Visually, Country Club bowl is a stunning alley. The wirey globes surrounding the lights, sad clowns presiding over the exterior bar, the twinkling starlight above the lanes, the Halloween orange classic Brunswick ball returns...but you know what would save this alley?

There are just too many kids. Yes, I know bowling alleys sprout in suburbia, but do I have to be reminded so vividly? And are there really no bowlers anywhere in San Rafael who can handle bowling without bumpers? Leaving them down as the default is really an embarrassment to the entire city.

And then, let's consider the subsections of this alley. There's the appalling "Mr. Pizza Man" franchise chain right by the front door. We would have shrieked and recoiled right there if the darkly mysterious, completely inaccessible mystery doors outside hadn't piqued our curiosity. An abandoned motel? A caretaker's shack? A torture pit for containing abducted coeds until Mr. Pizza Man needs more spicy sausage? We'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that the sawing noises weren't actually due to alley repairs. One goth point.

Then there's the Candlestick Room, a lovely spectre of 60's kitsch nestled in the heart of a suburban wasteland. Tan faux leather, brass buttons, gallons of UPS brown paint, and yes, the sad clowns. Squint real hard and you can see that this alley was once a dark beauty, but it's like when Joy Division lost Ian and became New Order. It has its merits, but it just isn't goth anymore. Sorry San Rafael.