When you go bowling, you sometimes throw the ball down the alley and when it doesn't go exactly the way you want it to, you have to kind of watch it go to one side or the other. It really sucks, because you've pretty much done what you can do and you have to just watch the ball go into the gutter or hit the pin on the side. And really there's nothing you can do about it.
 
But we don't just stand there and watch. I say "we" because I've done it and you've done it. It's a universal response. What we do is, as we watch it go down the alley, we tilt our heads to the opposite side, and lean and twist our bodies, like somehow this insane vodoo bowling dance will make the ball go the way we want it to. I don't know why we do it, or why we expect it to work, like we really expect that the angle at which we watch it will somehow alter the laws of physics and the ball will jump out of the gutter and knock all the pins down.
 
Really, if it worked that way, couldn't we just knock all the pins down without even throwing the ball? I mean, why does the insane vodoo bowling dance only work on the ball and not the pins themselves?
 
Anyway, I've done it. I've watched others do it, and every time I mention it, everyone seems to know exactly what I'm talking about. It's kind of like how Yoda would teach someone to bowl. You know, on Star Wars this moving your head thing would actually work. I could totally see Obi Wan Kenobi teaching this to Luke Skywalker. I'm not sure what other application this talent might have, although I have seen people do it when they play video games and I'm told that you do the same thing when you golf. I prefer the idea of a Jedi Bowling League to a Jedi Country Club though. I'm not sure why. The Jedis are kind of elitist and would probably play golf.
 
I should note that I make all of these observations having personally only bowled once myself. I really sucked at it, too. I have the distinction of being the only person in the history of those lanes to ever have hit the ceiling with the ball. I don't understand why that doesn't happen all the time, either; I mean,  you're swinging your arm in the arc-like motion, all you really have to do is release it like .002 seconds too late and your bowling ball is airborne. I din't throw it straight up, luckily, because while I believe that I would personally dread being famous and having strangers all know who I am and speaking to me all the time, it would be a billion times worse and I wouild have to jump off a bridge if I was forever being recognized for being the only person in history to ever accidentally physically maim themselves with a bowling ball.
 
Anyway, I there I was bowling and the ball was going all over the place: The ceiling, the gutters, even other people's lanes. But I watched the other folks that I was with, what they were doing, and how it all seemed to be working out for them. I realized then that they were throwing the ball rather than trying to roll it down the alley, and I thought, you know, I can do this. So on my last frame, I announced that I was going to get a strike. And sure enough, bam!
 
After that, there just didn't seem much point to bowling, no challenge left to it. I had the bowling thing down. So now when folks ask me to go bowling, I say "Thank you, I've already bowled."
 
That's my bowling story, but I didn't start out today to talk about bowling.
 
The thing is, you do everything you can to be a good bowler. You practice and you find a good ball and you wear the right shoes and you learn all the lingo. You join a good league and you hang out with other bowlers and you read Bowling Digest, or whatever bowlers read. But no matter what you do, there's going to come a point when you're standing in the lane with the ball flying down there towards the pins, you've done everything you can and there's nothing left to do but just watch and see what happens. No amount of Insane Voodoo Bowling Dancing is going to change the direction of the ball or the number of pins that get knocked down.
 
And yet, everyone does it. Why do we do it, and why do we always seem to expect it to make a difference? I've concluded that we do it because we're all idiots.
 
(Note: For more thoughts on how everyone on earth is insane and stupid, see every other entry I've ever written)
 
It's kind of the same way that folks worry about stuff that they can't do anything about. We seem to think that worrying about something is going to change the way it turns out, which, again, might actually work for a Jedi, but not for regular folks like you and me.
 
In a way, this might be why so many grown people, women in particular, seem to have issues with their mothers. I mean, once you accept that parenting is like bowling and that eventually you're going to reach a point where you can't do anything but stand there and see how it all turns out, or do this Insane Voodoo Bowling Dance and drive everyone else crazy.
 
Like the mom on Everybody Loves Raymond, and how she's always trying to manipulate and control everyone. It's the same exact thing as this Insane Voodoo Bowling Dance, just trying to exert that last little bit of control and not being able to let go.
 
If you really think about it, you know, Yoda had this calm wise Zen thing going on, like nothing rattled him and he never raised his voice and he was always so cool about everything. Well it's no wonder. It's easy to be all calm and Zen when you can completely control your situation and environment. When you want a beer you can just make one float over from the refrigerator, or you can say to your wife "You want me to play poker all night with my buddies," or to your boss "You want to give me a raise!" What would you ever have to be frustrated about?
 
By contrast, Ray's mom is a bitchy shrew who uses guilt and manipulation to get her way. She doesn't have the Force, so she freaks out all the time and gets everyone else all worked up because it usually doesn't work.
 
It would kind of be funny if their roles were reversed, and Yoda was the one who nagged and complained all the time to Luke and Obi-Wan to get them to do what he wanted. Of course then they wouldn't be very good Jedi Knights, because they wouldn't be all neurotic and dysfunctional, just like Ray and Robert.
 
But if Ray's mom was a Jedi Master, Ray and Robert would be all calm and Zen, and of course the show wouldn't be funny at all. Unless maybe if there were some kind of wacky neighbor to always make fun of them or test their patience, or maybe a talking horse like Mr. Ed who lived in a barn in the backyard who was always complicate everything, and hilarity would ensue.
 
Or what if all of this happened at once, and Ray's mom was married to Yoda, and Kramer lived next door, and Mr. Ed in the backyard? I think I just accidentally created the funniest sitcom ever. And to have a "Very Special Episode" where they all learn something...by going bowling!!! 
 
Maybe I'm a genius.