This is actually my dad's bowling ball which I inherited when he wasn't able to wield it any longer. My own ball is much less impressive. Robert Putnam wrote a book called, "Bowling Alone" which used bowling allies as an archetypal kind of place in which communities of people are brought together in ways that positively affect the culture. Growing up, the bowling alley was one of two possible places for a Saturday afternoon of indoor fun, the other being the roller rink. I always came home smelling like smoke and being reminded that bowling looks easier in theory than it is in practice.
A bowling ball used to be one of those objects that served as an informal standard of measurement. "Is it heavier than a bowling ball?" one might ask. Or, "His head is smoother than a bowling ball (I am not...I repeat, not, referring to my own head)." The bowling ball, however, seems to be losing it's position as a standard of measurement along with the bread box and a blue moon.
When objects become common enough, they can take on iconic and metaphoric duties within the culture. For obvious reasons, these objects are constantly coming into and out of common use (How much longer will anyone say that they have to "dial" someone up?). Meanwhile, I'm holding on to the bowling balls in the house. Who knows when they'll be pressed into service.
No comments:
Post a Comment