Yesterday, I caught up with Newton, an old school friend from my years in Devon. I hadn't seen him for about five years so it was good to catch up. He'd invited me out last Wednesday to the Coventry greyhound track, but I'd already made arrangements to have tea at Daniels. I met Newton in Leamington Spa which, even on a drizzly February evening, still looks better than Coventry. It reminds me a bit of Cheltenham, another spa town; full of character with its old, Georgian buildings. I hadn't been to Leamington for four years and I didn't know it that well, so I wandered about trying to find Wetherspoons when I arrived.
Eventually, he came and met me on the street, and we went back for a curry at a local Indian. The food was very tasty. We ordered a big selection so that everybody could tuck in. The staff were pleasant as well: at the end of the meal, they gave us some ice cream and coffees on the house (still, we probably paid for them in the tip).The company was good as well. As well as Newton, there was his girlfriend Claire and friends from work. They're all training to be policemen / policewomen, so sitting around the table with them I didn't know whether to feel safe or scared! After the meal, me, Newton, Claire and their friend Caroline went to Wetherspoons. We tested our trivia on the Pub Quiz machine, with disasterous results (I was okay on music but little else!). We then went onto a cheesy club which gave me a chance to throw some (mis) shapes on the dancefloor.
All in all, it was a great night and a pleasure to see Newton again.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
No Direction Home
For the typical Alpha Male, there are several unwritten commandments. Specifically, if you're a male driver, there's one commandment you have to adhere to: never admit you're lost.
"No, no, it's around here somewhere." That's the first warning sign: a denial that our driver hasn't got a clue where he's going. "I know this road like the back of my hand," usually follows. So if he's wearing driving gloves or he's Abu Hamza, you know you're in trouble (still, you'd have to be brave travelling in a vehicle with Abu Hamza at the helm, wouldn't you?)
The voice of reason is provided by the wife / girlfriend / significant other: "Why don't you ask somebody for directions?" Yeah, right. He'd sooner guillotine his own manhood with the electric window than ask for directions, particularly if it's from another man. I recall one instance in Cheltenham, when an elderly man stopped, wound down his window, and bellowed the curt inquiry: "Oxford!" Evidently only asking under extreme duress from his partner in the passenger seat, he felt adding any more syllables might comprise his masculinity . "That way," I replied, stunned, not quite sure which direction Oxford lay in.
Of course, there are some who will never, ever ask. Take the Competitive Dad character in 'The Fast Show,' who, when getting lost in Germany, relents responsibility to his son to ask directions of a passer-by. He then proceeds to berate the passer-by for his English pronunciation: "It's this road, not zis road!" Therein lies the hidden benefit of asking a stranger, particularly a foreign one: they become an easy scape goat when our driver still ends up lost. Along with the poor partner in the passenger seat, who, despite doing a sterling job as navigator, bears the brunt of our driver's fury: "Are you sure you're not holding that map upside down?"
"No, no, it's around here somewhere." That's the first warning sign: a denial that our driver hasn't got a clue where he's going. "I know this road like the back of my hand," usually follows. So if he's wearing driving gloves or he's Abu Hamza, you know you're in trouble (still, you'd have to be brave travelling in a vehicle with Abu Hamza at the helm, wouldn't you?)
The voice of reason is provided by the wife / girlfriend / significant other: "Why don't you ask somebody for directions?" Yeah, right. He'd sooner guillotine his own manhood with the electric window than ask for directions, particularly if it's from another man. I recall one instance in Cheltenham, when an elderly man stopped, wound down his window, and bellowed the curt inquiry: "Oxford!" Evidently only asking under extreme duress from his partner in the passenger seat, he felt adding any more syllables might comprise his masculinity . "That way," I replied, stunned, not quite sure which direction Oxford lay in.
Of course, there are some who will never, ever ask. Take the Competitive Dad character in 'The Fast Show,' who, when getting lost in Germany, relents responsibility to his son to ask directions of a passer-by. He then proceeds to berate the passer-by for his English pronunciation: "It's this road, not zis road!" Therein lies the hidden benefit of asking a stranger, particularly a foreign one: they become an easy scape goat when our driver still ends up lost. Along with the poor partner in the passenger seat, who, despite doing a sterling job as navigator, bears the brunt of our driver's fury: "Are you sure you're not holding that map upside down?"
Monday, February 13, 2006
This week I have been mostly enjoying...
Saturday Night And Sunday Morning - 1960 'kitchen-sink' drama, starring Albert Finney, namechecked by Morrissey and Arctic Monkeys.
Belle And Sebastian - Push Barman To Open Old Wounds
Harry Hill's TV Burp - ITV, 5.30pm Saturday
Belle And Sebastian - Push Barman To Open Old Wounds
Harry Hill's TV Burp - ITV, 5.30pm Saturday
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Computer says ‘not bad’
The I.T. Crowd
Channel 4 – 9.00 pm
Even with a pedigree like Graham Linehan’s (‘The Day Today’, ‘Father Ted,’ ‘Black Books’), Channel 4’s decision to show the first two episodes of his new sitcom ‘The I.T. Crowd’ back-to-back is unclear. Perhaps they felt, as with ‘Father Ted,’ it needed a couple of episodes to get to know the characters. So the first episode was spent mostly setting up the situation of Jen (Katherine Parkinson) disrupting the geeky world of computer nerds Roy (Chris O’Dowd) and Maurice (Richard Ayoade). Despite the inevitable IT clichés early on (technophobe Jen forgetting to plug her computer in) the show had got into gear by the second episode. Chris Morris was reminiscent of Reggie Perrin’s C.J. as the overbearing boss Denholm, and there was evidence of the surreal, knowing plot-telegraphing that Linehan excels at (involving a barefoot Jen and a Japanese businessman stomping like Godzilla in a pair of Doc Martens).
As with Gervais and Merchant’s ever-so-slightly disappointing ‘Extras,’ ‘The I.T. Crowd’ has its work cut out in following a true sitcom classic. Indeed, there were moments that had echoes of its priestly predecessor: the old woman falling down the stairs recalled many similar pratfalls in ‘Ted,’ while Maurice’s lack of nous is pure Father Dougal (“why are you giving me the secret signal to shut up?”).
Worth logging on for next week.
Channel 4 – 9.00 pm
Even with a pedigree like Graham Linehan’s (‘The Day Today’, ‘Father Ted,’ ‘Black Books’), Channel 4’s decision to show the first two episodes of his new sitcom ‘The I.T. Crowd’ back-to-back is unclear. Perhaps they felt, as with ‘Father Ted,’ it needed a couple of episodes to get to know the characters. So the first episode was spent mostly setting up the situation of Jen (Katherine Parkinson) disrupting the geeky world of computer nerds Roy (Chris O’Dowd) and Maurice (Richard Ayoade). Despite the inevitable IT clichés early on (technophobe Jen forgetting to plug her computer in) the show had got into gear by the second episode. Chris Morris was reminiscent of Reggie Perrin’s C.J. as the overbearing boss Denholm, and there was evidence of the surreal, knowing plot-telegraphing that Linehan excels at (involving a barefoot Jen and a Japanese businessman stomping like Godzilla in a pair of Doc Martens).
As with Gervais and Merchant’s ever-so-slightly disappointing ‘Extras,’ ‘The I.T. Crowd’ has its work cut out in following a true sitcom classic. Indeed, there were moments that had echoes of its priestly predecessor: the old woman falling down the stairs recalled many similar pratfalls in ‘Ted,’ while Maurice’s lack of nous is pure Father Dougal (“why are you giving me the secret signal to shut up?”).
Worth logging on for next week.
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