Sometimes it is inconvenient to see all of life as a metaphor. Forever exercising the capacity to make the familiar strange and the strange familiar. Everything referential to something else. It’s no wonder people avoid me at parties!

A bar at the airport. Both the bar and the airport are liminal spaces. In-between places. Neither here nor there. Doesn’t this sound like the beginning of a detective story? Waiting for our flight at this gathering place of strangers, we decided to celebrate the beginning of our trip, some much-needed time off. A break from the grind. We ordered two glasses of wine. No sense jumping into space without sampling the airport’s finest red!

With multiple games of football playing all around us, awaiting the bartender to bring us our wine, Kerri asked me if I wanted to bowl. She was already placing the tiny yellow pins and blue bowling ball on the bar. Placing our wine beside the pins the bartender said, “Well, look at you!” Apparently we were not the first people to bowl at his bar.

I was first up. I rolled the ball. It hit the pins and bounced off. I caught the ball before it rolled off the bar. Now, as metaphors for my life go, this one is frighteningly accurate. Kerri cheered, “Do it again!” as if my direct-hit-with-no-result was intentional. My wife is hysterical. She pulled out her phone and set it up to record my ineffectual nature for posterity. I complied. I rolled. You can see the result. Kerri stopped recording before she howled with laughter. She packed up the pins before taking a turn. She promptly sent to video to many of our pals. “They’re going to love this!” she giggled.

Never, ever think that I do not serve a purpose on this earth, in this life.

In a world of metaphor, one pin falling is actually worse than no pins at all. It’s like a 25 cent tip or a 1 percent salary raise. Insult to injury. As Horatio would say, “Always the bridesmaid….” of course, it’s why people periodically sit with me at parties. Feeling good about yourself is often a product of relativity.

And, if all else fails, there is a healthy pour of the airport’s finest red. Have a good trip!

 

read Kerri’s blog post about BOWLING AT THE AIRPORT

 

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