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There is a specific kind of magic found in the “third places” of our small towns. Those spots that aren’t home and aren’t work, but feel like a mix of the best of both. Recently, I experienced that energy in the small town of Honeoye Falls, New York inside West Main Lanes bowling center.
I pulled into the lot the other day just as the doors were unlocking. For me, this wasn’t just a Saturday activity; it was a homecoming. This was the first place I ever picked up a bowling ball forty years ago. As someone who loves to bowl, this was a really big thing for me. Stepping through those doors was like stepping into a time capsule, and I mean that in the most soulful way possible.
The Beauty of the Analog
If you’re looking for glowing LED lanes or high-tech sensory overload, you’re in the wrong place. West Main Lanes is a temple to the analog. It features the same equipment I used four decades ago. The same ball returns, scoring screens, and the same tactile charm. It’s a space that hasn’t felt the need to “pivot” or “disrupt” itself into something unrecognizable.
The “Bowling Alone” Paradox
As I sat there, I couldn’t help but think of Robert Putnam’s seminal book, Bowling Alone. Putnam famously used the decline of bowling leagues as a metaphor for the erosion of “social capital” in America, or the idea that we are losing the 3rd spaces that bind us together as a society. But for a few hours in Honeoye Falls, Putnam’s theory was turned on its head.
What started as a quiet morning transformed in less than thirty minutes. The transformation was total. What began as a handful of utilized lanes and a quiet counter turned into a high-voltage theater of human connection. Every single lane was claimed.
A Defiance of Erosion
The scene was loud. It was a bit chaotic. It was a flurry of mismatched rental shoes and the constant, thunderous crash of pins. But beneath the noise was something we are starving for: genuine, un-curated energy.
- Multigenerational Connection: I saw grandparents coaching toddlers who were vibrating with that pure, unfiltered enthusiasm that only a “strike” (or even a lucky nudge of a pin) can trigger.
- The Shared Experience: In a digital age where we mostly interact through screens, this was physical. It was sweaty, it was tactile, and it was public.
- The Community Fabric: You could feel the “social capital” building in real-time. People weren’t just bowling; they were acknowledging their neighbors, sharing a laugh at a gutter ball, and occupying the same physical air.
Why It Matters
We talk a lot about the decline of the “village” and the rise of isolation. We see the social fabric eroding every day in the way we argue online or avoid eye contact in the grocery store. But it was nice to have this experience in a place that stands as a defiant guard against that erosion.
3rd space like West Main Lanes aren’t just businesses. They are a living room for the community. They are places where the chaos is the point. The noise isn’t a distraction, instead it’s the sound of a community refusing to bowl alone. In a world that feels increasingly fragmented, there is something deeply grounding about a packed, “old-school” bowling alley where the only thing that matters is the next frame and the person standing next to you.
I usually write about cities as a means to a better future for our world. But this experience was a reminder that the “3rd space” isn’t dead in communities large or small. Whether it’s Chicago, Rochester, or the tiny town of Honeoye Falls, we should always strive to support the places that bring us together. Maybe it’s loud, chaotic and wild, but it also creates the greatest opportunities for social connection and a sense of community.