One More Step in the Past

As I finish up with a lot of the background files for the site after a trip down memory lane (re: scouring a stack of back-up CDs), I chuckled with the above image.

My wife and I joined a couple of friends of ours for a night of bowling a few years back. It had been a number of years since I had the pleasure of knocking over pins. The first several games I proved to be the whipping boy for the other three. Gutter ball after gutter ball brought the cackles of my fellows. They were merciless upon me.

But never was my head down. True, I was bowling poorly, but I knew it was just rust. I had bowled strikes before. I had known what triple digits looked like beside my name. The last game of the evening was the time for me to make my mark.

The beer was all gone. The women were ready to move on. But I took up my 16-pounder and got busy.

Gert and the others stopped riding me. And deep inside I think they understood that those who speak boastfully of their prowess tend to be brought down hard. I let the scoreboard speak for me.

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