Five-Pin Bowling in Canada, eh?

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

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)

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

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.

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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

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!

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

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.