in our group exchanged high-fives before Brandon would steal away from the lane to continue regurgitating little-known Lebowski facts before the judges.

He kept coming back unsure of himself, but any apprehension melted away as we made our way through frame after frame, happily exhausting all of the The Big Lebowski's bowling-specific one-liners. We were "throwing rocks" and "slammin' em"; everybody else was "dead in the water." After I managed two strikes in a row, someone behind me yelled, "The creep can roll, man!" a reference to The Dude's acknowledgment of John Turturro's character's bowling prowess despite being a registered pedophile. ("Eight-year-olds, dude...")

We might have been the only bowling group not decked out in costume. To our left was a young, suave, dark-haired "Jesus" imitator, dressed in tight purplepants, a purple bowling shirt, and purple nail polish on his pinky's fingernail. He carried himself exactly like Turturro's character, meaning his pelvis was featured prominently in strike celebrations. Next to his group's bowling balls a small rug was laid out. You could say it tied the lane together. To our right were Robin and Harry, a couple from Louisville, Kentucky, who had come up to celebrate their 12-year wedding anniversary. It was their fifth Lebowski Fest, and Harry, his bushy mustache starting to gray, was dressed up as The Stranger, the film's deep-voiced cowboy narrator. Looking down the lanes, it was impossible not to think about the wildly disparate backgrounds of the bowlers. The presiding spirit of The Dude was the great equalizer, though. At Lebowski Fest,