Spent the day pretending I was a photographer. Pictures aren’t new to me. I’ve been in them, taken them, sketched them, the works, and for many years. Even with all of my experience, I wouldn’t profess to be a photographer. I mean, I make my bed, wash the dishes, vacuum and, sometimes, dust, but I don’t go around telling people I’m a maid.
Anyway, I was taking some pictures with a camera from the office that was much more sophisticated than my drunk Canon Power Shot and I decided to use the strap – I have a weakness for accessories. So, with the camera hanging from my neck, I started snapping photos. As I was doing so, I was reminded of Mel Brooks’ movie, High Anxiety.
The movie takes place at the Psychoneurotic Institute for the Very, VERY Nervous. There is a scene when Nurse Diesel, Dr. Montague, and Dr. Thorndyke are leaving the facility and Brophy attempts to take a picture. They are all opposed to having their picture taken and verbally express their disinterest, all the while turning away from the camera. When Brophy places the camera in position they all immediately stop what they’re doing, face the camera, and pose for a picture.
This is exactly what happened when I was being a photographer. The only difference is I wasn’t at a psychoneurotic institute, I was at a secure/lock-up facility, and my name isn’t Brophy. At one point, I thought I would be clever and attempted to slyly take a shot by just holding the camera out and snapping. Unfortunately, I forgot the camera was strapped around my neck. Needless to say, the picture didn’t turn out as planned and I now have a bit of a crick in my neck.
After this little stint, I decided I needed to relax, and did so by attempting to be a bowler. It should be noted that, at this point, I was out of lock-up. You know what they say about bowling. You can take the bowler out of lock-up, but you can’t take lock-up out of the bowler. I would venture to bet about 90% of the bowlers have had their pictures taken. And by picture, I mean mug shot.
I had the good fortune of catching the tail end of league night. I had the bad fortune of not having my camera. The photo opportunities were endless. Leaguers are definitely a monochromatic androgynous lot. Truth be told, if I were to see them in a lineup, I wouldn’t be able to single any of them out. Unless, I saw their balls. Yes, all bowlers, regardless of their gender, have balls. Some have one, others three.
After taking in a week’s worth of visuals, I bowled a couple of games in the 70s; which exceeded my goal of 30, so I was pleased. I don’t let the score get me down. I own Wii Sports, mastered the balance handheld bowling game, and have watched Kingpin several times, but that doesn’t make me a bowler.