Panic Saturday

Today is apparently ‘Panic Saturday’ the last minute shopping day. Surely last minute is December 24^th?

L again opts to stay in bed rather than parkrun. An excellent decision in my unbiased opinion. All the exercise she needs is to hand. Then she's off to Pilates. 

I have a nagging feeling that I should be doing something relating to ‘Panic Saturday’ but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

We have managed to resist the lure and the thumbscrews of our friends trying to talk us into Lawnmower Deth’s Christmas Party this evening.  Instead we are at Broadway where the Centurion is on. 

I had my doubts about Stephen Frears' film about Lance Armstrong but thought it was worth a look anyway. Personally I think it was way too soon to make this film as no one is in charge of all the facts yet but I suppose cashing in on the Armstrong saga made it necessary to be made now. They’ll probably be plenty more to come. 

You probably know the story by now but if you don’t then this will be a real eye-opener. Basically, the massively competitive Armstrong (Ben Foster) doesn’t like losing at anything and is so determined to be the best that he enlists known dodgy doctor Michele Ferrari (Guillaume Canet) to chemically assist him. Before long Armstrong is destroying everything in his path - rival cyclists, testicular cancer and anyone or anything else that gets in his way. With his seven Tour de France victories and his cancer charity he is an inspiration to millions but Sunday Times journalist David Walsh (Chris O'Dowd) was unconvinced from day one but Walsh stands almost alone in his pursuit of the truth.

The story is pretty much taken word for word from Walsh's excellent book ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ and the film is very true to the book. It doesn't however make for a very coherent story as Frears tries to cram thirteen years of events into the film by presenting a checklist of Armstrong's life. He also decides to use the first half hour of the film to big up Armstrong before shooting him down as if to give a balanced view of the man. I don’t think that was at all necessary.

The film fails to do much more than skim over the surface and never really goes after Armstrong with any real gusto probably because it daren't speculate on what we don't yet know. There are now numerous documentaries that go much deeper than this film does and I'm sure even they haven't got to anywhere near the bottom of this murky saga.

Unfortunately Ben Foster isn't terribly believable as Armstrong, he’s not nearly as intimidating enough for a start, but then I'm not sure who could have pulled that off.

Despite its shortcomings, The Program is largely entertaining and informative but not particularly outstanding.

Afterwards we try to get in the Crafty Crow but it's too packed. So we end up in the Blue Monkey for a Gorilla. Then the Borlase for a couple of Lincoln Green beers - Josef Keller Cherry Stout, Josef Keller being the chap who invented Black Forest Gateaux, and a festive Holly Green.

  
(Saturday 19^th December)

Literary Matters

As I cycle to work I almost get wiped out by one of those street cleaning vehicles which was driving down the wrong side of the road and stalking the entrance to the footpath at the bottom of Harrow Gardens. It’ll never get down there, I struggle to get my bike though those metal barriers.

Sure enough the chap has to get out of his vehicle and resort to using a brush. Unfortunately for him, L and the boys are following behind me on their morning walk. So MD gets chance to give him a right good telling off on my behalf.

In the evening both L and I are at literary events. What a cultured pair we are. L’s book club has a guest author while I’m at Nottingham Playhouse to see the journalist David Walsh promoting his book about his outing of Lance Armstrong. It’s a fascinating evening, although most of what he tells us is in his book, which I have already read. 

The most interesting bit is when he comes back for an encore and does a Q&A, in which we move on to more recent issues. Like British Cycling president Brian Cookson emerging as a challenger to the discredited head of the International Cycling Union (UCI) Pat McQuaid. That could get interesting.

(Tuesday 11^th June)

File The Lot Under Fiction

The weather has been so foul and the roads so drenched in salt that my car is now so disgustingly dirty that even those car wash people who prowl the supermarket car parks don't even bother me. In which case I might just leave it as it is.

While I was at Sainsbury’s I also failed to pick up any Vestas. Just where do you get Vesta curries from? 

We’ve been trying but although they apparently still exist, does anyone stock them? What is the world coming to?

Dog training goes ahead on a Monday night for the first time this year. Although only three of us turn up to brave the near gale force wind. Which makes things interesting but both dogs get a good run around which is the main thing and in somebody else’s mud rather than our own.

Having finished Tyler Hamilton’s cycling drug book I move on to David Walsh’s cycling drug book. 

Fascinating stuff.

I notice some people who bought Lance Armstrong’s books are demanding a refund because it wasn’t all about the bike after all. I admit it was a rather large lie he told but it’s a bit naive to assume somebody is going to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth in their autobiographies.

My dilemma with Tyler Hamilton’s book is the opposite. Rather than leaving out drug references he may be adding some to make it dramatic enough to sell. So it could be that he exaggerated the drugs problem, who knows. Still makes for an interesting read and is why I want to read some others to compare what they say.

Meanwhile L is appalled that James Frey’s book has also turned out to not be quite what it seemed as well. Just file the lot under fiction and be done with it.

(Monday 4^th February)