The increasing trouble
with stunt memoirs is a crippling self-awareness. It was once conceivable that
someone would want to see a film a day (Kevin Murphy's A Year At The Movies) or go undercover as a
prison guard (Ted Conover's Newjack) just for his own personal edification, even if
no one was watching. But then came 2005's Julie & Julia, in which a major plot
point is the author affecting shock at the attention her project is getting; in
the bestselling Eat Pray Love, the book deal is an open precondition of the
adventure, not a byproduct of joyous self-discovery.
Author Mike Walsh is
upfront from the start about his attempts to publicize the trip described in Bowling
Across America: 50 States In Rented Shoes, perhaps because he used to work in
advertising. The trip is intended as an homage to his late father—a
former traveling salesman who dreamed of playing handball in every state, but
died on the court at home with 22 left—but Walsh taps into his former
employment as a Wienermobile driver to get himself on local radio shows, and he
eventually scores a beer-company sponsor, whose frequent mention in the book
suggests he should have held out for more money. His subsequent adventures
range from losing to a bunch of old ladies as a substitute in a Kansas senior
citizens' league to his encounter with a Florida man whose own dad died in a
bowling alley. In New York, Walsh forks over $20 to play at the exclusive
Bowlmor; in other states, he picks destinations apparently at random, begging
an Elks Lodge in Wyoming for access to members-only lanes and crashing at a
B&B; in wine country with his mom.
In spite of its funereal
opening, Bowling Across America coasts along seamlessly state-by-state as Walsh
barges into other people's lives, drinks too much, and leaves with huge debts
of gratitude to the friends and acquaintances who put him up. His conceit about
bowling alleys being a great place to watch people, and Americans in particular,
is upheld by the stories he tells; his transparency becomes charming when
layered with a willingness to listen to the locals instead of just using them
as foils. Because he doesn't aim to be a better bowler, or even a better man,
the objective becomes merely to make it to Hawaii, which keeps his narrative
pitch on the level of a wacky '60s caper.