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HONORARY MAYOR of the NORTH VALLEY, and the Voice of Bart Simpson

     I don’t know about you, but I am sure that I have THE most talented family on the planet.  Yeah, yeah, I know the King family has preceded us and The Partridge Family and The Brady Bunch, but they don’t hold a candle to the tap-dancing, stand-up comedy and yes, even a fire-breathing routine that puts Puff the Magic Dragon to shame!

     My dad’s 80th birthday was May 21st and as a special surprise, the whole family debussed at my house a few days before Memorial Day to celebrate this momentous occasion. They came from Florida, Ohio, Pennsylvania and North Carolina—and one sister from Palm Desert, about whom I will go into more detail later.

     Friday night we all met at the Montrose Bowl.  If you have never been there, you have missed out on a gem of Americana that is as rare as drive-in theaters.  Built in the 1950s, The Montrose Bowling Alley is an exception to most as they have NEVER done a remodel.  Don’t get me wrong, the plumbing appeared to be up-to-date, but the décor, the manually-controlled score mechanism and probably the balls were all circa 1950.  It was charming and fun and possibly the best place to demonstrate either your ineptitude or your grace in Los Angeles County.  I suppose I could have insisted that our lane use the bumper guards, but you have to be under 4-foot tall and claim to be 10-years-old to use them, so that idea went out the window for almost everyone.

     My sister—the one from Palm Desert—is one of the all-time-great party planners.  There were about 40 of us, varying in ages from 8 to 80 (Go Dad!).  We all drew a card from a hat that had 2 numbers on it.  The first number signified the lane and the second number signified the order in which you were to bowl.  I was in lane #8 and the second bowler in line.  I had my youngest niece, my sister-in-law and my cousin (who looks like he should play Brittney Spears’ love interest in her next video.)  When my sister yelled out “Let the games begin!” we all took our respective turns.  My personal goal was to break 100 - thank God my niece qualified for the bumper rails.  For some reason, once we set the bumpers in place the rod that lifted them out disappeared and we were forced to keep the “gutter-ball-eliminator” in place for the duration of the game.  I scored a 183:  the highest score of the entire family.   What can I say?  I was forced to play that way.

     Game #2…We drew new cards and this time I was pitted with two of my three sisters and my 80-year-old dad.  Dad said he would rather be official scorekeeper than play and he got his way; he was the Birthday Boy after all.  I went first.  Gutter ball.  Darn.  No worries.  I still had the second ball to throw.  Another gutter ball.  Double darn.  Oh well, let’s see how my sisters do.  My baby sister, ha, Marsha pulled off a six and a two and Mary Beth, the cheater from Palm Desert, got a strike.  I call her a “cheater” because she is also the organizer of the game and I can’t help but think that her connections with the owner had something to do with the fact that she kept getting strikes and spares and eights and nines throughout the entire game.  Okay, admittedly she has bowled for the past 42 years, but that still doesn’t discount the fact that SHE HAD CONNECTIONS!

     We continued to bowl for the next two hours, with the highlights being:

     a) I actually did break 100 without the use of the bumpers and

     b) my uncle Zoot, (don’t ask) managed to have his ball jump from lane #6 to lane #3 without the use of magic, voodoo or hypnotism.  I think the Bud Light might have had something to do with it.

     In between throws, we stuffed our faces with burgers, fries and cokes, typical bowling alley fare.  Oh, and of course, the evening was topped with the singing of “Happy Birthday, You Old Fart” to my Dad.  He nearly set the place on fire with the 80 candles, but Mary Beth, (the bowling party-planner-with- an-inside-connection-sister) had a fire extinguisher at hand.

     The next night was the Cartwright family version of “American Idol”.  For those who have not had the arguable pleasure of seeing this show on television, I apologize.  Suffice it to say that our judges didn’t get paid to embarrass, criticize and otherwise humiliate each other on national television.  They did do all that – they just didn’t get paid for it.

     The evening started with my 8-year-old niece singing her version of “Crazy”.  Omygodinheaven.  I have never heard or seen an angel before, and mind you, this has nothing to do with the fact that she is my niece.  Let me just say that Sabrina, the original “peanut” made Patsy Cline very happy that night.  Her dulcet tones, her natural vibrato, her sweet “angel face” won my heart that night.  Her two older sisters had quite a challenge as they were next in line.  They tap-danced and did ballet and they too, made all of us cheer and applaud.  I am sure my next-door neighbors didn’t appreciate them as much as we did, but what can I say?  We don’t have a family reunion but once in a blue moon…and besides, they could have signed up to be in if they wanted to!

     The rest of the evening consisted of various skits, stand-up routines, and yes, my son surprised me by lighting his skateboard on fire with rubbing alcohol and jumping off the deck into the pool, but safety aside, his act was definitely the crowd-pleaser of the night.

     We really should videotape the whole weekend and pitch the idea to the networks.  I have no doubt that my family could pull off an interesting “reality” show that the world would love to see.  Okay…maybe not the world, but most definitely Northridge….okay, maybe not Northridge, but I am sure that there is some owner of a bowling alley somewhere that might see the possibility of merging bowling with flame-enveloped skateboards who would LOVE to have a copy.   With only a day left of having the family in town, I just need to figure out - where do I put the hidden cameras?