Pro Bowling

Yesterday I had to venture out to the dentist to have a crown put on. It was somewhat trippy to have these women working right inside my mouth after staying a very disciplined six feet away from all others except Mary and the kids for quite some time, but it needed to be done. In recent weeks, as my entirely psychosomatic Covid-19 symptoms have faded into memory, there had been moments when I thought that I was having dental pain back where this crown was scheduled. Because, after all, my brain really couldn't do without fixating on some potential cause of doom. It needs something to kvetch about.

So there I was, comfortably reclined in the dental chair, and my new dentist features a TV which is suspended above the patient for which we have the remote control. At first I was like, I don't need to watch TV, I'll just space out and relax while they drill and suction away and give me the good old dental spa experience. But in the end I couldn't resist the allure of TV.

So what did I end up watching? A rerun of a bowling tournament, of course, because that's the best sports there were to be found.

The bowling featured this fine young North Carolinian named Kyle Troup with excellent hair and a taste for brightly colored jumpsuits. He was bowling against some styleless nerd. Not only did Kyle have a very white guy fro, he had a penchant for -- at moments of peak excitement, like after a strike -- pulling a hair pick out of his pocket and running it demonstratively through his hair as he egged on the crowd, really much like a pro wrestler.

Meanwhile, in the crowd, there were some excellent characters, including a shirtless guy with some nice tattoos wearing a fake fur coat, as well as a number of attractive young frauleins wearing German peasant wear holding beers, and even one guy dressed up as a nun. All in all, it made for pretty good TV, and made me proud to be an American, just because it was so silly.