2.5 hours that seemed even faster due to a nice conversation we had with some folks across the aisle. Frank was born in Ireland and moved to Washington D.C. many years ago where he met his wife. They were doing some traveling after attending a family wedding. He just, in fact, became a U.S. Citizen. We talked about a lot of things, including rugby and what all of those guys are doing in that pile during the “scrum”. Turns out that rugby actually has rules. All this time, I thought it was just a form of Greco-Roman wrestling.

Rural Northern Ireland

When we arrived we took a taxi to the B&B, since we had no idea which direction it was. We unloaded our stuff for the brief two night stay, went out for a quick sandwich, and arranged for a 1 1/2 hour private taxi tour of the city of Belfast.

After we got into the back seat of the cab, we realized that we had a major problem with communication. We had no idea what the cab driver was saying most of the time. I thought the Scots were the ones with the verbal delivery that Americans couldn’t understand? Seriously, we could have understood Ozzy Osbourne on a bad night much better. But onward we went…

Downtown Belfast is clearly a mix of old and new when it comes to buildings. Some, such as City Hall, have been preserved and gotten facelifts over the years. Others have obviously come back to life as a new structure after one too many hits by a well-placed bomb or two during the tough times.

Loyalist Mural at Sandy Row

We visited the shipyard where The T itanic was built (a very large hole) and moved on to check out the Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods where The Troubles took place. The Protestant (or Loyalist) neighborhoods are called Shankill and Sandy Row, while Catholics predominately occupy The Falls. Murals abound in both but most of the bitter emotions reside in The Falls. Our taxi driver was clearly Catholic. He said so in no uncertain terms and that was confirmed when at one point he referred to William of Orange as “that little faggot” (one of the only things he said that we understood).

Mural in the Catholic Falls Street Area

There are plenty of resources and even some movies that cover the detailed history of the “Troubles” so I’m not going to attempt to tackle that. Northern Ireland officially became a division of the United Kingdom in 1921, while the rest of the island is the independent Republic of Ireland. This arrangement did not set well with everyone. The nationalists (predominately Catholics from the Republic) didn’t particularly like the fact that the unionists (predominately Protestants from the UK) occupied the north of what they deemed to be theirs. High levels of violence continued regularly through 1998 when The Good Friday A greement was signed.

Still, the sense we got from talking to our driver (when we could understand him anyway) and locals is that tension between Republicans and Loyalists still exist. This is evidenced by much of the street art, graffiti and murals (although increasingly they’re being drawn with messages of peace). Conway Street in between the two neighborhoods closes at 10:00 pm each night in fear of isolated dust ups. The conflicts are attributable to politics and economics, however the only real violence that happens anymore usually does so around July 12th of each year, at the time of the annual Orange Walk series of parades through town, a British time of celebrating past victories.

BowlingJoe: Northern Ireland's Newest Whiskey Drinker

After the taxi ride, it was time for a pre-dinner ale. We chose to visit the elegant and well-preserved Crown Liquor Saloon downtown. Built in 1849 and full of mahogany, smoked glass, and a marble bar, this establishment is owned by The National Trust. We especially liked the little private seating booth areas called “snugs” complete with their own little door.

For dinner it was the Morning Star Pub & Resta urant where BowlingWidow satisfied her pasta craving and I went with Roast Chicken with Champ (mashed potatoes, scallions, gravy). Afterwards, we walked back to the B&B past the old Queens University where rowdy freshman seemed to own the streets and nightlife.

BowlingWidow Preparing to Risk Her Life on the Rope Bridge

The next morning was our first of two day-long bus tours. Since we didn’t want to rent a car again we thought this would be the best way to get around and see some of the sights north of Belfast. Our first stop was Carrickfergus Castle where we roamed the grounds for a short time. Next it was off to Ballycastle to hike to a rope bridge and check out some amazing scenery.

Inexplicably, we made a couple of more stops en route to our next destination. We figured it out: smoke breaks. The bus drivers need smoke breaks! Finally, we stopped for lunch and soon visited The Old Bushmill’s Irish whiskey distillery. Not enough time for a full tour but we did get to visit the museum, gift shop, and sample a shot of the product. BowlingWidow had a hot toddy which she really enjoyed. Uh oh. I think I may have to make a few toddies for her this winter. As we left the Bushmill’s parking lot, we noticed a Bloodmobile in the parking lot. Some photo ops are simply handed to you.

Whiskey and Blood Drawing: Two Things Made for Each Other

The bus continued to The G iants Causeway, a display of 40,000 rock columns on the north coast that happened naturally as a result of volcanic activity. We spent some time roaming and climbing on these structures and even doing a yoga balance pose or two for good measure. The Causeway was the last true stop we made during the day and we only stopped for a quick picture or two of Dunluce Castle from a distance on the way back to Belfast.

To end the evening we walked from Belfast to our B&B, stopping at a pub called Auntie Annie’s for some snacks and one final Guinness before we were to leave Ireland for Scotland the next morning.

The Giant's Causeway: 40,000 Weird Volcanic Rocks

Next: Edinburgh and the Scottish Highlands

UK & Ireland Trip Part Four: Galway

2010-10-17T10:11:00.000-07:00

Galway, Ireland is a vibrant city of around 70,000 people and the third largest in the Republic. We chose to visit because of its reputation as a city with a great pub and street music scene and a place that generally embraces the arts. Besides, it was midway through our vacation and we needed a visit to a place where we could do some laundry, relax and wander aimlessly. So that's what we did.

Bangers & Mash: Do Not Attempt if Counting Calories

Upon checking into the Balcony House B&B and meeting our hostess, Teresa, we took the 10 minute walk into town. We were hungry and ate at the first pub we saw, called Murty Rabbitt's. I had the hearty bangers and mash dish while BowlingWidow went with the traditional Cottage Pie. It was there that I also had my first Beamish Stout of the trip. To walk off the dinner we headed to the central part of town and Eyre Square.

Strolling Through Downtown Galway

The next morning we snuck into a small table at the B&B dining room. The room was full of Americans. Socializing with Americans: not high on our list of things to do in the UK and Ireland. It was a drizzly morning with the kind of weather that must have inspired Graham Nash to write "Cold Rain". The perfect weather to take a load of laundry to the Laundromat.

Because we're not night owls we went looking for an afternoon session of traditional music at a downtown pub, and found one at Tig Coili. Very crowded but most enjoyable. One thing to like about these sessions is that you can still have a conversation with the music going on. They don't play particularly loud, as is the case in a lot of American bars.

One of Many Bookstores in Galway

After a day and night of kicking around town, we got up and took a short drive to the village of Cong, around 25 miles north of Galway. We visited the grounds of Ashford Castle, which dates back to the 12th century and is now a very, very, very pricey hotel. Looking like the riff-raff that nobody wants in their palace, we didn't go inside. Instead we headed to the heart of the town and walked through the ruins of the Cong Abbey (which dates back to the 7th century) and its cemetery.

Back at Galway, we took in a bit of sports culture, watching a football (soccer) match at Monroe's Pub with a house full of crazed young fans who scream every bit as loud as we do for our football and then some. Going back and forth between the bar and our table, I was very cautious to insure that I didn't irritate the masses by blocking their view of the big screen TV. By the way it was Manchester United 3 and Liverpool 2, much to the delight of the partisan Manchester U crowd.

What's left of the Cong Abbey: 1,300 Years Old

After the game we wandered to a Spanish (yes, Spanish) restaurant called Cava to catch an American (yes, American) folk music show. Oddly and coincidentally our friend Dave Nachmanoff's sometimes bass player Mike Lindauer was performing with Buddy Mondlock. We had never met him but after the show said hello, made a connection and snapped a photo to send to Dave.

This was our last night in Galway and poor BowlingWidow was still battling a cold and elected to get some rest. I found a pub that had some live NFL Football that started at 6:00pm local time (10:00am Pacific Coast time). I ended up sitting at the bar next to a jolly, but quite inebriated, local man who chatted me up. When I told him I was from the Seattle area he said that he hasn't been there but has been to "Saffrasisco".

Watching soccer at Monroe's Pub With "The Lads"

After that stellar moment, it was time to go to bed. We had a 6:15am alarm to respond to, and many miles to cover that day, on our way to Belfast.

Next: Belfast, Northern Ireland

UK & Ireland Trip Part Three: Kenmare and Western Ireland

2010-10-12T18:53:00.000-07:00

Was he or was he not? That was the question on the news, as we woke up on September 15th, regarding the sobriety of Irish Prime Minister (called a Taoiseach - pronounced "Tee-Shock") Brian Cowen. Apparently the night before, the big fella was burning the candle till about 3:30am singing, doing impressions and downing who knows how many pints of Guinness. Not the smartest move when you have a live morning interview scheduled on national television. But, in the words of the Dublin cab driver who drove us to Budget to pick up our rental car, "give him a break, everyone needs a night out."

The Nissan Micra and BowlingWidow Pose in Front of the Kenmare B&B

We picked up our Nissan Micra, loaded it with our stuff and prepared for the trip to rural western Ireland. I had driven a small manual transmission Peugeot (a true piece of s**t) in England 25 years ago. Could I recapture the magic of sitting in the right seat and driving on the left side of the road once again? Let's just say that in my zeal to get on the road and out of crazy Dublin I immediately drove over a curb, scraping the undercarriage of the vehicle. A tough start but I did pay for wall to wall insurance a few minutes earlier. No harm, no foul this time. Renting a car in Ireland ain't cheap when you add it all up. Around 400 Euros for a week (over $500) but that's the going rate if you want to see anything on the coast without slogging around in a tour bus for days. Autonomy has its price.

After figuring out the exit system that leaves Dublin (pretty much what we'd call a beltway around here) we were on our way cruising at 120 kilometers per hour. We decided to stop for a water and snack break in a little town that's smack in the middle of the country, called Roscrea (pop. 5000). This was a pleasant find, with a castle that dates back to the 13th century. We wished we had more time to roam around this heritage town.

Roscrea: Scenic Little Town in the Middle of Ireland

Later in the day we made a wrong turn (or two) and ended up paying 6 Euros on toll roads that we never really needed to take. We shrugged off the mistake that cost us 45 minutes and moved on south to a town called Adare (pop. 2500), which is just to the south of the larger city of Limerick. Judging by the amount of traffic here, this was clearly a place where a lot of tourists like to stop. And once we passed a row of thatched roof cottages and restaurants, BowlingWidow wanted to take our late lunch break here. When it comes to "thatched roofs","cottages", "villages", "cobblestones"...you get the idea, she needs to be a part of it.

BowlingWidow Checking Out an Adare Thatched Roof

As we approached our destination of Kenmare, the roads became narrower and more challenging to navigate. Despite the beating that our left rearview mirror was taking from the vegetation that hung over the road, I was still up to the task. Let me stop here and say this about the roads of this part of Ireland: they almost always have a speed limit of 100 kph. That's around 60 mph. Seriously, you have NO BUSINESS driving even half that fast on these roads unless your last name is Earnhardt, Foyt, or Andretti. What are the Irish thinking???

We got to Kenmare (pop. 2000) tired but in good shape. I had no idea how to find the B&B as it was a short drive from town. Finally, I figured out how to use the Verizon Global Phone that we got for such instances and reached Sheila, our hostess, who managed to get us to Forgefield House without sending us tumbling into a sheep pasture. Sheila and her husband said that we were the last guests of the year for them and rewarded us with a spacious room with hardwood floors upstairs and an incredible view of the rural property.

Rested up, we headed for dinner at P.F. McCarthy's Pub in town where we enjoyed pizza and a pint of locally produced ale called Kenmare appropriately enough. This was the first microbrew we had on the trip and have to admit that, while it was a decent effort, what we brew in Washington and Oregon is superior. At precisely 7:15 pm local time, just after a nice slice of highly caloric pizza, my group exercise session back at home was starting at 11:15 am. Ha!

A Typical "Superhighway" in Western Ireland

The next day we saw a road sign that said something like this: "Drive Carefully: 52 people have died on the roads of County Kerry in the last four years". That's probably the truth. And I'm also betting that 46 of them were Americans whose last thought had to do with why those insane people are driving on the wrong side of the road.

Yes, it's on to the Ring of Kerry. A seemingly short and breathtakingly scenic drive of around 100 miles that in reality takes most of the day. And that's the biggest misunderstanding about driving in Ireland. What you need to do is estimate how long it will take you to get from point A to point B with a handful of stops along the way, double it and add an additional hour. Yes, even more if you wander off to visit an ancient stone circle or two as we did (Staigue Stone Fort).

Some Classic Irish Scenery on The Ring of Kerry

If you find yourself driving the Ring of Kerry, leave early and go a clockwise route to avoid being stuck behind tour buses. That's one of the many bits of great advice we got from Rick Steves' Ireland book. Another is to build in time to take the Skellig Ring within the drive. This consists of an even smaller road, but has the added advantage of not allowing tour buses or motor homes on the loop. Plus you'll be able to get one of the highest and most stellar views of the green rolling hills, cliffs, and other landscape by doing so.

BowlingJoe's Amazing Find: Way Better Than The Blarney Stone

Back in Kenmare via the Valentia Island car ferry, we had a Murphy's Stout (Finally something other than Guinness!), ordered some fish & chips, and caught some live traditional Irish music back at McCarthy's.

We left Kenmare the next day with the town of Galway the being the next stop for a few days. On the way, we took another short ferry ride (that holds 50 cars) from Tarbert to Killimer that spans the mouth of The River Shannon. Towns seemed to be few and far between on this stretch so we stopped at a place called Milltown Malbay for lunch. Malbay is obviously suffering the effects of the recession, as many places in Ireland are. Every other shop or restaurant was closed down, and this once-thriving place near the water reminded me somewhat of the state my hometown of Port Angeles is in these days.

Our final pre-Galway stop was at the famous Cliffs of Moher. Five miles of 700 foot cliffs caused my massive erosion. Again, amazing view and watching birds fly several hundred feet below us was a bit freakish. The cliffs were impressive, but my vote for best natural vast expanse of scenery that I've been to would still have to go to our Grand Canyon.

The Scenic Cliffs of Moher

We made our way through the rolling hills (and some really large ones at that) of what is known as The Burren. This is the rock-filled Ireland with stone walls that seemingly stretch for miles to keep sheep and cattle from wandering off. The Burren is not a lush green like The Ring of Kerry was but it spectacular in its own hilly and rugged way.

Next: Galway, Ireland

UK & Ireland Trip Part Two: Dublin

2010-10-06T18:54:00.000-07:00

BowlingWidow and I woke up on September 12th in Holyhead, Wales which was a good thing since that's where we went to sleep the night before. Plenty of time for an English Breakfast before we boarded the Stella Lines ferry to Dun Laoghaire, the small town where we stayed 8 miles south (and a short commuter train ride) of Dublin. From a quality perspective, the boat was somewhere in between our Washington State Ferries and a small cruise ship. It was a comfortable two-hour ride across the Irish Sea.

Sunday Market in Dun Laoghaire

We took a cab to Lynden B&B, although in reality we could have walked it. Upon checking in, we noticed that one of the stereotypical things we had heard about the Irish was coming to fruition: they do enjoy chatting you up. The friendly owner welcomed us and gave us a brief history of Ireland for 20 minutes before giving us our rickety old skeleton key to the room.

We headed off to lunch and found a place that had a nice roast beef carvery going for it, and along with some potatoes and vegetables, recorded the first of many pints of Guinness in Ireland (speaking strictly of myself here of course). As luck would have it, we found a nice Sunday market to stroll around and burn off some calories.

It was time board the DART train and conquer Dublin for the first time. Our initial impression of Dublin is that it's a grittier and more working class city than London is, although it's got every bit of the history (especially literary history) that London does and perhaps then some. The infrastructure is more worn down and its downtown workers are far less apt to wear a tie than in London.

Dining Room at the Lynden Bed and Breakfast

This takes us to the next two words: pub crawl! The theme of this particular crawl was Traditional Irish Music, as two talented musicians led us around Dublin's Temple Bar area (Temple Bar is to Dublin what The French Quarter is to New Orleans - or what Pioneer Square WANTS to be to Seattle). They performed at three different pubs in two hours, beginning at a place called John Gogarty's Pub, named after a local poet and author. This was a whole lotta fun as we had the pleasure of listening to instruments such as the fiddle and bodhran. When it was over, we had no idea where we were relative to the train station in the black night, so we took a cab to Pearse Station and hopped the DART back home.

Monday morning we made our way downstairs to enjoy a nice Irish Breakfast made by our hostess Maria. This consisted of eggs, sausage, bacon, porridge and...yes...blood pudding. We put the brakes on when it came to the blood pudding. Any dish with the name "blood" in it is guaranteed not to make the culinary cut on our list.

Dublin Traditional Music Pub Crawl Scene

Back to Dublin, this was a big sightseeing day for us. We visited Trinity College (founded in 1592) and took the informative hour-long tour given by one of the witty students. Trinity is where the famous Book of Kells is at, so we couldn't resist a glance. Next door is the almost-as-well-known Long Library Room with its two story high shelves of books, most of which were obviously bound a REALLY long time ago. For any library employees reading this, Bowling Widow wants to add that they shelve the books by size: big books on the bottom and small books on top.

Hungry for lunch, we stopped for a sandwich at the Stag's Head. This is a well preserved pub that was built in 1770 and contains a great deal of Victorian mirrors for some reason. Speaking of pubs, while I'm planning on devoting a blog post exclusively to "all things pub" (since much time on this vacation was devoted to the solid and painstaking research pertaining to what happens in a pub) but I do want to note one of the two best pub environments we encountered in the UK. If you are in Dublin, you *must* go to the Central Hotel Library Bar. There are no signs that will point you there. No advertisements. You probably won't find it in you guide book. Click on the hyperlink and check it out. Comfy, classy chairs and furniture. A delightful little bar in the corner. In short, a great place to take a rest from walking the streets of Dublin.

Street in the Temple Bar District of Dublin

Refueled, it was on to visit Dublin Castle a short walk away and the site of too many historical moments to mention (including some 20th century excitement) in this post. After the Castle, we crossed the Liffey River to the north into old town Dublin. And old town is quite a fitting description, we thought, as we walked along the quay. It has its own unique character but is definitely not the Dublin you'll see on the postcards.

It was nearing the end of a long day, so we thought it best just to stop at our new favorite place, Marks and Spencer, to get a wrap and a sandwich to go and eat them at the B&B that night.

September 14th would be our last full day in Dublin. It was also the exact date of our 25th anniversary and we awoke to howling wind and rain outside our window. Was it a sign? Nah, it didn't last and it turned out to be a fine day, although it did mark the end of seven straight days without any significant rain on this trip.

Back in Dublin, we took a long walk to Kilmainham Gaol (jail). This jail, now a local attraction, was built in 1796 making it a new building compared to most we had been in. This was prison for both debtors and those of the political variety. Many executions of Irish Republic leaders by the hands of the British took place within the walls of the jail. After looking at some of the cells and comparing it to a similar visit we made to Alcatraz Island in San Francisco, we had to admit that relatively, Alcatraz would have been like staying at The Westin. At least in Alcatraz you got a bed and a hole for a toilet. At Kilmainham you slept on the floor and were issued a bucket that you did everything in - including eating out of. On a positive note though, I do need to point out that the size of the prison cells are actually larger than our B&B room at The Jesmond in London.

BowlingJoe: Dwarfed by the Gates of Guinness

And now for something completely different: The Guinness Storehouse. No trip to Dublin is complete without this. The Storehouse is not to be confused with the actual brewery. We aren't allowed in there. But the Storehouse did have some very nice artifacts of Guinness history both old and new that were there for perusal. The top floor of the Storehouse is The Gravity Bar where the black stuff can be consumed to sweeping views of the city. And, of course, we had to go to their huge gift shop for a few souvenirs that included some glasses and shirts.

View of Dublin from the Guinness Gravity Bar

On Wednesday it was time to say goodbye to Dublin and enjoyed one last Irish breakfast with a few others staying at the B&B. We realized that over the last three mornings we sat at tables with visitors from the Czech Republic, France, and Poland, respectively. And the conversations (or attempts at conversations) that ensue as a result are one of the things that makes travel what it is.

Next blog: the challenge of renting a car in Ireland and driving on the wrong side of their skinny little roads. Did we live through the experience? I'm not telling. Stay tuned.

UK & Ireland Trip Part One: London (with a dash of Wales)

2010-10-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

In September of 1985, 25 years ago, BowlingWidow and I were married and spent our honeymoon in London and Northern England around the Lake District. At the time, I was a travel agent. It was kind of a strange gig. One would get to visit some nice places, compliments of airlines, hotels and other travel-related companies. But then when the clock struck midnight it was back home to buy ramen noodle packs at 10 for a dollar. Travel agents didn’t fare too well in the pay department.

For our 25^th anniversary we decided to up the ante. Three weeks of vacation time in which we’d give London another look, Wales (briefly), Ireland, Scotland and back to London again.

At the time we bought our tickets, the least expensive purchase was to fly from Seattle to Vancouver BC on a small regional flight and then on to London nonstop on an Air Canada jet (Boeing products, of course) for close to 9 hours. Great flight (except for the obligatory turbulence) with no screaming children on board.

Arriving at around 2:00pm the following day, we took the famous London Underground (or “Tube”) from London Heathrow Airport to the Russell Square station on the Piccadilly Line. About a 6 pound ride with a few “milk run” stops but took only around 45 minutes, not much longer than a taxi would have. The tube is a giant spider’s web of a system and it’s surprisingly easy to move about the city at a reasonable cost.

Room at The Jesmond: Just Like Being Back at College

We booked Bed and Breakfasts for the entire trip and our first experience at the Jesmond Hotel would be the most spartan and we knew it. All that was available would be a walk-in-closet sized room with a sink and two small twin beds. Very romantic in a prison cell sort of way. The shower? It consisted of a tiny room upstairs (shared with a few other rooms) and was so touchy that one false dial adjustment resulted in a memorable scalding.

Our first meal and cask conditioned ales were in a pub (gee, what a surprise) called Mortimer Arms that was a few blocks from the B&B. We indulged in some excellent Thai food along with pints of Black Sheep Bitter.

Our first official “event” involved heading to the U.S. Embassy to pick up some passes to watch The House of Commons in session at their Parliament buildings. After some bureaucratic confusion (they’re apparently as good as we are in this country about that) we secured them. Fortunately the nice man with the machine gun standing at the Embassy door didn’t have to swing into action.

Beans: it's what's for breakfast, English style

The British House of Commons is as much about theater as it is getting anything done. Unlike our Congressional speeches, there’s a great deal of back and forth dialogue that takes place, and some resulting attempts at “one-upmanship”. The topic of that day was agricultural issues. Not particularly exciting but it was enjoyable for us Yanks to show up and watch the proceedings.

Looking toward NE London across the beautiful brown Thames

Next it was on to the British Museum. This houses the largest collection of artifacts and items in the world that have nothing to do with Great Britain. Seven million items in fact. If it’s ancient, it’s in there. And I do believe that we saw more vases than exist in all of the Pier One Imports stores combined.

Dinner on our first full night? Quite possibly the best East Indian food we’ve ever had. London is a gold mine of great restaurants given that 300 different languages are heard among its population of 7.2 million. The place in question is a tiny place on Cleveland Street called Olive’s Indian. Complex and spicy chicken curry at more than affordable prices.

BowlingWidow on the spiral staircase of The Momument

Some other highlights of the first leg of the trip included climbing 311 spiral stairs to the top of The Monument for some great panoramic pictures. This is (yet another) structure designed by Christopher Wren as a tribute to rebuilding after the Great Fire of London in 1666.

We also paid a visit to The Borough Market on the banks of the Thames River (which has remained the glorious brown color that we remembered it being in 1985). This market reminded us of our Pike Place Market in Seattle only it was totally devoted to food. Fruit, vegetables, cheeses, prepared ethnic food and so on. No cheap trinkets or touristy gifts here.

Marks and Spencer: Red Wine To Go!

London is a great town to walk around, and we did plenty of sightseeing from its streets. We saw things that ranged from Westminster Abbey to the tiny flat that Samuel Johnson once lived in. And if you want to see St. Paul’s Cathedral for free, here’s a tip: Every day at 5:00pm, they have a choir performance called Evensong in which non-members of the church are invited to come in and have a listen.

Another tip? Three words: Marks and Spencer. This is essentially a department store chain with a grocery section and food court (usually at the bottom floor). Every town of a decent size has one, and we would grab pre-made sandwiches, pasta salads and other goodies to stuff into our backpacks when we didn’t have the time to or desire for sit-down meal. They even have sealed plastic “glasses” containing red wine for that perfect picnic. Why this concept hasn’t caught on in the United States is beyond us.

Rainbow Over Holyhead, Wales

In London, we took the train from Euston Station to Holyhead, Wales. Schedule-wise, it was best to overnight in Wales so that we could catch a ferry boat across the Irish Sea to Dun Laoghaire (“Leary”) and Dublin the next day. The B&B at Holyhead was a decent walk in the rain from the train station and fit our needs just right. We were also rewarded with a rainbow and an excellent Cornish pasty at a local pub on that Saturday night.

Next blog: Part Two. Dublin, Ireland

UK and Ireland Bound

2010-09-06T18:46:00.000-07:00

Blogging has been slow lately. And it will even be slower over the next few weeks. But wait till October. I'll be posting a lot. Ad nauseum, in fact. Three weeks in the United Kingdom and Ireland will tend to bring that out.

It's BowlingWidow and my 25th wedding anniversary and we're doing it up right. Stay tuned for words and pictures. I have a journal, a camera, and I'm not afraid to use either one to their fullest extent.

Bob's Your Uncle,

Bowling Joe

Sunday Afternoon at the Ballpark

2010-08-14T20:50:00.000-07:00

There's just something about being at the ballpark, even if it's to watch the once mighty, but currently hapless Seattle Mariners. And here's another thing I don't mind doing: going alone. Particularly if it's on a nice Sunday afternoon when I can take the Sounder train to and from the game. Here are some reasons why:

The Sounder Train: All Aboard to Safeco Field

1. You can walk around the entire perimeter of the first level of Safeco Field and see the game. Camp behind the plate for a while? No problem. Like the view from center field? Can do.

2. There are lots of things to see there besides baseball, and you can do it on your own schedule without worrying that whoever you're with is disinterested. I like to check out all of the different items on the menu, even though due to calorie counting and price I rarely buy the stuff. There's also a nice little "museum" tucked away with artifacts from years gone by, including items associated with the Seattle Rainiers and Seattle Pilots.

3. My grandfather is there. Well, not really. But when they were building Safeco Field in the 1990s, my mother and I bought a commemorative brick with the name "Walter E. Nygren" engraved on it. He's next to the Mariner bullpen and it's a fitting tribute to the memory of one of the great sports fans of all time.

The Brick: A Tribute to My Grandfather

4. Boring game? There's no ten-run rule in the majors so if it's a blowout the game goes on and on and on. I can and have felt free to simply up and leave. Killing time at Uwajimaya in the International District while waiting for the train (which departs 40 minutes after the game ends) is always a good idea.

Last Sunday, in fact, worked out quite nicely. The trains ran on time (Mussolini would have been proud even though he never really did make the trains run on time), it was a reasonably nice day, the rolling carport roof of Safeco Field was open, and it was a well-played game.

A glimpse of the Safeco Field "Museum"

I find it interesting to watch the ebb and flow of what goes on there. And I'm not just talking about the third base coach signaling the batter to lay down a sacrifice bunt. Thousands of conversations are taking place amongst the fans. Vendors are in motion trying to earn a buck and tossing bags of peanuts around like beanbags. Alcohol enforcement workers are on the move. A baseball stadium is simply a great place to walk around and observe.

A great day to hang out in the outfield bleachers

Oh yeah, the score was Seattle 3 and Kansas City 2. But who really cares in the big scheme of things?

Five-Pin Bowling in Canada, eh?

2010-07-11T10:56:00.000-07:00

Nothing speaks to the celebration of United States Independence Day like leaving the country. I have nothing against the holiday in and of itself, but being in the middle of fireworks "ground zero" every year has gotten really old. Not to even make mention of the semi-literate morons who have no qualms about lighting anything that makes a loud noise for a week on either side of the fourth, regardless of what time of day or night it is. And North Snohomish County has far more than their fair share of these Rhodes Scholars roaming the streets like zombies.

The view from the bridge: Granville Island

Last year we headed to Tacoma, a surprisingly wonderful experience. This year it was Amtrak to Vancouver, Canada for two nights. Vancouver has become one of our favorite destinations. It's a very multi-cultural place with an exceptional downtown vibe. Officially, more than 70-thousand people live downtown and at any given time it seems like 30-thousand of them are out walking their dogs, riding their bikes, or engaging in actual exercise that half of all Americans seem to be allergic to.

Because it's such a melting pot, one can find shops and restaurants that represent all corners of the globe. Colorful neighborhoods such as Kitsilano that we spent part of a morning roaming through are a good example of that. We were so busy roaming around some places that were new to us that we didn't even have time to hit the usual places such as Chinatown, opting instead to take the Sky Train to the heavily Asian-influenced suburb of Richmond for a very well-prepared and tasty dim sum session.

BowlingJoe with ball and pin: kind of like our game but smaller

A uniquely Canadian activity that we participated in was Five-Pin Bowling. This game was invented in Canada in around 1909. It's similar to the bowling we know in the U.S. yet different in, of course, the number of pins (which also carry different "point"values) and the fact that you get a maximum number of three shots per frame. The ball and pins are also considerably smaller and a perfect game is 450 as opposed to our 300. I won't bore anyone with all of the terms and rules, but if interested, click on the link in the first sentence of this paragraph.

What were my scores (he asks himself rhetorically)? Let's just say that it took me a while to get used to this game but I managed to show continuous improvement. They were 116, 139 and 172. BowlingWidow's numbers also improved and she even threatened to beat me midway through the last game. But I just simply couldn't let that happen.

Video: BowlingJoe gets a rare 5-pin strike!

Before we knew it, our time was up and we had to head back to the train station. Oh...and one more thing. I'd be remiss if I failed to mention the brewpub situation in Vancouver. It's not nearly as vibrant as the scene in the Seattle-Portland area but there is one gem that pours a hoppy IPA and a smooth Guinness-like-but-with-more-body stout: Yaletown Brewing in the hip and up-and-coming area of southeast Vancouver. Honorable mention goes to Granville Island Brewing Company located on (go figure) Granville Island.

The Mini Pub Crawl

2010-06-22T18:22:00.000-07:00

In an effort to get into proper form for the Britain/Ireland trip in September, we decided to do a mini pub crawl a couple of weeks ago, consisting of two stops. Since we were in Seattle for the Susan Komen Walk for the Cure anyway, we went to establishments that neither of us have been to.

Most of the draft selection at The Beveridge Place Pub in West Seattle

First up was a trip to West Seattle and The Beveridge Place Pub. This was a beautiful place in a nice neighborhood that had lots of comfy couches to get lost in on the main floor with a whole array of different games such as cribbage on the many tables.

My personal favorite feature? It has to be the fact that the bar itself used to be a bowling lane from a center that met the business end of a wrecking ball a long time ago. BowlingWidow and I each ordered a hoppy IPA (can't recall the brand though...there were so many) and enjoyed being in the warm confines of this establishment.
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The cozy space at Brouwer's Cafe

It was on to the Fremont district of Seattle and Brouwer's Cafe. This is a place that specializes in Belgian Ales. And they had tons of them. But when our bartender mentioned that they had Pliny the Elder (brewed by Russian River Brewing) on draft and arguably the hoppiest ale made today, we simply had to have a pint to go with the pub grub we ordered. (Note: for those who are interested in learning more about Pliny the Elder, the Roman Philosopher, click on this link).

We're not quite ready for a full-blown pub crawl in Dublin yet. But it was a good beginning.

We're With The Band (Redux)

2010-06-09T18:07:00.000-07:00

Now that the nasty Trojan Virus has been eradicated from my computer system (I think) for the second time, it's appropriate to get back into the swing of things and warm up with a short blog post.

For anyone who shakes their head in disgust at the number of Al Stewart and Dave Nachmanoff posts that show up here (and there are a few of you), feel free to hit the "back" button a few more times and Google the phrase "World Cup Soccer" like the rest of the global masses.

Leftynemesis and Dave before the show

Yep, Al and Dave were in town recently, performing a free show at the Snoqualmie Casino, so my friend Leftynemesis and I stepped up to help Dave sell his CDs at the merchandise table. The bad news is that we missed most of the concert, having to guard the goods in the lobby. The really good news is that we were granted all-access passes, including backstage, before and after the show.

Just as the first time we were allowed to do so, it was a lot of fun hanging out with them, exchanging bits of music trivia and listening to Al deliver more than a few words about his 40-plus year career as a folk-rock headliner. We also talked a little NFL Football. For some reason (I never did find out why), Al is a huge Denver Broncos fan.

BowlingJoe looks on as Dave warms up

Before the show, we were backstage with them while Al was writing down the night's list of songs. Being knowledgeable fans, the left-handed one and I were doing our best to persuade him to play things that we selfishly wanted to hear, albeit while in the lobby. Al was having none of it, though, and proceeded to write down hits such as Year of the Cat and Time Passages. Oh well, maybe next time.

As the post-concert merchandise lines dwindled into nothing, we headed back to the green room once more for a late night catered sandwich and some last-minute conversation. And then we all hit the road into a rainy North Bend night.

Al writes the set list (WITHOUT BowlingJoe's help!!!)

If you've managed to make it this far in the blog post, thank you for hanging in there. Since I know that more fans of fine ale read this than fans of Al Stewart and Dave Nachmanoff, the next post, coming up in just a few days, will be devoted to a Seattle-area "mini pub crawl" that Bowlingwidow and I recently made up involving two alehouses we've always wanted to visit.

On the Road to Recovery

2010-05-18T17:49:00.000-07:00

There’s a reason that heart patients are called "patients". Being a heart patient requires more that the standard amount of “patience”. One needs to adhere to a strict list of do’s and don’ts such as not lifting anything that weighs much. Or making sure you’ve got a nice pillow to clutch to your chest like a recovered fumble in the fourth quarter of the game. You wouldn’t want those stitches to come apart, after all, and have to start over.

BowlingJoe’s dad is one of those heart patients. Earlier this year, he was getting some preparatory work done in anticipation of back surgery when some doctor had the audacity to tell him that he needed a new aorta. He’s now the proud owner of a few inches of flexible hosing where his too-thin-to-last-much-longer original aorta portion once was. Not only that, he has a new heart valve that once belonged to a pig.

His surgery, which went quite well as these things go, was on March 2nd. The heart itself has pretty much healed and he isn’t gasping for breath as he once was early in the recovery process. But there was also the matter that a plethora of muscles, tendons and other assorted things needed to be gone through in order to get to the heart. That’s what’s taking the time to get better.

BowlingJoe's stepmom (Brenda) and dad (Ken): glad to be on his feet again

I spent a few hours with him last weekend and he looks and sounds remarkably better than he did during those first couple of weeks after the heart surgery. If all continues to go well, the much anticipated back surgery will take place sometime this summer. And beyond that, I sure his feelings wouldn’t be hurt if he stayed away from the business end of a scalpel for a few more years.

Reno Recap

2010-04-28T18:16:00.000-07:00

Fly or drive? Drive or fly? That was the question this year regarding my annual trip to the national bowling tournament in yet another attempt to assert dominance on the hardwoods while minimizing the inevitable embarrassment that goes with this sort of challenging territory.

This year’s event was in Reno. And because I’d be travelling with my doubles partner (BowlingBob) and his wife (Sharon) we ultimately decided to cram ourselves, our clothes, and our bowling equipment into his Toyota Tacoma Crew Cab and try our luck on the freeways, highways and byways.

It’s around a 13-15 hour trip each way, depending on which way you choose to go, so we decided to spend a night at a Super 8 Motel in Roseburg, Oregon each direction. For the uninitiated, Roseburg is an Oregonian word meaning “clusters of budget chain hotels that surround clusters of budget chain restaurants.”
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BowlingBob and Sharon Show Off the In-N-Out Goodie Bag

On the way down it was unanimously deemed to be really, really important to find an In-N-Out Burger place in Northern California. So what if it’s a couple of hours away? It’s against California state law NOT to stop at an In-N-Out Burger establishment when the opportunity presents itself. And the opportunity happened to present itself in Chico.
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BowlingJoe: Caught in an April Donner Pass Flurry

Chico also happens to be the home of Sierra Nevada Brewing Company, but because of time constraints and the fact that we had several more hours to drive to Reno, we settled for the burgers. And they were damn good.

The rest of the trip there was pretty smooth except for some snow flurries on Donner Pass that were easily negotiated. [Okay…….time for a joke that’s klassy with a “k”: Overheard at a restaurant near Trukee in the Sierra Mountains: "Donner, party of eight..." (pause) "Excuse me, Donner, party of seven. Your table is ready."]
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Bowlers Rick, Brian, Tommy, and BowlingJoe after a fine Mexican Meal

We checked into the Sands Regency when we got there. Such a deal. $20 a night! And the place had a completely free happy hour for bowlers and dollar beers the rest of the time. I think I could afford to retire there. I mean NOW, at age 49. Big thumbs up for value with the Sands. Not the nicest place in Reno but dollar for dollar the best buy in town.

As far as any gambling activity it was confined pretty much to the Sports Book, where BowlingBob and I made some “sure thing” bets on things like the World Series and the Super Bowl. Because the event will be in Reno once again next year I have no doubt that we’ll be collecting thousands of dollars in 2011. Other than that, I watched BowlingBob rolling dice on the craps table for a while, and doing quite well until his luck imploded and he was handing chips back to the dealer (or whatever they call the guy who runs the craps table).
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BowlingBob: Pounding the 1-3 Pocket for his Family

Bowling? Oh yeah. For me it was a shimmer of greatness with a lone 222 game while spending the rest of the time wallowing in the mire of what my friend Brian refers to as “Junior League Hell”. As for BowlingBob, he got off to a pretty good start on day one, but suffered a tendon injury on the second day that ultimately forced him off the lanes for an appointment with Mr. Ice Pack.

BowlingJoe on Webcam: Hoping the Scoreboard is Wrong

When the dust finally settled and we performed our primal screams of frustration in the parking garage it was time to pack up and hit the road. But we’ll be back again next year. Same time, same place. Only next time it’ll be different. Really.

Reno Bound!

2010-04-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

It's now the eve of a road trip to Reno with my doubles partner. As always, I'll try and bowl the best nine games of my life. And in my mind, I just did that! More to come....

(Photo: National Bowling Stadium in Reno, NV)

A Touch of Asia in Edmonds, Washington

2010-03-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

I love going to Asian supermarkets. There’s nothing quite like live lobster tanks, piles of fish heads on ice and 30 different kinds of Kimchi for sale. We used to have to hit the road for nearly an hour to get this kind of experience some 45 miles away in Seattle’s International District. No more.

Jim and BowlingJoe hanging out by the crab tank

We’ve known about the 99 Ranch Market in Edmonds, WA (much closer to home) for some time but never really got around to checking it out until today. I’m wondering why it took so long. This place has an incredible selection of produce, fish, noodles, rice, sauces and everything else under the Eastern sun that I’m incapable of pronouncing correctly. It’s Mecca and Xanadu combined for those who are passionate about canned quail eggs (I’ll pass, thank you very much). And all of this at very reasonable prices.

I’m thinking that we probably spent 90 minutes today roaming the aisles with our friends Jim, Stephanie and their "cute as a bug's ear" 2-year-old daughter Katie. I wanted to buy everything that caught my eye: ginger sauces, dumplings, green tea drinks, and so on. But BowlingWidow was effective in containing my out of control enthusiasm.

We escaped with around $20 worth of groceries including some healthy Asian fragrant apple pears. But then there was also that $1.99 bottle of Taiwanese beer that may or may not be the deal of the century. That remains to be seen.

Hello Boss canned coffee drink: where do they come up with these names?

The afternoon ended with a delicious and plentiful family style meal at the Chinese T&T Seafood Restaurant that was next door. I didn’t keep track but I do believe that the net weight of what we took home in boxes exceeded what was consumed at the table. And that’s something you’ll never see at Denny’s. Nor would you want to.

Finally...The Elusive 800 Series

2010-03-10T17:43:00.000-08:00

BowlingJoe With His Weapon of Choice: The Columbia Full Swing

After a lengthy hiatus it's time to write about bowling again. I figure that I've been bowling regularly for around 30 years when you take away the years that I was either (a) a baby/toddler or (b) unable or unwilling to come up with the discretionary income that's required to participate in league bowling.

A couple of weeks ago I was able to, through a combination of dialed-in shot making and plain luck, bowl the highest scratch (sans handicap) three-game series of my life. At 801, it was just above the water-mark of 800. Games were 278, 268, and 255.

It was particularly special since an 800 series is statistically at least three times harder to get than a perfect 300 game (of which I have just one from a very good night in May, 2003).

In fairness, professional bowlers usually have multiple 300 games and 800 series'. And they do it while bowling on lane conditions that are a lot tougher than what we bowl on in league. But for a 49-year-old guy who bowls once a week.....not bad. I'll happily add that to my bowling resume.

Chile Verde a la BowlingJoe

2010-02-24T14:46:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I enjoy cooking. Especially when I'm cooking something that originated in the Southwest U.S. or south of the border. The results are normally not stellar enough to warrant a blog entry but last Sunday I think all of the culinary lottery numbers were present and in the right order.

I used a few different recipes that I found online and attempted to take what I felt was the best from each of them. I present to you....my rendition of Pork Chile Verde. The chiles I used, by the way, were fresh roasted Hatch chiles obtained from the Everett Farmers Market last fall and frozen for occasions such as this.

If there are any other fans of Southwest cooking who happen to read this and try out the recipe, let me know what you think.

BowlingJoe’s Pork Chile Verde

2.5 lbs pounds pork butt or shoulder or loin (with fat trimming optional), cut into 2-inch cubes
1/2 teaspoon salt (or to taste)
1/2 to 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup flour
1/8 cup canola oil
2 small to medium white onions, chopped
1 green bell pepper roughly chopped
6 Hatch (or Anaheim) chiles (roasted, skinned, seeded and chopped)
2 jalapenos, seeded and chopped
4 garlic cloves chopped or run through a garlic press
1 pound tomatillos (peel off the husk, quarter and put in blender process so still chunky)
1/2 tablespoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 tablespoon ground coriander
1 bay leaf
1 small bunch cilantro, chopped
2-1/2 cups chicken stock

Directions

Add salt and pepper to flour. Put the pork into the flour and coat lightly.

Heat oil, and brown the pork on all sides. Remove from pan and put into a Dutch oven
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Drain the oil from the frying pan and add the onions and green pepper, cooking until onions are translucent, 5 mins or so.

Add the Hatch chiles, jalapenos and garlic and cook 2-3 mins. Put this mixture into the Dutch oven; add the tomatillos, spices, cilantro and chicken stock. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally for 2 hrs or so, until the pork is tender. Serve with warm tortillas.

Yield: 3 to 4 servings

Weighing In on Bowling Averages

2010-02-19T10:27:00.000-08:00

It’s been rough going for BowlingJoe on the lanes this year so far. My 2009-2010 league average is currently at 197. Down from a career-best 213 that I posted last year. There are probably a lot of reasons for this ranging from physical glitches in my release through the mental anguish that can snowball after weeks of not striking and missing easy spares.

While I’ve been trained to understand that correlation does not imply causation, I find it very interesting that my bowling average this year has dropped at roughly the same rate that pounds have dropped from my body. Is there something to this? And if there is, should I compromise my health and well being, gain 60 pounds and become the greatest bowler in the history of the sport?

A Weekend in Centralia

2010-02-03T16:48:00.000-08:00

There’s something about taking a short trip on a train that just feels right. In the past, BowlingWidow and I have taken weekend jaunts both north to Vancouver B.C. and south to Portland, Oregon. A couple of weekends ago, Al Stewart and Dave Nachmanoff were playing a concert at Centralia Community College, creating the perfect opportunity to take Amtrak from Everett, WA to Centralia, WA, a small town around an hour south of Tacoma.

Along with our friends Leftynemesis and InteriorMaven (I met the left-handed one many years ago in my bowling league and in fact officiated the wedding between him and InteriorMaven…..but that’s another story), we boarded the train and settled in for the three and a half hour ride.
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InteriorMaven and Leftynemesis in front of the hotel

From the Centralia station we walked a short block to our hotel: the refurbished Olympic Club Hotel and Theater. McMenamins (a Portland based group well known for buying old schools and other buildings and converting them to cool getaway places) bought this old relic several years ago and refurbished it just enough to make it comfortable yet keep its rustic uniqueness.

Rooms are basic. No TVs and no private baths, though they do have sinks. Want to take a shower or use the toilet? There are a few of those on each floor which really didn’t present much of a problem. Besides, where else can you get a room with a queen sized bed on a Saturday night for 60-bucks and NOT have to call the police at some point.
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BowlingWidow: Lost in a Sea of Antiques

Did I mention that McMenamins brews their own beer and serves it in their restaurants and pubs? Yep, they do. Plays right into my hand. Hammerhead Ale. Terminator Stout. Sunflower IPA. And so on. They have something there for any beer lover.

The first thing we noticed while walking around downtown Centralia is the number of antique stores that are there. They’re everywhere. Centralia has more antique stores than there are Starbucks coffee places in Manhattan. None of us bought anything of any significance but it was a nice day just walking around.
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After the show (L-R): Dave Nachmanoff, InteriorMaven, Leftynemesis, Al Stewart, BowlingJoe, BowlingWidow
In the evening, we made the short walk to the concert venue, a comfy small theater where Al and Dave put on yet another splendid show. The difference in this show is that our seats were actually front and center. I skillfully took advantage of this windfall by shamelessly stealing the set list on the stage just before the encore. Al (who said he wouldn’t need it anymore) and Dave were glad to autograph it for me.

After a night that was interrupted a few times by train whistles – we knew that would happen being next to the train tracks – we awoke to rain. No problems, though. We met Leftynemesis and InteriorMaven at a nice little restaurant called The Berry Fields and ate well.
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The Concert's Set List: Shamelessly Stolen from Al Stewart

It became time for our friends to catch an earlier train back home, and with the rain BowlingWidow and I decided to hole up at The Olympic Club bar and watch some NFL playoff football with some appetizers and beverages. A fitting way to conclude what was a pretty nice little birthday weekend in Centralia.

Catherine the Great

2010-01-22T20:56:00.000-08:00

When it comes to dedicating time to physical conditioning I need a bit of help. Left completely on my own to execute an hour-long workout, it might go something like this: five minutes of stretching, twenty minutes of focused exercise, ten minutes of resting and thinking about the last twenty-five minutes of the workout, twenty minutes that resumes with enthusiasm but gradually tapers into lethargy, concluding with five more minutes of stretching.

This is where Catherine comes in. We’re fortunate at Boeing to have a Fitness Center with some very good group conditioning instructors, one of which happens to be her. She’s cruel and relentless but in a good way, as the group is constantly in cardio vascular pumping motion and often working a couple of different muscle groups at the same time. You may want to stop but you can’t. After all, who wants to be identified as the person in the room who is blatantly dogging their way through the hour? Not me.

At five-foot three and with about as much body fat as an Olympic swimmer, she certainly looks the part when it comes to her chosen profession. I started attending her three-a-week conditioning classes in October and haven’t looked back. Recently, I added her weekly spin (stationary bike) class to the mix to add to the exhaustion.

I haven’t known Catherine for very long, but long enough to know this: if I’m ever involved in a street fight I want her fighting with me and not against me.

Catherine: A Witness for Fitness

The other day she took time out from abdominal crunches, sumo squats, incline chest presses, and step aerobics to answer a few questions:

Bowling Joe: Are you originally from the Seattle area?

Catherine: I was born and raised in Lincolnshire, Illinois, about 20 miles north of Chicago. I moved to the San Juan Islands in 1986 (culture shock!) and then to the Seattle area in 1989.

BJ: What first got you excited about getting a job in the fitness industry?

C: I had been working out with weights for about seven years (a dreadful breakup gravitated me to the gym back in '97) and had trained for two years with a professional body builder, so was not afraid to lift heavy! I really liked the definition and sculpting I created with those heavier weights. I began noticing certain women at the gym, repeatedly working with the same pair of 5 lb. dumbbells, doing the same exercises, and sporting the same shape and size- minimal changes, if any. I knew without question that I could help them! Most women are afraid of heavy weights, fearing a bulky look. Won't happen unless you get into serious power-lifting. Thus began my schooling for my personal training cert. I was determined to share my knowledge and help others reach their goals.

BJ: How long have you been in this business?

C: I've been sculpting my own physique for over 10 years. I've been teaching others for almost 3.

BJ: Are you a personal trainer as well, and if so which do enjoy more, group or personal training?

C: I originally got certified as a personal trainer. I was a trainer for about a year at certain "chain" health clubs. I wasn't crazy about the sales pitch aspect of p.t. (I'm no good at pressuring people to buy a package of 64 sessions). One day I was asked to sub in for a group weight-lifting class when the instructor was ill, and I fell in love with it instantly. I now strictly offer group training. I believe part of my talent as a group instructor comes from my person training background. I am a stickler for good instruction, proper form, and modifying when you need to. And by GOD, I'll work you hard! Most of us are stronger than we realize.

BJ: What sports did you participate in as a youth and are you still active in any organized sports today?

C: Funny, I hated sports as a youth- probably because I was absolutely no good at any of them! I played field hockey (HATED it), basketball (DESPISED IT), volleyball (THIS I enjoyed, but I was dreadful at it), and track (SHEER DRUDGERY). I am not involved in sports today- I've accepted that it's not my area of talent. I am also the world's worst bowler. I am often invited to bowl with friends, sheerly for the comic relief I unwittingly offer.

BJ: I can relate to that. Lately, in my bowling league I’ve been serving up plenty of comic relief for my opponents. But enough about that! The trend in this country over the past thirty years has been that we're eating more poorly and not getting enough exercise. Are things getting better or worse when it comes to this?

C: It seems to me that things are getting worse- as indicated by the ever-increasing rate of obesity in this country. It's hard to stay slim when so much in our culture supports inactivity and encourages lousy nutrition. It's a real challenge for people to make time to exercise, but it's an absolute must. Equally important is a healthy diet. You can work out for hours a day, but if you are over-eating or choosing sugary, fat-laden foods (I have been guilty of this in the not-too-distant past), you will not see the results for which you are working so hard. 80% of visible fat loss depends on diet. Sorry to say it!

BJ: What fitness goals have your accomplished in the past and do you have any you'd like to meet in the future?

C: Even with my training and knowledge of proper eating, I struggled for years with those last 10 lbs I wanted to lose. I could NOT beat the sugar demon! But I did it, two years ago. I started focusing (some would call it meditating) every day on exactly how I wanted my body to look. I still do it- I visualize myself already having the trim, muscular physique I wanted. Then I take the steps necessary to make it reality. I cut out sweets, I eat fruits and veggies throughout the day, and I exercise regularly. I lost about a pound a week and reached my goal in 10 weeks, for the first time in my life. It was thrilling and it made me realize how powerful of a tool visualization is. I think it's the missing link when it comes to creating, well, ANYTHING we want in our lives!

BJ: I've heard you have at least one other job outside of your classes at Boeing Fitness. Take me through a typical week of yours.

C: Yes, I work at Sand Point Grill on weekends- it's about two miles north of Husky Stadium- great food and a killer Happy Hour! Right now, between the restaurant and group exercise, I don't have a single day off. I teach two classes per week Monday thru Thursday- different formats. (Cycling, Weights, Kickboxing) Thursday I teach Boot Camp at Gold's, one hour. Friday I teach one class at Boeing and then manage the restaurant in the evening. Saturday I'm at the restaurant, Sunday I teach Kickboxing in the afternoon and work the restaurant at night. (SOMEBODY shake me up a martini and rub my feet!) Ultimately, I am looking to get out of the restaurant work, although I really do enjoy it. I am also focusing on creating some exercise DVDs and getting a website going. You can do my workouts in your own home!
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Catherine and a "Sculpting" Class: Which Way to the Beach?

BJ: Ah, the perfect remedy for those of us who don't get enough of you during regular workout hours. When it comes to eating, any guilty pleasures?
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C: Sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar, SUGAR. In any form. I do my best to steer clear of it.

I also partake in a martini three nights a week- and a darn big one. I relish every sip, and have no intention of ever giving up this indulgence. Another dietary downfall for me- DIET COKE. Pure chemicals, artificial sweetener, horrible stuff. And I LOVE it. I allow myself one can a day. I've tried going off of it- it's a full-blown addiction!

BJ: What's the strangest thing you've ever seen in a gym?

C: I'm glad you didn't ask about the gym locker room! Let's see....one woman would do headstands in between sets of leg presses. After seeing this for weeks, I finally asked her why. She heard that if you do headstands in between leg exercises, the fat from your thighs will be drawn by gravity away from your legs. Words failed me. Where does the fat go?? If it's gravity at work, I assume it ends up in our heads. This would look terrible, in my opinion. I told her to let me know how that worked out for her.

BJ: Any final comments?

C: In closing, I will say this- I LOVE my job teaching Group Exercise! I get to be creative in designing class formats and routines; I am thrilled to help others improve their health, and I enjoy the challenge of making my group exercise classes effective and FUN. And I truly believe they are just that! RIGHT, JOE??......

BJ: Right, Catherine. And to say otherwise would just be asking for ten extra minutes of excruciatingly painful abdominal exercises.

A Sunday Afternoon in Bellingham

2010-01-11T19:11:00.000-08:00

Whenever the opportunity presents itself, it’s always a pleasure to visit Bellingham, WA. That opportunity in fact did present itself on Sunday as Muffinheadedboy and his roommate Brian needed a ride back to Bellingham where they go to college.

Along with BowlingWidow, we all jumped in the Matrix and headed north at around eleven a.m. Bellingham has it all in my opinion. It’s got the warm cultural vibe that’s present in so many medium sized towns with a university located within the city limits. A cool downtown with a lot of unique independent stores and restaurants. Mount Baker looms just to the east with Bellingham Bay to the west. And it’s a nice gateway to visit Canada, eh? Yep, Bellingham has a lot going for it.
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Bandito's Burritos: The View from State Street

When I have time, there are always two places I make a point to visit. The first is a little hole-in-the wall burrito place downtown on Holly Street called Bandito’s Burritos. I don’t go there for the burritos however, although I did have one once and it was pretty good. I’m there for the salsa bar. For just $3.25 I can get 16 ounces of the finest homemade salsa in existence. And there aren’t just a few to choose from. There are TWELVE! All are worthy of consideration and they range from mild to “habanero wild”.

There are salsas that have apple and other odd fruit in them. Green salsas. Red salsas. Salsa in which the predominant ingredient is ginger. One thing for sure is that you never get exactly the same thing twice. Me? I’m kind of a traditionalist and tend to go with the tomato-based ones. But it had darned well better be hot. This time I went with the four-star (out of five) known appropriately as “Fire in the Hole”. This version also featured an abundance of garlic. Can one ever have too much garlic? I think not.
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Bandito's Salsa Bar: Pure Heaven for the Fiery Food Aficionado

The other place is Boundary Bay Brewing Company on nearby Railroad Avenue. This small brewery has deservedly done quite well since opening a few years ago and has won some prestigious awards for their product. Being a big fan of the hoppy IPAs, their version represents the gold standard of the style as far as I’m concerned.

BowlingWidow and I downed one each with our lunch. Yes, they have a pretty decent restaurant as well. She enjoyed a chicken curry meal while I warmed up with a nice bowl of homemade chili.
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Boundary Bay Brewery: a "Must Visit" in Bellingham

Sadly, our three hour whirlwind trip to Bellingham had to come to an end as all good things must, and we hit the on-ramp for the return trip on I-5 southbound, back home to Marysville: The Anti-Bellingham.

Snuggie Mania Takes Over The House

2010-01-01T08:12:00.000-08:00

What a brilliant idea. Take an inexpensive blanket, incorporate a couple of large arm holes, and sell it anywhere and everywhere for between $12 and $20. It's a concept so simple that would-be entrepreneurs around the world are kicking themselves for not having invented it and purchased a fleet of yachts with the proceeds.

Muffinheadedboy and BowlingJoe showing off their Snuggies

Naturally, we had to be good consumers and get a couple of Snuggies for Christmas. They really are quite comfortable to lounge around in despite the fact that they're loaded with enough static electricity to light up a small town.

I think I'll start the year 2010 by taking the Snuggie thing a bit further. I'm officially announcing that I'm starting a new religion that will be known as Snuggitarian Snuggiversalism. Cash donations are being accepted as of now.

Checkin' In After 14 Weeks

2009-12-16T17:31:00.000-08:00

Time to pause and look back on what's been 14 weeks of focus on better health and weight management. When I set out on this mission in early September, my goal was to arrive at a weight of 180 pounds by mid-May of 2010, which represents a loss of 35 pounds. Not only getting there but staying there (and staying healthy) is the real prize.
I'm happy to say that I weighed in today at 200.5, which puts me a half-pound ahead of schedule. Any secrets to this? Not really. But here are some things I'm cognizant of:

1. Do SOMETHING every day. I get a good all-around conditioning workout in, which includes aerobic exercise and light/medium weights, on four or five days a week. The other days might just be walking a couple of miles and/or doing yoga, but it's something.

2. Avoid fried foods and things loaded with fat. But if you have anything like that, limit your portions. This past Sunday I'll admit to having eaten a Burger King Whopper. But it was a Junior Whopper and hence not as tragic.

3. Limit snacking and eating after dinner. When I have been snacking though, we have these great lime popsicles that are around 80 calories each.

4. Don't deprive yourself of everything you like to eat and drink. I haven't given up on tacos and beer, and don't intend to anytime soon.

5. Finally, remember this number: 3500. That's what a pound of body fat equates to in calories. So in order to lose one pound per week, each day you have to somehow dispose of 500 more calories than you'd normally take in when you sustain the same weight. That can be a combination of exercise and less caloric intake. I choose to try and burn approximately 300 additional calories through exercise and reduce consumption by around 200. I'm sure there are factors that make this amount more or less but I find it to be an accurate rule of thumb.

To 2010 (and beyond)!

I Smoked a Turkey (now my lungs are charred)

2009-12-08T17:02:00.000-08:00

At first glance, cooking a Thanksgiving turkey for eleven people sounds like a daunting task. And I suppose it could be if I were fighting for space in the kitchen and oven. This holiday was one of those days that I’m really glad that we have a propane smoker.
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I set things up the night before as I had to get things going pretty early on Thursday morning. Cherry wood chips were soaking and the water bowl that produces all of that nice smoky steam was in position.
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Some of the appetizer-eating crowd

We took the thawed 15 pound bird out of the refrigerator at around 6 am and slapped it with some olive oil, followed by a generous amount of Emeril’s Turkey Rub.
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The rule of thumb is that it takes ½ hour per pound to smoke at an in-smoker temperature of between 225 and 250 degrees Fahrenheit. We were looking at around 7-8 hours of elapsed time (followed by ½ hour of setting time) with the goal of having the meat thermometer register 165 degrees at the end.
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By gosh, everything worked out as planned and judging by the comments we heard from our consumers, it was a major success. Hmmm….I just might have to toss a ham in the smoker for Christmas.

BowlingJoe and the cooked bird: which is the real turkey?

Another Look at Yoga

2009-11-21T19:01:00.000-08:00

In March of this year, the staff association at BowlingWidow’s place of employment organized a weekly yoga session. I agreed to attend with her thinking full well that I’d participate for a couple of weeks and go back to watching Monday Night Football. Truth be told, I even blogged about the experience and poked more than a little bit of fun about it.

Well, eight months later I’m still a regular on Monday nights, having learned far more about yoga than I ever thought I would. It’s hard to articulate but suffice it to say that I feel really good both physically and mentally after the sessions, and it’s now an essential ingredient in a portfolio of activities that are contributing to better overall health.

Our outstanding instructor, Paul MacNaughton, recently answered some questions I had about yoga and his approach to it. So here it is, my first ever interview on the BowlingJoe blog. Now if only Paul could do something to cure my sagging bowling average.....

BowlingJoe: In your words, what is yoga?

Paul MacNaughton: Yoga is a re-discovery of things we already know, in the present moment.

The yoga principles, including not harming, not stealing, not being greedy, and so on, are nothing new in themselves. What is new is how we can follow them in this moment. That is never the same twice.

The asanas (postures) remind us of what the physical body is capable, perhaps shapes and movements which we have not explored since we were children, at least not intentionally. In class we re-awaken to our own physical nature. The result is a greater range of awareness and health for both mind and body.

There are also breath disciplines/expansions, and internal focus techniques such as meditation. These are maps and practice guides for exploring the mysteries of living, such as the question "Who am I?", and "What is the source of suffering in the world?", among countless others. Except for a few rather fundamentalist sects of yoga, which try to provide the "answers" to these questions for us, the responses to these questions are newly re-discovered by the practitioner. In other words, rather than a dogma, yoga is experience in the present moment, first and foremost.

Just a few words concerning what I feel yoga is not. Of course, this could be controversial. Yoga is not a religion or a belief system. Some of the terminology and the sanskrit come from the Vedas, but clear lines between categories of things such as religion vs. science vs. philosophy vs. art did not seem to exist uniformly at all times in human history. So, we can say modern yoga is not a religion or belief system. It is a practice.
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Paul MacNaughton

BJ: How long have you been practicing yoga and what was your original inspiration for doing so?

PM: A friend of mine, Jeff Scott, took a TM course when we were in college, and said, "You have got to try this!" The Beatles had been to India recently to study with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and I figured that if it was good enough for them and Jeff, I should give it a try. With a few lapses, I have been practicing meditation in some form since that time. There were a few very simple postures and breath exercises as part of the TM training, but it was mainly about meditation. For the last 9 years I have had a much-augmented postures and breath exercise routine, and still continue the meditation practice on a regular basis, though I now mostly practice using techniques other than TM.

BJ: There are many different types of yoga styles being taught and practiced today. Which one (or ones) resonate the most with you and why?

PM: The style that I practice most of the time currently is the karuna yoga which I teach. It is a blend of Iyengar-like hatha yoga postures, kundalini yoga, which emphasizes reliance on the power of the core and the breath rather than the muscles, and some aspects of John Friend's anusara yoga, especially the alignment-opening-stabilizing work with loops and spirals, and the 5 elements.

While all styles of yoga have their advantages, and perhaps pitfalls, I tend to recommend the gentle styles. I believe that compassion for our limitations, and the limitations of others, is an essential part of the yogic process. I have heard very famous teachers speak to the contrary. Ultimately, it is matter of exploration and personal choice.

BJ: How has practicing yoga made a difference in the quality of your life?

PM: It is hard to say exactly what is causal in life, there are so many influencing factors. But, I was 50 pounds heavier 10 years ago. I also don't eat carbs or sugar very much, and I try to walk 4 or 5 miles per week. I cannot imagine life without daily yoga. I believe yoga has increased my strength and general health, including mental/emotional stability and equanimity.

Also, yoga has led me to discoveries which help me to see life more clearly. Perhaps that has been its greatest gift for me.

BJ: Prior to becoming involved in practicing yoga I had a rather oversimplified view of what yoga is. What are some common misconceptions about yoga in American society and popular culture?

PM: When we use the term yoga today, most of us are speaking about the postures (asanas). I fall into that trap myself quite often. When I catch myself and say "asanas" instead, most people look at me as if either I have misspoken, or am trying to get technical with them. So I don't usually fight it, unless I am trying to intentionally make a point.

Many still adamantly believe that all yoga is a religion, and some call it a tool of the devil. Of course, for these people, there is no satisfactory response--their minds are made up. Any "open-minded discussion" is really an attempt to paint an inaccurate and unbecoming portrait, and then protest the ugliness. It is about dominance/submission.

There are certain forms of yoga where worship and devotion are involved. That is true. But, in this country, is it not a right to practice one's religion within the confines of the law? Does it say somewhere that others can determine our choice in the matter? A person of any faith or belief system can practice yoga without interference. Almost all yogas do not tell us which God to worship, or any at all, including the forms I practice.

Yoga is about disentangling our body, heart, and mind, from the automatic patterns of behavior which rule us in our daily lives, and opening to our truest, deepest nature, which is always already free, compassionate, awake, and kind.
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Paul MacNaughton

BJ: For those who are interested in initially learning about or starting to practice yoga, where would you suggest they start?

PM: Locally, Kindred Spirit Learning Center, a branch of Sound Holistic Health, above the Sno-Isle Food Co-op in downtown Everett, has 3 yoga teachers on staff. Go to http://www.soundholistichealth.com/ for the schedule. My website, http://creativesourcealliance.com/ also has information. http://yogacirclestudio.com/ is another good source.

Generally-speaking, my recommendation is anusara yoga. But, there are many excellent teachers on almost all of the paths. Trust your own experience, listen to your body, and follow your heart!

They Might Be In Concert

2009-11-14T18:24:00.000-08:00

(Note: I have BowlingWidow proofread most of my blogs before I actually post them. She thought that this one had kind of a negative vibe to it. Maybe it does, but it's not because They Might Be Giants were disappointing. Quite the opposite in fact. They were great. I'd love to see them in concert again, as it's one of the best plugged-in band concerts I've been to in years. I can't possibly be turning into a curmudgeon at age 48, can I???)

As time marches on, I tend to not go to nearly as many rock, jazz, blues, folk (or whatever) concerts anymore. After thinking about this briefly, I can boil the reasons for this down to a few:

1. There aren’t that many new acts that interest me. The acts that do interest me are often retired, deceased, or simply no fun anymore since they quit using drugs and alcohol. Some are all three.

2. My bedtime is usually at about the time the featured performers take the stage.

3. Large audiences annoy me. Nothing personal, but the bigger the crowd, the higher the likelihood that there will be some idiot(s) who think that the event is strictly for and about them, and will proceed to misbehave in any manner they see fit.

4. It irritates me to no end that Ticketmaster adds around 25% to the so-called “face value” of the ticket.

But as with most things, we made an exception to this last Tuesday night. The next day was a holiday for much of the country, so Muffinheadedboy and his girlfriend were able to join us in seeing the band They Might Be Giants at The SoDo Showbox in Seattle. This is a small sparse venue with no seats and a concrete floor. It’s kind of like seeing a concert in a wing of Costco or something, but with decidedly better acoustics.
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I won’t blather on with a concert review here since there’s plenty of information on They Might Be Giants and their long careers to be found online. But suffice it to say that their music is fun, witty, and they have quite a following. If you’ve seen the old Fox Network show “Malcolm in the Middle” you may know that the opening theme (“Boss of Me”) was performed by TMBG. BowlingWidow and I discovered them some 15 years ago but this was the first time we’ve had a chance to see them live.

We all stood in line in the rain for over a half hour but were rewarded by being among the first to get into the building. We made it to the 6th row of humanity and were approximately 15 feet from the stage. Nice. Unfortunately the Showbox camera Nazis were out in full force so I wasn’t able to get even a poorly executed picture of the band (I stole the ones for this blog post shamelessly).

At 9 pm sharp the opening act, The Guggenheim Grotto (a worthy but unmemorable acoustical duo), took the stage with TMBG arriving at 10 pm. 10 pm! That’s insane. But we soon forgot about the time and the fact that my back was tightening up like a rope tow after standing for so long. Before we knew it, the second encore had ended and it was 12:15 am.

And, yes, being up way too late I made the wise choice of letting Muffinheadedboy drive home. He’s a college student and hits his stride at oh……1 am or so. I seem to vaguely remember those days.

Halloween: Holiday Lost?

2009-11-03T18:27:00.000-08:00

This past Saturday was Halloween. When BowlingJoe was growing up in Port Angeles, Halloween was always a special look-forward-to and must-do event. Twice the urgency when it happened to fall on a Friday or Saturday night. Rain or shine, the neighborhood kids would get together donning white sheets or those cheap plastic masks that became moist from the condensation of your breath after two minutes.

We’d canvass virtually the entire town with pillow cases (they made the best candy bags as opposed to the disintegrating paper grocery bags), returning home only to dump the haul from the first load and go back for more. Guaranteed cavities by the pound.

The really good houses were the ones that gave out full-sized candy bars. None of those unfortunately named “Fun Size” things that they give out today. And every now and then there would be a resident that had the audacity to give out something healthy, such as an orange. Scandalous!

Ah, but that was then and this is now. Some people still speak of brisk crowds of candy-gathering youth on October 31st. But there has been a steady decline in the numbers of them who are ambitious enough to head down our long, dark but accessibile driveway. In fact, let the record state that in 2009 we had just three trick or treaters show up at our door. That’s right, three. And they all came in one group with a watchful parent standing 30 feet back.

Now THAT'S how big I remember the candy bars being

Assuming that my hypothesis is correct and there are fewer active doorbelling ghosts and goblins, I’m interested in the underlying reason(s) that this is so. Does our society have a collective case of "stranger danger"? We all listen to the news and every now and then a crazy person or two captures the headlines, getting his (or her these days) fifteen minutes of fame and then some. That's gotta enter the craniums of a lot of Gen X-er parents.

Then there are the parties tied to places of employment. Sifting through Facebook entries I learned that there are more than a few parents who transported their offspring to places such as Microsoft who had a party in waiting.

Or is there just so much going on these days that Halloween is on its way to becoming as obsolete as a television antennae? Has it evolved into an adult holiday in which half the neighborhood has gone to a party, leaving the lights out and nobody home to hand out candy?

Maybe someday, somebody will write a book in which all of this is figured out. In the meantime, we have two extra large bags of candy sitting around if anyone is interested. We don't touch the stuff anymore.

Conveyor Belt Sushi: What a Concept

2009-10-14T18:36:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday, Muffinheadedboy turned 22 years of age (which doesn’t seem possible but then you can’t argue with a calendar). To help celebrate this event, he and his girlfriend took a break from Fall Quarter at Western Washington University in Bellingham to spend some time with us in the greater Marysville-Smokey Point area.

First, we met them at one of BowlingWidow and my favorite Saturday afternoon haunts, Skookum Brewery (previously blogged about in July, 2008). Much to the young man’s (and our) delight Skookum offers a free pint of ale on your birthday. We all had a nice conversation as we savored the hoppy moments.

We asked him where he wanted to go to dinner. Unfortunately, his girlfriend wouldn’t be able to join us but he picked out a fairly new place that they have been to a few times in the past. Unlike his parents, Muffinheadedboy is a fan of sushi. We headed toward Belt Sushi and Roll. My first thought was that this is a strange name for a restaurant. What do they mean by “belt”?

Upon entering the establishment, that question was answered immediately. The room is fairly small as restaurants go, and there’s a long U-shaped counter that customers are seated at. Just above the eating area are two conveyor belts providing slow-train transportation to small dishes of various types including sushi, shrimp rolls, squid, dumplings, and so on. I counted around 30 different items, including fruit and desserts.

Scene from a Conveyor Belt Sushi Restaurant

It’s kind of like dim sum at a Chinese restaurant only without servers and carts. Plates are color coded by price and run anywhere from $1 to $5 each. And if the conveyor concept doesn’t thrill you there’s a small menu to be ordered from as well. Combine all of this with the optional soy sauce, wasabi paste, hot chili sauce, and pickled ginger, and there’s something for everyone waiting to be plucked off the belt.

Is conveyor belt sushi new? Although it’s new to us, it’s hardly new in Japan, where there are more than 3000 of these places, and most large cities around the world. The first one can be traced back to 1958, according to Wikipedia. Apparently (and I have no idea since I don’t know jack-diddley about sushi) the quality of the product is a few notches below fancier sushi restaurants and is given the fast food label by those in the know.

Scene from another Conveyor Belt Sushi Restaurant

But fast food or not, the food was good and the experience was well worth an hour of being hypnotized by watching the conveyor belts go round and round, spotting new dishes every now and again. And at 40 bucks for three of us, we got our money’s worth. We left Belt Sushi and Roll happy that Muffinheadedboy chose this place to celebrate his birthday. My birthday is coming up in three months. We just may have to go back.

Here's To Good Health...

2009-10-01T21:10:00.000-07:00

After a long and successful run of poor eating habits and inconsistent exercising, I’ve decided that it’s time to take a serious look at losing (and keeping off) some weight and improving my overall health. I weigh 215 pounds. This would be fine if I were six-foot eight, but replace the “six” with “five” and that’s where I’m at. And at 48, it’s not as though my ability to metabolize food is exactly on my side either.

To assist with this, I’m employing a very simple yet potentially effective device: potential public humiliation. That’s right. Every month I’ll be checking in and blogging my weight versus where I think I should be at for that week. I’m taking it pretty easy. At a pound per week, I’d hit my initial goal of 180 (which STILL makes me overweight according to those militant height-weight charts) sometime in May of 2010. You can’t hide behind facts and data. I’ll also be setting up “before/after” numbers for triglycerides, cholesterol, blood pressure and so on.

So let the record state that on September 9th, 2009 I tipped the scales at 215 pounds. And hopefully I’ll muster up the willpower to replace orders of macho nachos with wheat thins and low-fat cheese.

Update: September 30th, 2009: 210 pounds. So far, so good. Now for the hard part. Continuity.

Uncorked: Al Stewart Live with Dave Nachmanoff

2009-09-25T16:55:00.000-07:00

In 1992 Al Stewart and his then-guitar accompanist Peter White recorded a live acoustic CD called Rhymes in Rooms. On the disc, Stewart and White performed eleven songs including “Year of the Cat” and “Time Passages”, which were top ten hits in the late 1970s.

Fast forward to 2009: Much to the delight of their fans (and those who might be about to become fans) Al and his current touring guitarist, Dave Nachmanoff, have just released their own unique collection of live acoustic songs that richly draw from Stewart’s vast breadth of work, called Uncorked (a nod to both wine – Stewart is a wine expert - and being “unplugged”).

The first thing I noticed upon reading the track listing is that it’s a set of music longtime fans can truly enjoy. The live versions of these songs consist of material originally recorded from 1967 (“Bedsitter Images”) through 1988 (“Last Days of the Century”). There’s also a rarity thrown in for good measure (“Coldest Winter”). No hits or anything that came close to a hit appears on the disc. And I’m more than good with that.

Lyrically, Uncorked plays to Al Stewart’s strengths. Intelligently written, historically based songs such as “Palace of Versailles”, “Warren Harding” and “Old Admirals” are solid choices. I remember them as examples of songs that sent me scurrying to the library to learn what they were about, in days well before the internet reduced exponentially the time required to do such a thing.

As for the music side of things, Stewart’s voice may have a few more rough edges compared to the “smooth as glass” sound from twenty years ago, but he’s still easy to listen to. Nachmanoff’s nifty guitar work sails through the set adding texture as though he’s been playing Al's songs his entire life. Well, actually that's because he has.

He handled parts that were once done with a piano decades ago (“The News from Spain”) with his acoustic guitar and didn’t miss a step. On other songs, I wondered how he could get his instrument to make such varied and unique notes (“Midas Shadow”).

Recorded at three different venues during a Northeastern U.S. tour in 2008, the production is clear and crisp, as good as or better than being there in person.

One of the pleasures of experiencing an Al Stewart/Dave Nachmanoff concert is the witty repartee in between songs. There’s a sampling of that on this disc called “Auctioning Dave”. Having heard a large number of Al’s stories over the years (many of them several times, in fact), I did enjoy the quirkiness of this segment but also wondered whether there may have been another choice that would connect with the listener to a greater degree. (Although there just might be a hidden dialogue track at the end of the last song on the disk, wink wink).

Ultimately, Uncorked is a solid and timely effort both in terms of Al Stewart’s long career and as a showcase of Dave Nachmanoff’s talent as a guitarist. The disc is well worth owning whether you’re an Al Stewart completist or someone who wants a good representation of what it’s like to be in the audience at an Al Stewart/Dave Nachmanoff concert.

Uncorked can be purchased at www.davenach.com/products.html. Audio samples are available.

Crab Safari 2009

2009-09-14T19:25:00.000-07:00

There’s nothing in the world quite like eating Dungeness Crab, conveniently found a short distance from pretty much anywhere in Western Washington. I’ve been going crabbing for years on Guemes Island and fondly remember the days in which one could walk along the shore during a low tide and garner a limit of six within an hour.
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Preparing the Crab Traps
Those days are sadly gone as the season doesn’t start until late July, long after the crab have moved to deeper parts of the water. Also, the size of what’s considered a legal catch has slowly crept larger and you’re now allowed to keep five instead of six.

Still, we make at least an annual crustacean gathering trek, and this time we were joined by our good friends The Johnsons and their kids.

We started things out by baiting the six crab traps that we were to toss into the water. One can use lots of different smelly and disgusting things to do this, from dog food through fish heads. My father in law likes to use cockles whose shells are smashed. It must be the natural way to attract crab.

Our group of four dropped the pots and came back to shore to give the shelled diners a chance to partake in their last meal before they found themselves in the business end of a bucket. We left the traps out for a couple of hours and then headed back out to reap the rewards of a bountiful harvest.
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Michael and Matthew: Anxious to Get Going

Or so we thought. The first trap looked promising as we lifted five keepers out, sending them to their holding cell. Unfortunately, the remaining traps weren’t as generous and we ended up with a total of ten to split between two families. Not bad, but far from the best we’ve seen and about half of what we would have had if we were to hit our limit.

We hauled the critters back to the boiling whirlpool bath that awaited them where they spent 15 minutes cooking. Then came my least favorite part. Removing the big shell and cleaning the lungs, guts and whatever other vile non-white-meat things exist in crab. I know that many parts of the world eat the WHOLE crab but that’s where I get off the train.
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The Crab in Various Stages of Processing

Finally, they were give a last rinse and put in Ziploc bags, ready to be put in the cooler and taken home. Crab Safari 2009 is history.

The Best Tacos In Marysville

2009-09-01T19:06:00.001-07:00

You know, the older I get, the more I appreciate the simple things in life. Distractions? They’re a younger person’s game. I believe it was Edie Brickell who once said “throw me in the shallow water before I get too deep." I've always liked her, especially because her dad (Eddie Brickell) is in the Texas State Bowling Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know, he's a lefty but I'm willing to look past that.

Going to eat at a taco truck is probably the most simple of all dining experiences possible and it’s something that BowlingWidow, Joe (the creator of Captain ILL) and I have been doing nearly every Monday night after our yoga session for the last couple of months. And I do say that it’s a tradition I hope will continue for many more Mondays to come.

BowlingJoe demonstrates proper taco-eating technique
Spicy, authentic Mexican food has always been a part of my life. And it probably will be until that inevitable day when the x-ray machine reveals that my intestines resemble something that looks like Swiss cheese. But for now, there isn’t anything better than two chicken tacos and an order of refried beans smothered in plenty of red and/or green homemade salsa.

The tacos each consist of two small corn tortillas topped with seasoned meat (options include beef, chicken, tongue, brain, and more….I’ll pass on the brain, thank you), onion and cilantro, with optional garnishes of radish, lime and jalapeno on the side. And at a buck twenty-five each, they’re the best value in town, period.

The El Rey Taco Truck in Marysville
The El Rey taco truck is located (for now anyway) just west of I-5 off exit 199, on the left shortly after you enter the Tulalip Reservation. I think it’s at the third stoplight after you make the left turn at the end of the I-5 off-ramp. But don’t blink, you could miss it.

Blues, Brews (And a Couple of Boos)

2009-08-18T17:58:00.000-07:00

I’ll preface by saying that the reason for this event is a worthy one. It was a benefit for the Lincoln Theater in Mount Vernon, a downtown theater that has bucked the trend of what happens to old theaters and is still relevant in hosting everything from classic films to concerts to plays. In that sense, I feel good that our 20 bucks each went to a good cause. We need to keep more "Lincoln Theaters" alive.

Having said this though, I’m wondering if the organizers of the Porterhouse Brewfest would be able to kick things up a notch in the future regarding a couple of things.

Some of the action under the tasting tent

First, consider the physical location of the event. It was held on a small street of approximately one block in size. I understand the desire to keep downtown business open for business on a nice Saturday afternoon, but have they considered holding the party at nearby Edgewater Park or another area with more open space?

Next, it would have been nice to have had somewhere close to the twenty breweries that were advertised to have been there. A source in the know told me that breweries are required to donate their product to the event which could explain the low turnout. It could also explain why many were pouring their darker (and too heavy for hot weather) holiday ales in August along with much of their “second tier” products.

The Alice Stuart Band performs at Brewfest '09

As for the blues end of things, the Chris Eger Band started things off at 2pm. They were decent enough with their covers of tunes such as “Crossfire” by Stevie Ray Vaughan but sagged somewhat when they went to their own material. Local blues legend Alice Stuart and her band followed and sounded great but we had to leave in the middle of the set.

It was a great charitable idea that I can get behind, but unless the festival shows signs of improving its execution I’ll probably be just as glad to give $20 to the theater directly and call it good.

Still Crooked In Kenmore

2009-08-11T16:36:00.000-07:00

Around a year ago, when I first started this blog, I wrote about the book group I was asked to be a part of in (I think) 2004. Or maybe it was 2005. The guys are always reading good things and listening to interesting music, which I’ve concluded has added a positive dimension to my life.

Two of many kids who enjoyed the concert

With this in mind one of the guys, Steven, and I hit the concert trail last Thursday to check out a band called Crooked Still at St. Edward Park in Kenmore. But in the spirit of “first things first” I took Steven on a quick tour of a two Snohomish County brewpub cathedrals. First was Scuttlebutt Brewing near the Everett marina, followed by Diamond Knot in Mukilteo (next to the Whidbey Island ferry terminal). We had IPAs at both with some pub grub at Diamond Knot. He agreed that Diamond Knot’s IPA was superior with its hoppy floral qualities and more complete body.

On to Kenmore! It was our first visit to a show there. They have a nifty little free summer concert series in an open field with a minimal but functional plywood stage.

We easily found our way toward the front rows and plopped down on the grass as the surrounding crowd opened picnic baskets while their kids burned off some energy on the expansive site.
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Steven enjoying the scene

Crooked Still, by their own definition, are an alternative bluegrass band. The 5-member ensemble (vocals, banjo, cello, fiddle, bass) mainly play their own material but occasionally dip into some stuff by music legends such as Robert Johnson and Bill Monroe.

The first thing that struck me after they took the stage was how young they looked. Couldn’t be because I’m getting older, right? Right. They are in fact young. Picture bluegrass musicians in your mind for a moment and chances are you’ll conjure up an image of Roy Clark. These kids are in their twenties. In fact, the cellist was celebrating his 23rd birthday that night.

Intermission on the big stage
The music was upbeat and lively after a false start or two with the guy who was at the sound board, the weather was warm but overcast (not that I’m complaining or anything since I’m the kind of guy who’s liable to make his retirement home in Nova Scotia), and the crowd was obviously having a good time even if most weren’t familiar with the band.

The 2 hour performance ended promptly at 8 pm and we were back in Marysville by nine. I’ll have to keep this place on my radar screen for next year, too. Free is good. Free high quality live music in a nice outdoor venue is better. Good on ya, Kenmore.

Here's a sound clip from the show. Unfortunately the sound quality on my Pentax digital camera is severely lacking (hey, that's not what I bought it for though) but I'll post it anyway.

Guemes Island Gathering

2009-08-02T10:51:00.000-07:00

Every summer since well-before BowlingJoe’s hair started to turn grey, BowlingWidow’s family has had a summer gathering at her dad’s place on the west shore of Guemes Island, WA. August 1st was the sunny date of this year’s edition and somewhere around 35 people showed up.

It seems like just the other day that we were twenty-somethings going to this event with Muffinheadedboy toddling around. Now many of the grandkids are busy in high school, college and careers of their own. There are still a few tykes running around to keep us “mature adults” amused though.

Activities have changed somewhat, too. Gone are the days of those horseshoe bracket tournaments that were organized. The last few years have seen a guerrilla soccer game break out in the yard by the beach. A sign of the times, I suppose. Kids (under 21) vs. adults. Who won? That depends entirely on who you ask.

One thing is a constant, however. The barbecue grills are always peaking at full capacity during the lunch hour. This year my co-Grillin’ Guy, Earl (known to many as Grey Squirrel) and I put on some salmon filets instead of the usual burger and hot dog combination. It turned out pretty well and, like last year, no cases of food poisoning were reported. Although bear in mind that it’s been less than 24 hours as I write this.

The only casualty that can be reported, in fact, is a sunburn to my neck and face. It seems that the SPF 30 sunscreen powder that my sister-in-law Jill claimed to be effective was little more than foundation makeup. It would have worked successfully if I were filming a scene but was rendered ineffective against those cunning ultraviolet rays.

Here are a few pictures and a video clip from the day. From top to bottom:

Blake (left) and Kick (my father in law, as always an enthusiastic host) pose for the camera…..The Grey Squirrel with everything he needs for a good time…...Group photo of whoever happened to be around at the time…...Soccer video clip.

Forecast: 85-Degrees, Sunny, and a Chance of Strikes

2009-07-26T09:25:00.000-07:00

Editor's Note: For the first time ever on this blog.....video clips! They're a bit dark because I had to rely on whatever indoor light I had. Which wasn't much.

It’s the middle of July. It’s eight-five degrees and sunny. So what does a guy like BowlingJoe do on his day off? Why, drive to Secoma Lanes in Federal Way, WA and spend a few hours indoors at a bowling center watching some PBA Regional action, of course.

I headed south mainly to lend support to a couple of PBA friends from the Greater Snohomish County area who were trying to repeatedly send ten pins in the pit in hopes of finishing high on the leaderboard and cashing in on some prize money.

BowlingJoe dispenses valuable pre-game advice to Shawn (left) and Matt

One of the guys, Shawn Minnig, I had the pleasure of coaching during a stint I had a few years ago with the Marysville-Pilchuck High School team. Shawn has since become a great student of the sport, worked on both his physical and mental approach to it and, at the ripe age of 23, is now giving me advice on matching equipment up with lane conditions (and I’m happy to accept it). Smart kid. He has a calm and positive mindset, something that’s really useful during the ups and downs of a bowling tournament. It takes some of us (yeah, that would include me) many years to learn that, if in fact we ever do. I’ve always thought that if there’s any justice in the world, nice guys who are dedicated players would win bowling tournaments more often. And if that’s the case, it’ll be just a matter of time before Shawn cashes the giant cardboard check.

Shawn Minnig: A "brooklyn" strike but a strike nonetheless

The other individual is Matt Surina. Matt has been a PBA member for 30-something years and has a few national titles to his credit, and is still cashing checks regularly on the regional circuit. Back in the 1970’s, I’d never miss watching the Pro Bowler’s Tour on ABC-TV and I’d see Surina on the tube every now and then with Chris Schenkel and Nelson Burton Jr. calling the action. So I felt fortunate when he turned up at Evergreen Lanes in Everett a few years ago and bought the pro shop. He accurately and meticulously drills my bowling equipment these days. Matt is hopelessly devoted to bowling and also happens to have one of the best (and most cerebral) senses of humor in the sport. His wife, Joyce, was telling me about a time when he called a hotel desk to give him a “go to sleep call” at 9 pm (as opposed to a “wake up call”). And they did it. Stephen Wright could use some of this guy’s material.

Matt Surina: A strike and a pose

The tournament also had some national flavor. Walter Ray Williams Jr., arguably the greatest bowler of all time with 45 national titles, was there to bowl and conduct some clinics. Overall, he had a pretty decent tournament. I think he finished fourth but when I watched one of his games, he shot a paltry 165 and could not stay away from leaving splits on lane 29.

Walter Ray Williams Jr: Ouch, another split

As for my friends Shawn and Matt: The bowling gods didn’t shine on Shawn that afternoon and he missed the cut to sixteen bowlers. And in fairness, he's been battling a hip injury that he needs to overcome. Matt, bowling in the senior division, finished just out of the money. But the silver lining for them both is that, as long as one can stand on the approach with bowling ball in hand, there will be another tournament on another day in which all of the combatants start out with the same score.

The tournament, and a $4000 payday, was ultimately won by lefty (the right-hander's natural enemy) and fellow Boeing employee Erik Hohlbein. If Shawn or Matt couldn’t win, I guess I can feel good that someone who wears the Boeing Blue did.

Clash Of The Tartans

2009-07-19T10:00:00.000-07:00

On a hot and sunny Saturday earlier in the month, BowlingWidow and I headed north to Mount Vernon to meet some friends, Jim, Stephanie and their toddler daughter Katie at the annual Scottish Highland Games Festival. Being that (a) I’ve never been to anything like that and (b) my last name of Clark is the fourteenth most common surname in Scotland, it was clearly time to make an appearance.

Stephanie, born a MacAlister, is an experienced veteran at these kinds of things so we followed her around as she basked in her ancestral glory and got her credit card out to shop for all things Scottish.

The first thing we did was to make our way to the tent to look up the Clark tartan. I like the blue pattern. It worked for me and I didn’t need to take it a step further to the MacPherson and Cameron clan tartans which are in some way related to the Clarks.

The Clark Tartan: Looks Even Better After a McEwan's Ale

There was a lot of music going on at this place. Harps, fiddles and of course bagpipes. Lots of bagpipes. If you’re the kind of person who gets annoyed by just a couple of bagpipes you’d want to steer clear of the groups of twenty of them and go get a traditional Scottish meat pie. Which were quite good, by the way.

The “games” mentioned in the name of this event including piping, drumming, dancing and athletics. You’ve probably at some point seen pictures or videos of some muscle-bound Scot in a kilt tossing a large telephone pole-like object. That’s called the caber toss and they were doing that, too.

The highlight of the day for Katie was the inflatable wading pool filled with soapy water that one can use with a bubble wand to float some impressive bubbles. She elected to be a human bubble wand, however, requiring a complete change of clothes prior to exiting the grounds.

Stephanie, Jim, and Katie at The Highland Games

As we walked back to the car, I realized that I never was able to answer the most important question of all: do they actually wear anything underneath those kilts?

Come to think of it, I’ll let the experts try and answer that one.

All Roads Lead To…..Tacoma???

2009-07-09T18:52:00.000-07:00

In a previous blog, I wrote about my growing disdain for fireworks. Not all fireworks. Just the ones that produce extremely loud noises at the most inopportune times. Such as a series of M-80 dynamite sticks that detonate at 5 minute intervals from midnight to 3am at the school playground next to our house.

So we thought, “why fight it?” and decided to head to some nearby downtown area for a couple of days to sit it out and hope we wouldn’t return to a smoldering pile of ashes that was once our house. Going to Tacoma (or "Ta-Compton" as our son says) to avoid gunshot-like noise seems counter intuitive at first glance but we figured every city has something good to see and we’d never given Tacoma a fair shake despite living an hour and a half away.

We stayed at The Hotel Murano (Murano is a Venetian island that’s well known for its glass art). Tripadvisor.com rated it the number one hotel in Tacoma and we were able to get it for a good rate. It’s recently been remodeled and is adorned with glass sculptures. Glass art is everywhere in Tacoma, no doubt inspired by native son, the well known Dale Chihuly.

An artful glass canopy: sorta kinda like being undersea
Pacific Avenue, just west of the Tacoma Dome, is the happening place in town (at least for a couple of late 40-somethings anyhow). On a four block stretch, you'll find The Museum of Glass, Museum of Washington State History and Union Station. There are also some quaint coffeehouses, bookstores and restaurants including The Harmon Brewing Company. We hit the Harmon for lunch upon arrival and were disappointed that they were out of their India Pale Ale (IPA). Not to worry. Not only did they have a perfectly (and lightly) carbonated Extra Special Bitter (ESB), it was on sale for just $1 for a 10 ounce glass. Needless to say, we had more than one to wash down our lunches.

After checking out some sites and a rest at the hotel it was on to another brewpub for dinner, Engine House #9. This place has been around a long time and we remembered visiting 20 years ago before they were actually making their own brew. We ordered IPAs to go with dinner and were underwhelmed. They were average at best with a slightly grainy taste. The chicken soft taco I had, however, was exquisite.

The Harmon Brewing Company: best beer in Tacoma

The next day, July 4th, we headed north 15 miles to Auburn and Emerald Downs racetrack. Enough said here. The horses weren’t in a charitable mood (at least from my perspective anyway) and we ended up making a $50 “donation” to the track. The rest of the waning Independence Day hours were spent rounding up some fast food chow mein and watching a local fireworks display from the hotel room window.

And when we drove back home we were amazed to see our house. Just as we had left it and not burned to the ground.
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Mt. Rainier on a clear day from Emerald Downs

I Was a Middle-Aged Radio Station Intern

2009-06-26T19:30:00.000-07:00

It was time to pay up. Several weeks ago, at an exhibition bowling tournament in Lynnwood, I was throttled in a head-to-head bet I made with the sponsor’s host, KRKO radio’s Jeff “The Fish” Aaron. As it turned out, spotting him 45 pins a game (or whatever it was) wasn’t the most brilliant move I’ve ever made. Despite the fact that he was using a bowling ball that was quite literally falling apart, he demonstrated an ability to record strikes no matter how hideous things looked on the pin deck. But in all honesty, I have only myself to blame after posting what was probably the worst 3-game set I’ve tallied in several years.

What did it cost me? Six hours of being his whipping-boy and unpaid intern for his sports and “whatever the hell else he feels like talking about” show 3 to 6 With the Fish. Although I’d never lose a match deliberately, I knew that this was at least a task that would be interesting to me. Back in the olden days of college at CWU in Ellensburg WA, I had a weekly gig on the campus radio station, KCAT. We’re talking vinyl records, carts (kind of like 8-track tapes), and short circuiting soundboards. Those days are long gone with digital everything in these times.

Here are some highlights (and lowlights) of the day:

12:10 pm: I arrive at the lobby of the station in downtown Everett. The Fish is hustling out the door to attend a press conference at Comcast Arena. The Everett Silvertips hockey team hired a new coach and they were unveiling him for the media. I tag along.

12:42 pm: The Silvertips owner talks about what a great place Everett is and proceeds to congratulate Boeing on its upcoming test flight of the 787 Dreamliner. Oops. Apparently he didn’t get the memo stating that Boeing scrapped the flight several hours earlier.
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The Fish's workspace: reminds me of my kid's bedroom

1:22 pm: We make it back to the station. Fish immediately puts me to work writing trivia questions for an appearance he has later that night. He loves the work I did on U.S. State trivia, but throws up on my effort for Wimbledon trivia calling it “boring” and sending me back for more research.

1:53 pm: Melene, the station’s general sales manager, spots me walking around the office and thinks I’m an intruder. She offers me some bottled water, hoping I’m not there to rob the place.

2:28 pm: I continue to write trivia questions and do some research on celebrity birthdays for the week. Former Washington Husky and NFL kicker Chuck Nelson drops by the cubicle area to say hi to the Fish. Seems like a nice guy. The three of us spend a few minutes talking about obscure former pro kickers and how much their names sound like those of terrorists.

2:37 pm: The Fish asks me to make 20 copies of trivia answer forms for that night’s contestants. Two minutes go by and I’ve completely forgotten this, misplacing the originals in the process.
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Josh, the producer of the show doing his thing

3:03 pm: I’m still working on my assignment as the show starts. Given the big hockey news of the day, Fish is in studio right away for a live interview with the new coach, Craig Hartsburg, instead of the usual tomfoolery that ensues during the first half hour.

3:20 pm: After the first segment, the Fish is spotted outside the studio hugging an attractive young lady. A groupie?!?! I think nothing of it and take a couple of pictures of Fish and the new coach for the station a few minutes later.

3:26 pm: I go into the adjacent studio with Josh, the producer of the show, put on the headphones and belly-up to the mike. It turns out that the young lady is someone who is in a tavern dart league with Fish and is introduced to the listening audience only as The Dart Queen.

3:31 pm: Fish introduces me and asks me if I’d like to give The Dart Queen a massage. Knowing that my wife, BowlingWidow, is listening I skillfully dodge the question.
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Maury (left) and The Fish in between segments
3:48 pm: Time for ace salesman Maury "Movies with Maury" Eskenazi to do his thing. He reviews the new Jack Black film "Day One" and "The Proposal" with Sandra Bullock. Maury is disappointed by "Day One" but likes "The Proposal" much to the disgust of the Fish who is clearly not a fan of Sandra Bullock.

4:15 pm: I go back to working on all things trivial while the Fish interviews a meth addict turned mixed martial arts star named Lyle "Fancy Pants" Beerbohm. Probably just as well that I missed it since I have no interest whatsoever in that particular form of entertainment. In between tasks I chat with Ronna in the sales department and give her the photos I took earlier for download onto Fish's website.

5:10 pm: The Fish makes a point of telling his audience that I screwed up my one day internship by failing to make copies when he asked (see 2:37 pm entry) and compares my work to the rest of the deadbeat student interns that he has to deal with. I base my excuse on age-related deterioration of brain cells.

5:23 pm: I finally get to read my “factoid” on the air, defined for this purpose as a short sports fact designed to impress people at parties and get them to say “gee, I didn’t know that.” It’s a requirement for all of his interns. Mine was:

During a one month time frame in 1965, Jack Nicklaus won the Masters, Willie Shoemaker rode the winner of the Kentucky Derby, the Boston Celtics won the NBA title and the Montreal Canadiens won the Stanley Cup.

Twenty-one years later, in 1986, history repeated itself as Nicklaus won the Masters at age 46, Shoemaker rode Ferdinand into the winners circle at the Kentucky Derby, and the Celtics and the Canadiens both won titles again.

BowlingJoe and The Fish: November 2005 at Husky Stadium

5:25 pm: Neither Fish or Producer Josh can think of anything insulting to say about the factoid as they do for most of their interns. I consider this a victory.

5:30 pm: We say our on air goodbyes. I point out that I’ll have a shot at redemption at his next bowling tournament. He responds with a terse “don’t count on it.” Game on, Fish!

5:33 pm: The remainder of the show is on tape. Fish sneaks out of the studio to get ready for trivia night. I head for home, glad that I was able to end my career as a middle-aged radio station intern on my own terms. Without getting fired.

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3-6 With the Fish can be heard Monday through Friday from 3:00 pm to 6:00 pm (no kidding?) on KRKO AM 1380 from Everett, WA.

San Francisco - Day 4 (5/29/09)

2009-06-04T17:06:00.000-07:00

Our final morning in San Francisco, after a quick bagel and coffee breakfast, was spent touring and roaming around Chinatown. At around 1.7 square miles it’s the largest (and also the oldest) Chinatown outside of Asia.

Frank Jang: Chinatown Tour Guide Extraordinaire
We decided to be a part of a walking and eating tour for a few hours that was organized by a company called Wok Wiz. A strange name for a tour company but they really delivered. Our tour guide (and we were fortunate to be a part of a small tour of eight) was Frank Jang. He gave us some great background and historical information regarding Chinatown that framed the experience for us. Although he now lives in nearby San Mateo, Frank grew up right smack in the middle of Chinatown and also conveyed some very interesting personal stories about his childhood and how the district has changed (as well as stayed the same) over the years.

Getting ready for the tea cupping at Red Blossom Teas
One thing that was nice about the tour is that we didn’t hurriedly go through the area but instead stopped for several minutes to learn more about the place we happened to be visiting. This was true for a Chinese art dealer, a fortune cookie factory, an herbalist, an acupuncturist, a barber, a grocer, and a tea retailer. There were probably others, I just can’t recall.

The tour concluded at the Four Seas Restaurant on Grant Avenue for dim sum. This restaurant may or may not have been our choice had it not been a part of the tour. It was certainly decent and we had plenty of the usual things: dumplings, pot stickers, rice noodles, chow fun. And, by request, they even served a plate of chicken feet for me. Tasty, but not much meat.

A Little Bit of Shopping in Chinatown
After the tour proper, we ventured around on our own for a couple of hours of shopping and looking around. We picked up some ginger candy and a Christmas ornament, as well as some very good oolong tea which we shipped home.

Grace Cathedral From California Street

Chinatown was more than worth spending several hours at, and with our flight home just around the corner we hopped the California Street Cable Car for a quick visit to Grace Cathedral. This amazingly large city block-sized building was founded in 1849, the year of the California Gold Rush. In addition to regularly scheduled services, a lot of other events take place there as well. While we were there, for example, there was a jazz group setting up for a concert later that night. And several years ago, my friend Dave Nachmanoff performed a concert with Al Stewart that I happen to own on DVD.

Stained Glass Inside of Grace Cathedral
We headed back to the hotel to pick up our things and take BART back to the airport, tired but happy that we had seen and done just about as much as possible in just a little over three days. We could have easily spent three more and stayed busy.

I’ll close with some thoughts about the city in case anyone will be visiting for the first time:

• Pack warm clothes. Even on a nice day it gets cold at night. I never did change into my shorts or thong (well…except for that time in the Castro District but that’s another blog for another day).

• Use the BART and Muni systems as much as possible (Cable Cars are part of the Muni system, too). And spend the three bucks on the Muni system map. Cars have their place in most of California but don’t bother with them unless you’re heading to wine country or something.

• Fisherman’s Wharf is just another trendy area. And they don’t make Ghirardelli chocolate there anymore. And while I’m on this topic, skip Haight-Ashbury unless you have a burning desire to see where the Grateful Dead lived for a couple of years (710 Ashbury St.)

• San Francisco has hills. Lots of them. And lots of stairs. Bring good shoes.

• Must see: Alcatraz Island, Chinatown, North Beach (Italian) Neighborhood, Coit Tower (including the stair walk), and the Golden Gate Bridge. And if you’re a baseball fan and it’s spring or summer, AT&T Park.

• Shop around for good air and hotel rates (Entertainment Books, Travelocity, hotels.com, etc.). Our hotel, for example, was around one-third of the going rate when economic times are good.

• The restaurants are generally amazing. To fine tune your choices, consult some good websites with reviews by real people like you and me, such as yelp.com and chowhound.com.

• We found the people in San Francisco (with the exception of one surly bus driver) to be very helpful. More than once, someone asked if they could help us find somewhere even when we simply LOOKED like we needed an answer.

One Last Ride!

San Francisco - Day 3 (5/28/09)

2009-06-03T17:03:00.000-07:00

The Golden Gate Bridge & The Fog: San Francisco's Dynamic Duo

On Thursday morning we took a Muni bus to the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, ground zero of the Summer of Love, in an effort to “make the scene”. That was all fine and good, but nobody told us we were around 40 years too late.

A Haight-Ashbury Neighborhood Scene

Other than the unique shoe stores, head shops and other memorabilia places, I’m afraid that the only scene to be made there is at the Ben and Jerry’s or the mega-huge CD store called Amoeba. We did, however, manage to land a nice breakfast at a place called The Pork Store Café on Haight Street that used to in fact be a pork store.

BowlingJoe: Too Late to Make the Scene

We walked a few blocks west and entered Golden Gate Park. This park is huge. Over 1000 acres huge. Our focus would be on the serene Japanese Tea Garden. At least it was serene until the busloads of elementary school students arrived. The garden includes a pagoda, some nice landscaping, scenic bridges and trails. A nice way to spend and hour and a half (provided you can avoid the throngs of 6th graders).

A Scene From The Japanese Tea Garden

Next up was our most physical challenge as we walked across the Golden Gate Bridge and back. Well….we walked to where the land was directly below us in Marin County anyway, and that was a good enough 4 mile trek for us. It’s an impressive old structure (we happened to be walking on it on the 72nd anniversary of its debut) and it’s darned breezy and noisy with all of the traffic whizzing by. We were surprised by the volume of people and bicyclists from all over the world who were with us on an unassuming Thursday afternoon.

Just Before the Bridge Crossing

After conquering the Golden Gate, we got on a bus to take us back into town. Or at least that was the plan anyway. The driver must have been having a bad day because she was clearly moving in the opposite direction as we were initially told. After a quick exit we got on the correct streetcar to take us back to the hotel.

The Ferry Building Market Place

Dinner time. BowlingWidow tracked down a place at The Ferry Building Marketplace on the water near the Embarcadero Center. We were too early to go to the restaurant proper of the Vietnamese place called The Slanted Door, but they offered a take-out option with the same food at a place around the corner called “Out the Door”. And it was of exemplary quality as we sat at their small counter and enjoyed it. The spring rolls were fresh and the combination of vegetables, meat and ginger dipping sauce was perfect. The 5-spice chicken with vermicelli noodles was a delicious main course.

Out the Door: Top Notch Vietnamese Take Out

Chinatown tomorrow!

San Francisco - Day 2 (5/27/09)

2009-06-02T16:57:00.000-07:00

The Rock: Alcatraz Island

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I watched the movie “The Rock” a few weeks ago in anticipation of our half-day excursion to Alcatraz Island. In one of the opening scenes, a rogue U.S. military officer and his subjects seize modern day Alcatraz, slamming shut the prison bars on a group of unsuspecting tourists and taking them hostage. Needless to say, I was hoping they wouldn’t be filming the sequel while we were there.
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BowlingJoe in jail where he belongs
We woke up on Wednesday and headed to breakfast at one of the oldest places to eat in San Francisco, Sears Fine Food (circa 1938). After last night’s pizza it was best to take on something tame like oatmeal. Sears was okay and somewhat pricey as we thought they put a premium on their longevity.

Alcatraz Island was a worthwhile and historically significant destination despite the fact that we were shuffled into a couple of different queues starting 45 minutes or so before boarding the ferry that would take us there. I won’t attempt to give any history lessons here but a couple of things struck us about the self guided tour we took with the headphones: First, those prison cells were really small and sparse. And if you’re someone who is insistent upon privacy in the bathroom, well…..forget it. Second, it really must have messed with the prisoners’ minds knowing that freedom was a couple of miles away and they could see (and even hear) it.
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Never pass up a chance for an In-N-Out Burger
Walking around Alcatraz can work up an appetite. And since it was lunch time, we headed into and past the chic, pricey Fisherman’s Wharf restaurants (if you have limited time in San Francisco and skip The Wharf, you’re not missing much) and on to In-N-Out Burger. For our money this is the best hamburger-fries combination fast food in the country. We try to visit at least once when we’re on the road in the Southwest. The burgers are fresh and tasty, while the fries were potatoes that morning.

After lunch we put ourselves on a bus to the Coit Tower, a structure built in 1933 atop Telegraph Hill. There are some terrific views of the city from the hill and even better ones from the top of the tower. Unfortunately we never got there. The elevator was broken and there were a couple of guys from Otis Elevators attempting to fix it. It occurred to me that I may have just discovered another legitimate definition of coitus interruptus. So we ended up biding our time taking in the depression-era fresco murals on the ground floor of the tower.
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SF city view from Telegraph Hill
Instead of taking a bus down the hill, we stumbled upon a faster and far more interesting way to travel: The Filbert Stairs. They’re steep, many blocks long; they go through vegetation, past residences and are a lot of fun – to go down. I need oxygen by just thinking about how tough the going would be if we were punishing ourselves by going up them.
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One of the fresco murals at Coit Tower
After a much needed hour rest at the hotel, we took a Muni train to AT&T Park, home of the San Francisco Giants and headed to the nearby 21st Amendment Brewery for an ale prior to checking out the stadium digs. We circumnavigated the stadium before actually going in and found it to be a pleasant walk, particularly on the other side of the right field fence, strolling along the water at what’s known as “McCovey Cove”. The Cove is a popular splash landing spot for home runs and long foul balls and attracts the attention of kayakers and other boaters with fish nets during games.
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A steep section of the daunting Filbert Stairs
AT&T Park is clearly on the upper tier of the new baseball stadiums, although I’d rank it slightly lower than our own Safeco Field, mainly due to the fact that you can see the game at the Safe from pretty much anywhere along the first level concourses. The food, however, is better and more diverse than what you can get at Seattle’s ballpark (it is San Francisco after all). BowlingWidow went with the tried and true garlic fries and sausage dog with veggies combo. I went with the chicken and rice Cha Cha Bowl from former Giant Orlando Cepeda’s eatery past centerfield. Very good stuff. Orlando even had the good sense to have an optional habanero sauce to go with it.
If you go to a game and it’s at night, make sure you dress accordingly as it gets really cold, a fairly common theme throughout the city. Oh, yeah….the Giants beat the Atlanta Braves by a score of 6-3 as ex-Mariner (and isn’t everyone an ex-Mariner?) Randy Johnson won his 299th career game.
Top: AT&T Park
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Center: Orlando's - Home of the Cha Cha Bowl
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Below: Giant glove and Coke bottle from behind the right field wall

San Francisco - Day One (5/26/09)

2009-05-31T19:01:00.000-07:00

“Attention passengers”, the voice of the airport concourse public address system said. “Today’s flight to San Francisco is being delayed, as a screw and bracket assembly is required to repair a window on the flight deck.” Great. We’re all being held hostage by a parts kit that probably cost $1.29 to manufacture. I won’t publicly say the name of the airline in question, instead choosing simply to say that it rhymes with “Malaska”.

Two hours later, a little after 2:00 pm, we were out of the gate and on our way to start a three-day whirlwind tour of San Francisco. In retrospect, I guess that if we avoided a cockpit catastrophe at 30,000 feet because of a leaky window it was worth a couple of hours and a few turns of a screwdriver.

The Galleria Park: great hotel, great location
Fortunately the remainder of the flight was smooth and uneventful. We made our way to the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) terminal at the San Francisco Airport for a half-hour ($5.35) ride to the downtown Montgomery Street Station. A word about BART: They’re frequent, they’re fast and they’re cheap (at least until the transit authorities raise fares to try and get out of the financial mess that every place in California is in). We really wish that Seattle would have gotten the hint in the 70s and 80s and been proactive enough to have done something like this. Imagine an elliptical route from Everett to Tacoma that goes around Lake Washington...

The first order of business at Montgomery Station was to purchase a couple of three-day Muni (local bus/train passes) for $18 each and a $3 detailed map. The map is well worth having even if you think you know where you’re going. The Muni system is excellent but along with it comes a lot of detail and the map is a must have.

Our hotel, The Galleria Park, was located an easy block and a half from the station. It was particularly easy because we only brought carry-on luggage with us. The Galleria Park is in a perfect location, in the Financial District at 191 Sutter Street. It’s an older property but has been recently updated, is clean, and the staff was awesome. And it was a bargain as we used our Entertainment Book to land a rate that was less than $100 a night. The only knock? The rooms are quite small as they tend to be in older hotels, but for us it was an extremely minor point.

The brick oven in action at Tommaso's
We walked in a northwest direction along Kearny Street and found the San Francisco Brewing Company. This is a fairly small brewpub that looked like it was frequented by mostly locals. The India Pale Ales we ordered were thirst quenching but didn’t quite have the same hop levels and body that we’ve grown accustomed to at home.

It was on to dinner. We were looking for a reasonably priced Italian restaurant that was in the good graces of the locals and served excellent pizza. Prior to leaving, we searched yelp.com for such a dining establishment and we found it in Tommaso’s in the North Beach part of town. We shared a Caesar salad (average at best) but were more than rewarded with one of the best brick oven pizzas we’ve ever had. Simply topped with sauce, cheese, basil, oregano and garlic, we ate it all and had a happy walk back to the hotel to call it a night in anticipation of the trip to Alcatraz Island the next morning.

Day two coming up...

BowlingWidow in front of the restaurant after dinner

It Ain't Easy Bein' Cheesy

2009-05-17T18:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, so maybe I stole the title line from that famous feline philosopher, Chester Cheetah. But unlike Chester I'm not hawking Cheetos. This was better. Way better.

It was a nice Sunday afternoon and we were able to get most of our outdoor chores done yesterday before and after watching what was a great Preakn ess horse race on TV. As BowlingWidow was quick to point out, a "girl" horse won that particular race for the first time in 85 years.

A scene from one of the many tasting lines at the Cheese Festival

This weekend was the annual Seattle Cheese Festival at the Pike Place Market in Seattle. It's a tradition that has only been going on for a few years but we hadn't been there yet so we jumped at an impromptu chance to show up.

If we learned one thing today it's that cheese is very popular. Particularly when they're giving out free samples. There must have been 50 cheese makers there, ranging in size from Tillamook to the tiny Samish Bay Cheese Company in Bow, WA. And they came from as far away as the state of New York (Yancey's, from which we bought some really tasty extra sharp cheddar).

Some favorites: we couldn't stop ourselves from buying them

I can't begin to rattle off all of the different types of cheeses but they were all there: Gouda, Dubliner, Gorganzola, Parmigiano-Reggiano, Asiago and so on. There were cheeses with Merlot in them as well as one with a wasabi/horseradish combination.

After sampling around 25 cheeses each and purchasing a few of our favorites, we concluded the afternoon with a pint of ale at the nearby Pike Place Brewery.

Yeah, it was a pretty good day.

Fear and Bowling in Las Vegas

2009-04-21T19:04:00.000-07:00

In 1975 the band Supertramp released an album called “Crisis? What Crisis?”. That particular album title was running through my head as I rode the slow shuttle from McCarren Airport in Las Vegas to my hotel, The Golden Nugget, on Fremont Street in “old” downtown Vegas. The shuttle was not slow due to any severely restricted speed limits. It was slow because of the thousands of vehicles and pedestrians that were clogging Las Vegas Boulevard, a.k.a. The Strip. If there is a nasty recession going on in this country, a large chunk of Vegas doesn’t seem to be participating.

I was in town for the 2009 U.S. Bowling Congress National Tournament. Every year, somewhere in the country, 80,000 of my closest bowling friends will cycle through during a five-month (or so) window hoping to tally some singles, doubles, and team scores that will give us a dose of feel-good bowling ball-tossing pride as well as a few bucks to go along with it. I’ve been going for a few years now as part of a group of 20 combatants who are brilliantly organized by my friend Brian from the South Puget Sound. More on that in a couple of minutes.

After finally arriving at The Nugget, I went to check into my room, only to see somebody else opening the door. He had been there for a couple of days so I was clearly the victim of a check-in desk mistake. No harm, no foul as I got a new room.

2009 Miss USA Contestants: Sorry ladies, I'm married

I headed to the Sports Book to meet my friend and co-worker Tony (who wasn’t in Vegas to bowl, but could have been here to fit a snitch with a pair of cement shoes). We had beers for $2 a piece as we watched the end of the Masters golf tournament and decided which games to put a few dollars on in the next couple of days.

Much to our surprise, all 51 of the Miss USA pageant contestants (the big show was last Sunday) made an appearance at the pool of the Golden Nugget. Being a married man, however, BowlingJoe had to disappoint all of them by saying 51 times that he couldn’t be their date for the evening.

After a ten dollar prime rib meal it was time to take a cab to Caesar’s where Elton John was headlining. We were in the “cheap” hundred dollar seats in the comfy 4300 seat venue. I really didn’t know what to expect but I’ll say this about Elton John: he can still deliver the music at the age of 62 (although he seemed to get a bit winded whenever he left his piano to walk around the stage). The sound quality was excellent and he had his original drummer and guitarist with him. And the hits, from “Bennie and the Jets” through “I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues”, kept on coming. The giant inflatable boobs on stage were a bit weird but, hey, it is Vegas after all.

BowlingJoe with what could be the worst looking Elvis in Vegas

We caught a cab back to the hotel and watched The Fremont Experience, a huge music and video show displayed on the inside of a two block long canopy. It was time to call it a night at around 12:30am.

I got up at around 7:30am and at around 9 I called Tony, hoping to meet him at the buffet or somewhere for breakfast. There was no answer so I immediately wondered if somehow HE was the one who was “sleeping with the fish”. I had one of the all time best omelettes ever and he finally did show up as I was about to leave.

The team event was that afternoon, Brian and his wife Kim were kind enough to pick me up at the hotel and give me (and my bowling equipment) a lift to the Cashman Center where the tournament was being held. As it turned out, I didn’t bowl particularly well but was surrounded by some awesome teammates who did, and we’ll certainly cash in that event. Sometimes you help carry the team and sometimes you’re the guy riding in the back of the rickshaw, as it’s unusual for all five bowlers to be firing on all cylinders all the time. At any rate my Boys Night Out #2 team of Darrin, John, Conrad, and Jim were talented and a lot of fun to bowl with.

A fine team....that even has matching red shirts!
After another cheap steak dinner, I looked over at Tony, and his tank was clearly empty after two nights in a row (he got there the day before me) of the Vegas experience. If it were a boxing match I would have given him a standing eight count and stopped the fight. He went off to his room and crashed hard, while I did some souvenir shopping for an hour and did the same.

Tuesday's singles and doubles events were pretty much of a bowling train wreck except for a lone 256 game that I managed to roll and save a semi-respectable three-game set of 550. Nic was a fine doubles partner but both of us struggled in two of our games and we both vowed to make up for it next year.

BowlingJoe dreaming in color
In singles, well...there are probably some physics and kinetic reasons that I tallied an embarrassing 424 series, but to simply say that I missed a lot of easy spares and generally bowled like doggy-doo pretty much tells it all. It was so bad that I briefly considered renaming this blog to "BlowingJoe".

At that point it was back to the hotel to meet the recovering Tony and hail a taxi back to the airport. Like many who have tried before me, including Hunter S. Thompson, I went to Las Vegas looking for the Heart of the American Dream and came up empty.

Perhaps I'll find it a few hundred miles north next year when we return for the 2010 tournament in Reno.

BowlingJoe on the approach with much of the "crew of 20" in the background: things went well that day until I released the ball. (Thanks, Kent, for capturing the shot)

Separated At Birth: Revisited

2009-04-15T10:43:00.000-07:00

I need to take care of some unfinished business as I contemplate writing about the Las Vegas bowling trip I just returned from. A while back I blogged about myself and comedian Frank Caliendo who, according to some, is actually my (much younger) double.

I opened it up for anyone who has a similar "Separated at Birth" situation and managed to garner one from BowlingWidow's co-worker, Joe , the brains behind the Captain ILL blog.

Once again, you be the judge. Separated at birth? The "Other Joe" as a baby and Winston Churchill?

Yoga Joe

2009-04-01T19:36:00.000-07:00

The staff association where BowlingWidow works recently organized a weekly yoga class that they’re holding on Monday afternoons from 5 to 6 pm. My idea of exercise is to put the iPod ear buds in and hit the elliptical machine for 30 minutes at the Boeing Recreation Center. Doing bendy things has never been my forte.

Still, when she asked me whether or not to pick up an extra yoga mat for last Monday, I gave her an emphatic “yes” and told her I was ready for the challenge. Until now, the closest I’d been to a yoga experience was listening to George Harrison albums while burning musk incense in my twenties. These days though, the biggest question I had was, “Will stretching and getting in touch with my inner self translate into more pinfall on the bowling hardwoods?”

We arrived on time in our sweats, unrolled the mats and took our shoes off. We had to sign a waiver agreeing not to hold the workplace liable in the event that something very bad happens. Great, they were expecting me to snap like a pretzel stick .

Being "bendy" is a struggle for some of us
The instructor introduced himself to the class. He was probably in his early 50s and looked to be in great shape, like he’s been doing this for a long time. He was soft-spoken and seemed “enlightened” to me, as though he’d been sniffing some musk incense of his own. His demeanor and phrasing reminded me of the late Bob Ross. You remember him. The frizzy haired artist on public television who liked to paint “happy little clouds” and trees and mountains…..

He started us out by sitting with our legs folded, doing a few sustained movements and poses from that position. Actually it was more than just a few. I looked at the clock and nearly 15 minutes had gone by. He told us to relax and take in the ambiance of our surroundings. I had a hard time with that since I was feeling like two teams of NFL linebackers were having a tug of war contest with banjo string-tight muscles in both my hips. BowlingWidow looked at me and hoped I’d be able to stand up for the next set of exercises. I was thinking the same thing.

Next up were a series of poses in which we were asked to balance on one leg. Everyone in the room seemed to handle that task with ease. Everyone but me, that is. I felt like I was trying to balance on ice skates. If it weren’t for the chairs we were allowed to use “just in case” I would have made America’s Funniest Home Videos. Joe (another Joe, the creator of the fine blog apparently on hiatus, Captain ILL), the only other dude in the class, was a natural at all of this. In fact, I’m sure he attained the highest level of self-actualization.

One CAN attain self-actualization in one's pajamas
We ended the session with a series of exercises in which we were on our hands and feet, or even laying down. My kind of yoga. Again, our instructor told us to close our eyes, relax and float in space for a while. All fine and good but I never did see those “happy little clouds”. I’ll be back next time to see if I can.