THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, January 24, 1995 TAG: 9501240027
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: By DEBRA GORDON, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 77 lines
WE WERE SUPPOSED to go ice skating.
But because every other parent and child had the same idea on this school holiday in mid-January, the skating rink had rented all its size 4 skates.
``I can wear a size 2,'' said my overgrown 8-year-old.
``I don't think so,'' I replied. And, ignoring his disappointed look, shepherded him out to the car to drive the byways of Virginia Beach looking for something else to do on this chilly, gray afternoon.
The answer: bowling.
Now you might be thinking to yourself: Bowling. How passe. How 1950s. How polyester.
But I have news for you - bowling is hot. Even upscale publications like The Economist and U.S. News and World Report say so.
First off, forget the old image of bowling alleys as cavernous, dingy, smoke-filled buildings of plastic and linoleum.
Today's alleys - or centers, as they are called - have computerized scoring systems, deep carpeting, upholstered seats, continuously whirling fans and the marketing panache of a casino.
And it's working.
On this holiday Monday in midwinter, Pinboy's of Lynnhaven is rocking. There are all ages, from babies in strollers to slow-moving seniors. And all types, from moms and their kids to great, hulking men, are polishing up their strike-producing forms.
It is so crowded that, like an overbooked airline, the loudspeaker crackles with offers of free games for players who voluntarily give up their lanes.
But there are enough shoes.
And so, throwing hygiene to the wind and slipping our feet into much-used shoes, we grabbed our balls (9 pounds for him; 11 for me) and headed to lane 16.
There's a holiday feel to the bowling centers of today. The thud of the balls hitting the gleaming lanes; the twanging of country music on the loudspeakers; the steady buzz of conversation from the beer drinkers at the table behind your lane, coupled with the dimness of the building, provide an insular coziness on this damp day.
And, as in the gambling casinos of Las Vegas, your sense of time becomes slippery. What seems like an hour is really 10 minutes; what seems like five seconds is an hour. It is easy for an entire afternoon to glide away unnoticed.
Pinboys doesn't have the lighter duck pin balls and pins, but it does have 10 lanes with blue, inflatable bumpers lining the gutters - uh, channels, as they're now called. Called ``bumper bowling,'' this type of play guarantees a higher score and less frustration (since you won't watch your ball careen down the side channels over and over again), and is great for young children just learning the game.
They also have six-pound balls, which even kids 4 or 5 years old can manage to roll down the lane.
The bumper lanes were all filled, so we took our chances on the regular lanes.
On his first ball, the kid knocked down nine pins. I knew I was in trouble. But our playing was even - I won the first game, he won the second.
On his last ball of the last game, he bowled a strike. And went running off to the reception desk yelling, ``I get a fun pack, I get a fun pack.'' As I later learned (mothers are always the last to know), if you make a strike while you have a red pin in your group of pins, you win a prize. In this case, it was a card for a free game.
The kid was ready to play again, but my wrists, weakened by years of typing, were shooting warning pains up my arms.
So I taught him pool.
Yup, just the kind of thing you want to share with your child. Just the kind of bonding experience that makes for that close, mother-son relationship. Show him how to hold the pool cue, chalk up the tip and slam the cue ball into the knot of balls at the corner of the table.
He did pretty good, my son. Even sank a few. Now, if he were only old enough to share a beer . . . by CNB