I’m back in Scunthorpe for another day at the agility show. As I set MD up on the line for his first course I notice that his trainer from Monday nights has turned up and is watching from the side. Great. Just when we don’t need any extra pressure. All the same, he did really well. I’m pleased with him. In fact he does much better with everything today and has only one pole down over his first two courses. We still have a few weave problems but no one asks us to leave any rings today. In one course he only picks up five faults which is real progress. His best yet.
On Friday, I thought perhaps Doggo’s elimination could have been because it was late in the day and he was tired. Today he trashes that theory by picking up faults in his very first course, early in the morning. Again it was the course I particularly fancied him to do well in. I’ll be having words with him again. He’s clear the rest of the day though.
MD’s last course has the tyre as its first obstacle, so we might as well go home now. Not the most glorious of ways to finish.
On the way home, I try to get beer to oil my shattered nerves but all the off licences that haven’t been put out of business are shut due to it being Easter Sunday, as are all the supermarkets. There are a few bargain booze shops open... but I didn’t really want Strongbow or Special Brew.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Isn’t This How Students Live?
After a rather heavy night and an indulgent lie in, I couldn't even drag myself out of bed to make the 11:30 cut-off for the Fantasy Football changes. Not that I could decide what to anyway. I shall carry this week’s change over.
In the end, I get up around 12:00 and give the dogs a session on the park. When I get back there’s only time for fifteen minutes at home before we head out again, although we’ve only just got up. Isn’t this how students live? I think I can remember... We’re head out, intending to do an hour at the gym before meeting the kids (yes the whole family) in town for a film at 5:30 and a meal. Together! Happy families or what?
So what great film is it that has drawn us all together like this?
Well it’s another of those superhero spoof movie and I’ve been talked into seeing it... However, this one is funny, very knowing, it has a plot, a sharp script and ermm, even character development.
Unpromisingly it starts out like teen romcom with Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) living an existence that is mundane but typically normal. He is unnoticed by most people and particularly by girls, especially the girl of his dreams, the lovely Katie (Lyndsy Fonseca). His only chance of getting her to even talk to him is to turn gay, perhaps... or perhaps not.
Our Dave wonders why no one ever tries to be a superhero and then decides to fill that particular void himself, despite the obvious flaw in his plan, that he has no super powers. All the same it would be nice to not have to keep handing his cash and mobile phone over to the local thugs. Plus it might just get him his girl.
So he dons a dreadful green wetsuit, calls himself ‘Kick-Ass’, heads out to thwart crime and promptly gets his ass kicked. He winds up in hospital but he is undeterred. Once patched up, with metal plates holding his bones together and with severed nerve endings, he is now less susceptible to pain. Belief slightly suspended.
His modest ambition for Kick-Ass, simply to rescue a cat, ends up with him accidentally intervening in a mugging and when he gets filmed fighting off three men he becomes an overnight internet sensation. He also finally gets Katie's attentions, although for the wrong reason. Yep, she assumes he's gay, told you it works.
When he attempts to do a good deed for Katie, in dealing with some unwanted attention she is getting, he gets himself in over his head. He has stumbled into the world of gangster Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong). Luckily for him he discovers he is not the only super hero in town as 'Big Daddy' (Nicolas Cage) and his homicidal killing machine of a daughter, the twelve year old 'Hit Girl' (Chloe Moretz) come to his rescue.
On the plus side, he unmasks Kiss-Ass in front of Katie, confesses he’s not actually gay and once she gets over the initial disappointment, he gets his shag. Result.
This is perhaps ample compensation because from this point onwards it is no longer his movie. The insanely violent Hit Girl simply takes over, dominates every scene she's in and gets all the best lines to boot. She is the character even Quentin Tarantino hasn’t thought of. She whirlwinds through the movie, slaughtering anybody who gets in her way, hurling unrepeatable dialogue as she does so and boy does she look smug about it. Her enjoyment of mass murder is simply infectious and the violence... well it's never ending as she racks up the body count. It’s all very entertaining but I have no idea how the film gets away with so much under its 15 certificate.
Then there’s the great soundtrack. Good stuff from Primal Scream, The Little Ones, Sparks, The New York Dolls are all used at exactly the right moments but then any film that has the The Dickies’ ‘Banana Splits’ in it has got be on the money. Daughter will kill me if I don't mention The Prodigy. Oh and there’s also music from that woman, Ellie Goulding, too. Every silver lining has a cloud of course.
As you can perhaps tell I quite liked this one. It’s a blast. The bad guys are good, or rather bad, and believable. In fact there are very few, if any, unbelievable bits or ridiculous plot twists and when someone dies, they stay dead.
The acting is good too. Mark Strong, as ever, makes a good villain, his character getting more and more violent as things go against him. Cage is excellent as Hit Girl’s doting father and Moretz herself is simply brilliant. Oh and I nearly forgot our Dave, Aaron Johnson, yeah he's pretty good too.
If there is a criticism it is that it probably gets too carried away with itself and moves from being a clever pastiche into simply being a superhero movie itself. I also have a problem with Red Mist, who's dressed up like a drag queen and Hit Girl is uncharacteristically under-prepared for the final battle but it's kind of hard to slate.
In the end, I get up around 12:00 and give the dogs a session on the park. When I get back there’s only time for fifteen minutes at home before we head out again, although we’ve only just got up. Isn’t this how students live? I think I can remember... We’re head out, intending to do an hour at the gym before meeting the kids (yes the whole family) in town for a film at 5:30 and a meal. Together! Happy families or what?
So what great film is it that has drawn us all together like this?
Well it’s another of those superhero spoof movie and I’ve been talked into seeing it... However, this one is funny, very knowing, it has a plot, a sharp script and ermm, even character development.
Unpromisingly it starts out like teen romcom with Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) living an existence that is mundane but typically normal. He is unnoticed by most people and particularly by girls, especially the girl of his dreams, the lovely Katie (Lyndsy Fonseca). His only chance of getting her to even talk to him is to turn gay, perhaps... or perhaps not.
Our Dave wonders why no one ever tries to be a superhero and then decides to fill that particular void himself, despite the obvious flaw in his plan, that he has no super powers. All the same it would be nice to not have to keep handing his cash and mobile phone over to the local thugs. Plus it might just get him his girl.
So he dons a dreadful green wetsuit, calls himself ‘Kick-Ass’, heads out to thwart crime and promptly gets his ass kicked. He winds up in hospital but he is undeterred. Once patched up, with metal plates holding his bones together and with severed nerve endings, he is now less susceptible to pain. Belief slightly suspended.
His modest ambition for Kick-Ass, simply to rescue a cat, ends up with him accidentally intervening in a mugging and when he gets filmed fighting off three men he becomes an overnight internet sensation. He also finally gets Katie's attentions, although for the wrong reason. Yep, she assumes he's gay, told you it works.
When he attempts to do a good deed for Katie, in dealing with some unwanted attention she is getting, he gets himself in over his head. He has stumbled into the world of gangster Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong). Luckily for him he discovers he is not the only super hero in town as 'Big Daddy' (Nicolas Cage) and his homicidal killing machine of a daughter, the twelve year old 'Hit Girl' (Chloe Moretz) come to his rescue.
On the plus side, he unmasks Kiss-Ass in front of Katie, confesses he’s not actually gay and once she gets over the initial disappointment, he gets his shag. Result.
This is perhaps ample compensation because from this point onwards it is no longer his movie. The insanely violent Hit Girl simply takes over, dominates every scene she's in and gets all the best lines to boot. She is the character even Quentin Tarantino hasn’t thought of. She whirlwinds through the movie, slaughtering anybody who gets in her way, hurling unrepeatable dialogue as she does so and boy does she look smug about it. Her enjoyment of mass murder is simply infectious and the violence... well it's never ending as she racks up the body count. It’s all very entertaining but I have no idea how the film gets away with so much under its 15 certificate.
Then there’s the great soundtrack. Good stuff from Primal Scream, The Little Ones, Sparks, The New York Dolls are all used at exactly the right moments but then any film that has the The Dickies’ ‘Banana Splits’ in it has got be on the money. Daughter will kill me if I don't mention The Prodigy. Oh and there’s also music from that woman, Ellie Goulding, too. Every silver lining has a cloud of course.
As you can perhaps tell I quite liked this one. It’s a blast. The bad guys are good, or rather bad, and believable. In fact there are very few, if any, unbelievable bits or ridiculous plot twists and when someone dies, they stay dead.
The acting is good too. Mark Strong, as ever, makes a good villain, his character getting more and more violent as things go against him. Cage is excellent as Hit Girl’s doting father and Moretz herself is simply brilliant. Oh and I nearly forgot our Dave, Aaron Johnson, yeah he's pretty good too.
If there is a criticism it is that it probably gets too carried away with itself and moves from being a clever pastiche into simply being a superhero movie itself. I also have a problem with Red Mist, who's dressed up like a drag queen and Hit Girl is uncharacteristically under-prepared for the final battle but it's kind of hard to slate.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Too Many Nemeses
All the way to Scunthorpe for an 8.30am start and all for one run before lunch. We have five other runs but they will all be in the afternoon. Doggo kind of makes it all worthwhile with his usual clear round but only just. Suppose it was his first outdoor show of the season, so I’ll let him off, one of us is probably just rusty.
Then it’s time to walk Psycho’s first course. MD is making his debut at a full Kennel Club show and it’s not exactly a nice course to start with, a real toughie. Thankfully though no tyre. I would say that the tyre is, at the moment, our nemesis but MD probably has too many nemeses to mention.
Despite the toughness of the course, his performance is pretty decent, fifteen faults (that’s three errors at five faults each). His second course though is a horror show, we get eliminated but what’s worse is that for the first time ever a judge asks me to leave the ring because he is taking so long to do the weaves. How embarrassing. In five years of competing with Doggo I’ve never been asked to leave the ring but I understood the judge’s point of view. We were holding up proceedings. He wouldn’t do the weaves at all. The only reason that I can think of for this is because there were only six of them and I’ve only been training him on the full twelve.
His final course had a tyre in it, so we were beaten before we started really but guess what, we get asked to leave the ring again and by a different judge. This time I was not happy. Just because I indulged in a spot of ‘illegal training’ by lifting him back onto a missed contact point. We’d only been in the ring ten seconds. That’s never happened before and I’d done that many times with Doggo in past.
Meanwhile Doggo slots in another clear. Then another elimination but not from MD, from Doggo. Gutted. That wasn’t supposed to happen. It was really good course for him too. Evil in fact, just how we like them, the judge was obviously under the influence when she set it. Lots of dogs were getting eliminated which gave us a great chance of a high placing. The start section was horrendous but we negotiated it fine. Then Doggo decided to go for a tunnel that wasn’t even in front of him. Huh! So miffed with him. We are so not speaking.
After all that I need a pint, well several actually. Thankfully L has had an equally traumatic day, so we mop up all the alcohol we can in Nottingham, taking in the Canalhouse and the Newshouse for a bit of variety from our usual haunts.
Then it’s time to walk Psycho’s first course. MD is making his debut at a full Kennel Club show and it’s not exactly a nice course to start with, a real toughie. Thankfully though no tyre. I would say that the tyre is, at the moment, our nemesis but MD probably has too many nemeses to mention.
Despite the toughness of the course, his performance is pretty decent, fifteen faults (that’s three errors at five faults each). His second course though is a horror show, we get eliminated but what’s worse is that for the first time ever a judge asks me to leave the ring because he is taking so long to do the weaves. How embarrassing. In five years of competing with Doggo I’ve never been asked to leave the ring but I understood the judge’s point of view. We were holding up proceedings. He wouldn’t do the weaves at all. The only reason that I can think of for this is because there were only six of them and I’ve only been training him on the full twelve.
His final course had a tyre in it, so we were beaten before we started really but guess what, we get asked to leave the ring again and by a different judge. This time I was not happy. Just because I indulged in a spot of ‘illegal training’ by lifting him back onto a missed contact point. We’d only been in the ring ten seconds. That’s never happened before and I’d done that many times with Doggo in past.
Meanwhile Doggo slots in another clear. Then another elimination but not from MD, from Doggo. Gutted. That wasn’t supposed to happen. It was really good course for him too. Evil in fact, just how we like them, the judge was obviously under the influence when she set it. Lots of dogs were getting eliminated which gave us a great chance of a high placing. The start section was horrendous but we negotiated it fine. Then Doggo decided to go for a tunnel that wasn’t even in front of him. Huh! So miffed with him. We are so not speaking.
After all that I need a pint, well several actually. Thankfully L has had an equally traumatic day, so we mop up all the alcohol we can in Nottingham, taking in the Canalhouse and the Newshouse for a bit of variety from our usual haunts.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Out Of Season
There’s a bit of a commotion outside as I get ready for work this morning. L has only just taken MD out seconds earlier; surely he can’t be in trouble already... Suddenly he is hauled back through the front door in disgrace. In his defence I would say that it was the fault of a particular Jack Russell that had attacked him recently and had chosen that precise moment to walk down our street. So hardly surprising MD was gunning for him. If he’s entitled to gun for anyone, it must be that Jack Russell.
A disappointing pub lunch. Standards aren’t what they used to be. Cold pasta. Yum. Should have complained really but we were in a rush.
Squash. I’m back on a roll and get my one game. It really should have been two. The post-game is good too. Free chip butties in the pub and 6.4% ale on the bar. A sort of Christmas cake and rum sauce flavour. A bit out of season perhaps but very nice. Unfortunately I only get to sip L’s, as I’m driving.
A disappointing pub lunch. Standards aren’t what they used to be. Cold pasta. Yum. Should have complained really but we were in a rush.
Squash. I’m back on a roll and get my one game. It really should have been two. The post-game is good too. Free chip butties in the pub and 6.4% ale on the bar. A sort of Christmas cake and rum sauce flavour. A bit out of season perhaps but very nice. Unfortunately I only get to sip L’s, as I’m driving.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I Was There
On the bike today. The old legs don’t feel up to it but they often don’t, yet once I actually started pedalling they never seem as bad as they did before I started. Again this seems to hold true today. The rain holds off as well but it’s a tad chilly.
Apparently it’s exactly 20 years today since the notorious poll tax riots in central London. I remember it well and this is one of the few times when I can genuinely say, I was there. No I hadn’t gone there to riot or even to protest as it happens. I got involved by complete accident. Honest. A friend and I had travelled down to London that day to see Derby play at Chelsea. This is slightly ironic because in those days Stamford Bridge was the place you went if you wanted a good riot, not Trafalgar Square, but the match went off without incident and in glorious sunshine as I recall. The score, if you’re interested, was 1-1. We even spent the morning by the Thames watching the build up to the varsity boat race. It was, until later at least, a very leisurely day.
Then post-match we headed into central London to meet up with another friend and to grab a beer or two. We hopped on to the tube and then got off to complete mayhem. As a chap ran past us brandishing a scaffolding pole we quickly decided that the best thing to do was a complete u-turn, get back on the tube and move on but... with a great sense of timing, they suddenly decided to close the tube station for safety reasons. Who’s safety? Certainly not ours. So we set out across the war zone to find one that was open. It was an interesting walk as we waded through the broken glass of the shattered shop frontages and past the overturned and sometimes burning cars. Then my mate suddenly yells ‘duck’. Just in time as a bottle smashes on the wall just above my head. Nice.
Eventually we made it to an open tube station, got the hell of there, found our friend and got that beer from a safe distance. Watford I think it was. 20 years... is it really? Seems like yesterday.
My work colleague is on his bike today too and we kind of race home. I lead off but he jumps ahead of me at a roundabout. More fool him, it’s terribly windy, and so I opt to stay behind him, in his slipstream, the rest of the way. He can have his victory; I’ll have the easy ride.
I almost decided not to train MD tonight but then I had a horrible premonition about his first course on Friday which is his first proper Kennel Club event. After which the mere mention of the word ‘tyre’ brings me out in a cold sweat. MD may have to face this particular obstacle and we haven’t practiced it for ages. So, with that worry in my mind, I decided to go.
I went late, as I wasn’t involved in one of the organised sessions but when I arrived a 7.45, 45 minutes after the first class was supposed to start, everyone was stood outside in the cold. Locked out. No one had the master key and the spare had been mislaid... Honestly the clubs powers of organisation never cease to amaze me. Eventually someone turns up with a key and the first class kicks off an hour late just as the people for the second 2nd class start arriving.
For the record, I finally managed to get some training in but I think it's fair to say that if a tyre pops up in MD's course this weekend, we're stuffed.
Apparently it’s exactly 20 years today since the notorious poll tax riots in central London. I remember it well and this is one of the few times when I can genuinely say, I was there. No I hadn’t gone there to riot or even to protest as it happens. I got involved by complete accident. Honest. A friend and I had travelled down to London that day to see Derby play at Chelsea. This is slightly ironic because in those days Stamford Bridge was the place you went if you wanted a good riot, not Trafalgar Square, but the match went off without incident and in glorious sunshine as I recall. The score, if you’re interested, was 1-1. We even spent the morning by the Thames watching the build up to the varsity boat race. It was, until later at least, a very leisurely day.
Then post-match we headed into central London to meet up with another friend and to grab a beer or two. We hopped on to the tube and then got off to complete mayhem. As a chap ran past us brandishing a scaffolding pole we quickly decided that the best thing to do was a complete u-turn, get back on the tube and move on but... with a great sense of timing, they suddenly decided to close the tube station for safety reasons. Who’s safety? Certainly not ours. So we set out across the war zone to find one that was open. It was an interesting walk as we waded through the broken glass of the shattered shop frontages and past the overturned and sometimes burning cars. Then my mate suddenly yells ‘duck’. Just in time as a bottle smashes on the wall just above my head. Nice.
Eventually we made it to an open tube station, got the hell of there, found our friend and got that beer from a safe distance. Watford I think it was. 20 years... is it really? Seems like yesterday.
My work colleague is on his bike today too and we kind of race home. I lead off but he jumps ahead of me at a roundabout. More fool him, it’s terribly windy, and so I opt to stay behind him, in his slipstream, the rest of the way. He can have his victory; I’ll have the easy ride.
I almost decided not to train MD tonight but then I had a horrible premonition about his first course on Friday which is his first proper Kennel Club event. After which the mere mention of the word ‘tyre’ brings me out in a cold sweat. MD may have to face this particular obstacle and we haven’t practiced it for ages. So, with that worry in my mind, I decided to go.
I went late, as I wasn’t involved in one of the organised sessions but when I arrived a 7.45, 45 minutes after the first class was supposed to start, everyone was stood outside in the cold. Locked out. No one had the master key and the spare had been mislaid... Honestly the clubs powers of organisation never cease to amaze me. Eventually someone turns up with a key and the first class kicks off an hour late just as the people for the second 2nd class start arriving.
For the record, I finally managed to get some training in but I think it's fair to say that if a tyre pops up in MD's course this weekend, we're stuffed.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Permission To Kick
L admits that ‘it wrenches to say it but perhaps I do need kicking out of bed early... oh dear, what am I saying?’ indeed. What is she saying? That sounds like permission to kick to me... but I haven’t the heart to do it this morning. Well not as I’m in no hurry myself as I’m taking the car to work today. If I had to get up early to run or something then I’d have had no such qualms.
Almost a pleasant drive to work as well, probably because its school holidays in Nottingham, although not yet in Derby.
Tonight, the first of a new series of training sessions for MD but hopefully I’ll be able to train them both. Details are sketchy though, so I’m taking nothing for granted given my club’s powers of organisation or lack of them.
When I get there I realise that there’s one crucial thing that they’ve forgotten to tell me. This venue doesn’t have a roof, it doesn’t even have sides, in fact it’s open air, on a hill and it’s been raining all day. Thankfully the rain largely holds off and it’s a good session. After which I am made to sign an oath in blood that I will train ‘whatever the weather’ to guarantee the trainers fee. I may live to regret that.
One thing that’s a first tonight is that the dogs get to see each other run for the first time. Usually one of them is in the car whilst the other is doing their stuff. Tonight there is room to tether them up by the training ground.
Doggo’s immediate reaction appears to be ‘hang on. What’s he up to? That’s my sport’ and he don’t seem too happy about it. Perhaps it might spur him on a bit and I might get another couple of years out of him if he doesn’t like MD stepping into his shoes.
Almost a pleasant drive to work as well, probably because its school holidays in Nottingham, although not yet in Derby.
Tonight, the first of a new series of training sessions for MD but hopefully I’ll be able to train them both. Details are sketchy though, so I’m taking nothing for granted given my club’s powers of organisation or lack of them.
When I get there I realise that there’s one crucial thing that they’ve forgotten to tell me. This venue doesn’t have a roof, it doesn’t even have sides, in fact it’s open air, on a hill and it’s been raining all day. Thankfully the rain largely holds off and it’s a good session. After which I am made to sign an oath in blood that I will train ‘whatever the weather’ to guarantee the trainers fee. I may live to regret that.
One thing that’s a first tonight is that the dogs get to see each other run for the first time. Usually one of them is in the car whilst the other is doing their stuff. Tonight there is room to tether them up by the training ground.
Doggo’s immediate reaction appears to be ‘hang on. What’s he up to? That’s my sport’ and he don’t seem too happy about it. Perhaps it might spur him on a bit and I might get another couple of years out of him if he doesn’t like MD stepping into his shoes.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
East European Retro
This morning I get the bus into work and gain first hand experience of Derby’s new bus station. I suppose you have to expect teething problems but it took us fifteen minutes from arriving at our usual dropping off point in Derby to getting to the bus station though all the lights/traffic and then queuing to park in the bay. Hope these are problems they can iron out or else it’s going to play havoc with the Red Arrow’s desire to always be early and where will they stack up all the Red Arrows when they arrive in pairs. Sometimes they even arrive in threes and when they up the frequency to every ten minutes, as they intend to, it could be in fours.
The bus station itself is a bit cramped inside but might be better when (if) it gets finished. Not that they seem to be even working on it any more. Rumour is there’s no rush as they can’t fill the shop and business units that will come with it.
Architecturally, it’s a wonderful piece of 1960's East European retro, in the style so favoured by the dictators of that era. Just what Derby needs; more grey metalwork and cladding. You half expect to see someone painting over the sign saying ‘Stasi’ and painting ‘Bus Station’ over the top.
There’s no dog training tonight, so the dogs get a run on the park which is now open until a staggeringly late 7.30 where it rains on us, of course.
Whilst I’m out I miss the fun as Leeds and Reading Festival tickets go on sale. Probably wise. I leave Daughter sat at the computer with her eyes and fingers on several ticket websites. I almost say ‘make sure you buy the right ones’ but I think to myself, don’t be stupid, she’s almost an adult, she knows what she’s doing...
Then half way around the park it dawns on me that she may be an adult but she’s still female (no offence) and she has recently gone pure Essex girl bleach blonde... but I’m sure she knows what she’s doing...
So it comes as no great surprise when I get back to find out that she has got a bit over excited and now is the proud owner of not only a ticket for the Leeds Festival but one for Reading too. It might be a tad difficult to keep her eye on so many stages, given certainly fairly obvious logistically problems.
She wonders why I’m not annoyed... you kind of get used to little setbacks like this after sixteen years. So if anyone wants a Reading ticket, click on the email link above.
The bus station itself is a bit cramped inside but might be better when (if) it gets finished. Not that they seem to be even working on it any more. Rumour is there’s no rush as they can’t fill the shop and business units that will come with it.
Architecturally, it’s a wonderful piece of 1960's East European retro, in the style so favoured by the dictators of that era. Just what Derby needs; more grey metalwork and cladding. You half expect to see someone painting over the sign saying ‘Stasi’ and painting ‘Bus Station’ over the top.
There’s no dog training tonight, so the dogs get a run on the park which is now open until a staggeringly late 7.30 where it rains on us, of course.
Whilst I’m out I miss the fun as Leeds and Reading Festival tickets go on sale. Probably wise. I leave Daughter sat at the computer with her eyes and fingers on several ticket websites. I almost say ‘make sure you buy the right ones’ but I think to myself, don’t be stupid, she’s almost an adult, she knows what she’s doing...
Then half way around the park it dawns on me that she may be an adult but she’s still female (no offence) and she has recently gone pure Essex girl bleach blonde... but I’m sure she knows what she’s doing...
So it comes as no great surprise when I get back to find out that she has got a bit over excited and now is the proud owner of not only a ticket for the Leeds Festival but one for Reading too. It might be a tad difficult to keep her eye on so many stages, given certainly fairly obvious logistically problems.
She wonders why I’m not annoyed... you kind of get used to little setbacks like this after sixteen years. So if anyone wants a Reading ticket, click on the email link above.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
