On Sunday Richard Bonomo, Travalon, and I drove to Brookfield for a memorial Mass. Rich’s namesake drowned tragically in August, and since his family is Filipino, there was singing in Tagalog at the Mass, including the Our Father. Afterwards there was a party with Filipino food. It was my third church service of the day, since I had gone to my own church for Mass and then the Lutheran one to sing. The advantage to spending that much time in a church: you are statistically less likely to die in a church than just about anywhere, so in some ways it was a very safe day for me. On the other hand, we had to drive to Brookfield, and driving is not so safe, so it probably balanced out to an averagely safe day for me.
Afterwards Travalon and I went to the lakeshore in Milwaukee to enjoy the beautiful day; we thought about renting a kite but ended up just going for a stroll. I just think it is so cool that they have a kite rental place! One year my brother (whose birthday is in March) got nothing but kites at his birthday party, and I was the one who ended up flying them. He got some really cool ones – my favorite was a 100-foot dragon kite. Nobody thinks to give you a kite when your birthday is in the dead of winter, but I have always loved them.
Then Travalon and I went to the Holler House, the oldest continually used bowling alley in the country and yet another tavern featured in the book. The bowling alley only has two lanes, and it still uses human pin setters so we were unable to play a game, since you have to call ahead to arrange it. People from all over the world, including Larry the Cable Guy, had signed the walls. The bar owner was a superannuated and garrulous lady who had tons of stories, and we spent longer there than we had originally intended. When we did finally leave, she decided to close up since nobody else was there. That’s the beauty of owning your own place – you can make your own hours. I highly recommend a visit to the Holler House, but make sure you have time to chat.