We Were Bowlers Once

Warmth.  Togetherness.  Camaraderie.  A fierce battle, fought together.   That's what today's tale is about.

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The turbulence of that decade sends shock waves to us to this very day.  Who amongst us didn't know someone who died in the killing fields of Vietnam?   Who amongst didn't feel our lives were shattered when we heard of the senseless murders of John Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. or Bob Crane?  

And yet, there were many other events that occurred during that decade that helped to shape it's very definition; events that went a long way towards defining its very character.  And yet, many of these happenings were never heard about by the general public.  They were overshadowed by larger scale occurrences.

This, then, is a story of one of those events.   This is a warmhearted tale of men and women facing ungodly peril, together.   This is a warmhearted tale of white-knuckled drama that changed forever the way each of us involved look at the fabric of life.   No, it did not take place in the elephant grass of Vietnam.  Its sometimes tragic moments did not unfold in a small plaza in Dallas.  No, these events took place in November of 1965, the very heart of the decade and, ironically, right in the very heart of a section of Modesto, California called Little Vienna,  in an otherwise obscure and unknown building called "Jergen's Bowlarama" (for those morons out there less than German literate, that is pronounced "Yergen's").   

Me?  My name is Warmheart.  Just call me Warmheart.   Back during those fateful and tragic days, I was the colonel of a bowling team called the U.S. Can Bowl.   Colonel?  That's correct, soldier.   I was so loved and admired by my men that they felt calling me Captain was an injustice.

Ahh, the memories of that outfit fill me with pride to this moment.  I remember with vivid clarity the day when I first came to take the team over, and I think it is important that I provide a little background to the story of the squad.   

They were formed during the bowling boom of the late 1950s.   When I came to take over the unit in early 1965, the members were - with one vital exception -  the same as they had been at their inception.  

First, there was Joey Capelli and his wife Marge.  Joey was a short Italian guy who always acted as if everybody wanted to kick his ass.  Probably because he was such a short bastard.  Who knows?  Maybe he was right.  I know there were many occasions when I felt like it.  Marge sported a foot and a half high beehive hairdo and was known as "Pins", not because of the obvious bowling reference, but because of her dynamite legs.  I could never figure out why a dynamite dame like Marge ever married such a metal headed moron like Joey.   He must have threatened to kick her ass if she didn't.   Only thing I can figure.  Damn, I wanted that beehive hairdo pounding against my bed headboard. 

Every bowling  team needs a guy named Al, and we had ours.  He was Al Limely, a red headed guy with a no-nonsense expression and curly Brylcreamed hair that was always slicked back as if it were still the 1950s.  Al was lanky, somewhat stiff, and looked like he had been half-drunk every day of his life.  He always had a cigarette hanging from his lips, a beer in his hand, and talked as if he was at all times ready to fight anybody and everybody.  Al was interesting to me because of his special relationship with Joey.   As I said, Joey thought everybody wanted to kick his ass, but Al really did want to kick Joey's ass.  

And, every bowling team also needs a middle-aged woman who still thinks she's ultra cute and talks like a little girl.  Sickening.  Ours was Shirley "Cuke" Skingraft.   She was overweight and ugly and don't even ask where the name Cuke came from because I'll never tell.  In fact, I don't even want to think about it ever again so if you bring it up, I'll be forced to take you out like you were a fag walking into a biker bar.  

Up to the time I joined, this team had ably captained by Harold "Hal" Less.  It was because of his untimely departure from the team, and - simultaneously - the world, that I was called in to take the reins for this rough and ready group of individuals. 

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