Go bowling with Ryan, whether he likes it or not. :) Take a picture of him holding a bowling ball (he'd better be smiling).
I talked to Marhs a long while ago, discussing what it's like to be jobless and in a foreign country. Most of the conversation revolved around the difficulty and lows of feeling like I have no purpose. How I desperately needed an object and a goal even if it was as simple and short-term as throwing a bowling ball down a lane to knock down some pins...perhaps, unsurprisingly, a similar conversation I had with Ryan. He promised we'd go bowling, but you know how it is: after a long day of work you just want to crash on the couch. Meanwhile the chinchilla in me would be bouncing off the walls, ready to go. Other times Ryan would feign disinterest in sports as an excuse. Hrrumph. Needless to say I finally got him to go, reasoning that bowling is like a baseball game: you don't go for the sport! You go to drink beer, eat deluxe nachos, and laugh. After this night, I believe I've cured him of his disinterest in bowling, at least.
Next we'll try the German version of bowling: Kegelbahn.