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)

Everyone’s Entourages

L is too ill to parkrun, instead we head up to the Lincoln Green Brewery shop in Hucknall where we pick up several presents and a few bottles for home. Then it’s off to the carpet shop in Beeston to choose a colour and to pay a deposit. L walks the boys home from there, nicely getting me out of throwing balls on the park. 

Something I haven’t time for anyway as Derby have a very un-festive 12.15 kick off against Norwich. A close but uninspiring game finishes 2-2. I do finally get a free ipro drink off them, which is mixed blessing as I don’t think anyone likes them.

On my way home, I visit the Blue Monkey Brewery shop in Giltbrook to get even more beery gifts.

Tonight we head back over to Derby to a Beefeater called the Mallard. A place that looked promising last time we were there until a power cut forced us to leave before we’d even sampled the food. This time it’s not looking so promising, the menu looks very average and we’ve been forced to pre-order. Something I always hate doing. At least after initially ringing us on Wednesday to ask where we were, the place seems to have got us down for the right night now.

All of L’s family are there. Her sister, brothers, parents and everyone’s entourages. Son can’t make it but Daughter puts aside her Toys r Us Christmas headband and hotfoots it over from Manchester, although she won’t make it in time for the meal. I collect her from the train station.

L remembers the antlers. Festive spirit does strange things to folk and I didn’t know we’d booked her a table by herself.

It’s a good night, in a contentious family orientated festive sort of way, just as you’d expect these things to be.

(Saturday 20^th December)