Bowling Fret

When I was working on my 50 Fret, my writing teacher – the gifted nurturer Bruce Gelfand – told me that I couldn’t talk about the vagina enough.  So, originally I was going to fret about yet another indignity of aging – southern sweating… it’s not just my tummy that perspires… and the sympathy I suddenly feel with ‘manspreaders’ … but then I got depressed thinking about yet another indignity of aging. Then, I saw an ad for some polysyllabic prescription to address vaginal atrophy and decided that contemplating my ‘woman parts’ would only lead to me rocking in a fetal position while sucking my thumb. Thus, I’m going to focus on traits that aren’t necessarily affected by age.

For example, my athletic ability.  I am old, fat and slow.  But, I used to be young, big-boned and slow.  Yes, even in my prime, every attempt at graceful moment looked like a comedy  ‘bit’.  When a fitness instructor advises the class to make a particular movement, ‘quick and athletic’ I laugh and then continue to plod along sweating while others perspire athletically along.

Earlier this week I went to an overnight retreat as part of a charitable board on which I serve.  The post dinner activity was a surprise trip to a bowling alley where I discovered yet another sport at which I suck.  Bowling.  Yes, it is a sport – and one which those who are competitive by nature keep score.  I know this because I won my first athletic trophy ever.  I ‘won’ the “Better Luck Next Year” award.  I got the lowest score of the entire group, many of whom might’ve had a bit too much to drink. 

Yes, there are days when I do feel like the butt of some cosmic joke – but hey at least I bring laughter to the world and that is something I value in myself.  And, at least the bowling trophy is as classy as you’d expect.  I’ve put it the shelf with the family photos in our family room – where I smile every time I catch a glimpse of it.

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