Fish Fry-day

A pretty good weekend was kicked off on a Friday by dinner at the Holy Name Fish Fry on Friday. Now, I'm not Catholic, in fact right now I'd probably be described by the Religious Right as a secular humanist, but I love the Holy Name Fish Fry. I was raised Lutheran which observes Lent, but doesn't exclude meat on Fridays. Sure, we were encouraged to give up something during Lent, like chocolate, soda, et., but we could really eat whatever we wanted. The closest thing we got to catholic fish frys were soup suppers on Wednesdays during Lent. These were pretty fun little gatherings, but since they were in the Fellowship Hall of our church, they were pretty sedate. Also, you really had a choice of 2 beverages, punch or iced tea. This seems to be the major difference between the fish frys and the soup suppers, because at a fish fry you can have beer. And lots of it. Now, I'm not sure where or why the Lutherans and Catholics parted ways on this, because I gotta tell ya, going to church is a lot more fun when there's beer involved.

My first experience at the Holy Name Fish Fry a couple of years ago came as quite a shock. First of all, the line to get into the cafeteria stretched outside and along the building, eventually spilling out onto a side street. While we waited in line, people drank beer and even brought along coolers. I thought this was a little odd, as I could not remember ever seeing alcohol anywhere on the premises of my church, with the exception of Communion wine. So, I thought that people just brought along beer to have fun during the long wait to get in, but once we got inside there'd be no more beer. Well, I was half right. Once you actually entered the cafeteria, you had to stow away your coolers and all the beer you brought with you, but you could drink all the keg beer you could handle from the church while you waited in line. Good call Catholics! Once you finally got your fish and chips, you could buy pitchers of beer as well. By the time I sat down, I had already decided that meat or no meat on Fridays, Catholics got the Lent thing right.

This last Friday, Megan and I took in the fish fry with our friends Kara and Jessie and their baby daughter Sophie and Holy Name Fish Fry newcomers Katie and Josh. The fish and fixins' were good as always, although once a year is enough for me. I don't think I could keep up eating all that fried food for the duration of Lent, even if just on Fridays. A good time was had by all, except when I thought Jessie's head was going to explode each time the guy that stands outside of Planned Parenthood with signs about killing babies kept coming over and talking to Sophie. Kara said that next time he came by, she was going to say they almost had an abortion instead. Ya gotta love abortion humor at a Catholic fish fry.

Kara, Jessie, and Sophie called it a night after dinner and we dropped Megan off to recover from her hangover (it's a long story). Katie, Josh, and I decided that we weren't ready to call it a night just yet, so we went bowling down at Chop's. Up until this year, I probably had been bowling a sum total of 5 times. So far this year, I've been bowling at least 6. I'm really starting to dig it. As with any sport, and with bowling I use the term loosely, the difficulty lies in consistency. By the fourth and final game, Katie had bowed out, but Josh and I seemed to really find our grooves. I don't think that I'll ever be a great bowler, but Josh and I bowled a solid game with Josh scoring 125 and me barely edging him out with a 128. Except for Josh spilling an entire beer into Katie's purse, it made for an exceptionally fun evening.

As I write this, I realize that I must be approaching middle age ahead of schedule. Fish frys and bowling on a Friday night. What's next, a friggin' dart league? Jesus, I'm becoming an old man, and apparently a white trash one at that.