Barefoot Bowling

If I could sum up my time in Sydney since my last post, I wouldn't. No wait, what I mean to say is that I can't really sum up my time since my last post, so I will just keep talking as though you were right next to me the whole time (you creepy bastard).

My Mom (Mum) is out to visit and we have been having just a grand old time. She has been such a good sport with the things I have taken her to do and, to be honest, she really needn't be. She could just as well tell me that I am way off on what I consider a "fun" afternoon and that I really need a reality check. Take, as an example, her first Saturday in Australia - I took her to barefoot bowls (or for the lay-person "lawn bowling in bare feet").

Now, you may think that barefoot bowling is a boring activity in which the elderly partake. You may think my judgement was on leave when I offered up this activity to my decidely un-elderly mother. You would be right on both accounts, but you also would have missed the point.

On the first account, bowls is an activity for the elderly, sure, but here in Australia it is also a swell afternoon for an any-ager to share with some mates. On the second account, yes, my judgement is off, but not because I have insulted my Mom's age, rather because I shared this particular afternoon with my beer drinking, foul-mouthed footy mates. On paper it doesn't sound like a great afternoon for my Mom, but paper's got it all wrong, man.

Details of the bowling are a bit hazy, but suffice to say that we won't be going back to Camperdown bowls in any official function any time soon. We had a few schooners, some things were said, yadda, yadda, yadda, we went to the pub. Some more things were said, so on and so forth, we went on a pub crawl. All the while, my Mom was the star of the show meeting the guys, having a laugh, pounding a drambuie while being sung, "Here's to Meg, she's true blue. She's a piss pot, through and through...", and attentively listening to glassy-eyed drunks oh-so-sad stories. And she had a great time, smiled ear to ear, and now has a story to tell. What a legend.

Here's to my Mom - she's true blue.

Byron

Does it get any better than Byron Bay? Doubtful.