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After A Weekend At Home...
Mar. 6th, 2006 02:35 pm...getting back to Calton Walk and what passes for normalcy had something of a drag about it. Brief escape to Emma's sorted that out, as she was thankfully back from her trip home.
The weekend was good - and like most weekends at home with the parents, alcohol-fuelled. Eating and drinking in the pub on Friday night, after which we headed over to the paternal grandmother's on Saturday afternoon as I hadn't seen her for longer than I should have allowed to happen, before heading out drinking again with the parents and their friends. Getting back allowed me to watch one of the fights I had wanted to see, but decided that in order to actually be awake in time for Sunday lunch, I should probably video the Calzaghe fight and watch it in the morning.
And I'm very glad I did.
For a world title fight, it was about as one-sided as it gets. It wasn't supposed to be a walkover - the two guys had a combined 62-0 record coming into it, and both held a version of the world title. I don't think anyone was ready, however, for the number that Joe Calzaghe did on Jeff Lacy's face for what must have felt like, to him, several hours worth of a bad night. Joe had time to lower his hands, dance around, cinematically wind up his shots or show Jeff where he was going to swing, before landing one with the other fist and following up with combination after combination. It was like watching a man fighting a boy, and only a hair away from being tragic. The fact that Jeff was still standing at the end of it is redeeming, but there is very little respect to be gained in standing there having your head bounced off your shoulders for twelve rounds when you are so comprehensively outclassed. Joe won 119-107, 119-107, 119-105, the only thing stopping him from getting a perfect maximum was an illegal backhander he threw in an almost Ronnie O'Sullivan like "I can beat you with one arm behind my back" gesture. Thanks to Sky being the main shower of boxing in this country, I've never been able to see many fights in their entirety - hats off to ITV for shelling out for this one. It was certainly worth it.
Sunday lunch was as good as mum and dad working in tandem usually are, and the maternal grandmother came over as usual and showered me with chocolate raisins. It was a very restful weekend, and only served to remind how, though I may enjoy my job relatively speaking, it's not a patch on sitting at home with your choice of alcohol doing nothing. I am, and remain, a true slacker at heart.
Emma joined GASP today, and seems to relatively happy with it, so think my constant badgering there has worked - it's a good way of destressing the standard Monday crapness away, and most people leave feeling better than they arrive. Faith healing in the most literal sense of the term.
Tonight sees me trying to improve Pieter into something that has more than one dimension - I've got him down to go slightly brooding, then come out as a natural leader. Whether this will cause Tim's character to work alongside him - or try to shoot him in the back for daring to disagree with him - remains to be seen.
Having now read two differing yet unequivocally damning LJ reviews of Aeon Flux, I've decided that my money would be better spent on buying coffee now and V for Vendetta when it comes out. Nice to have a slew of films that appeal to the sci-fi adventure fan in me - Underworld Evo was worth the money, everyone's gushing about V and X3 is just cresting the horizon and heading towards us. All we need now is the news that the company that has been sitting on Iain M. Banks' Consider Phlebas for four years has decided to go ahead and make it, and my year will be quite happily sorted as far as movie news in concerned.
If I can see the entire film happening in my head when I read the book, why can't a film producer?
The weekend was good - and like most weekends at home with the parents, alcohol-fuelled. Eating and drinking in the pub on Friday night, after which we headed over to the paternal grandmother's on Saturday afternoon as I hadn't seen her for longer than I should have allowed to happen, before heading out drinking again with the parents and their friends. Getting back allowed me to watch one of the fights I had wanted to see, but decided that in order to actually be awake in time for Sunday lunch, I should probably video the Calzaghe fight and watch it in the morning.
And I'm very glad I did.
For a world title fight, it was about as one-sided as it gets. It wasn't supposed to be a walkover - the two guys had a combined 62-0 record coming into it, and both held a version of the world title. I don't think anyone was ready, however, for the number that Joe Calzaghe did on Jeff Lacy's face for what must have felt like, to him, several hours worth of a bad night. Joe had time to lower his hands, dance around, cinematically wind up his shots or show Jeff where he was going to swing, before landing one with the other fist and following up with combination after combination. It was like watching a man fighting a boy, and only a hair away from being tragic. The fact that Jeff was still standing at the end of it is redeeming, but there is very little respect to be gained in standing there having your head bounced off your shoulders for twelve rounds when you are so comprehensively outclassed. Joe won 119-107, 119-107, 119-105, the only thing stopping him from getting a perfect maximum was an illegal backhander he threw in an almost Ronnie O'Sullivan like "I can beat you with one arm behind my back" gesture. Thanks to Sky being the main shower of boxing in this country, I've never been able to see many fights in their entirety - hats off to ITV for shelling out for this one. It was certainly worth it.
Sunday lunch was as good as mum and dad working in tandem usually are, and the maternal grandmother came over as usual and showered me with chocolate raisins. It was a very restful weekend, and only served to remind how, though I may enjoy my job relatively speaking, it's not a patch on sitting at home with your choice of alcohol doing nothing. I am, and remain, a true slacker at heart.
Emma joined GASP today, and seems to relatively happy with it, so think my constant badgering there has worked - it's a good way of destressing the standard Monday crapness away, and most people leave feeling better than they arrive. Faith healing in the most literal sense of the term.
Tonight sees me trying to improve Pieter into something that has more than one dimension - I've got him down to go slightly brooding, then come out as a natural leader. Whether this will cause Tim's character to work alongside him - or try to shoot him in the back for daring to disagree with him - remains to be seen.
Having now read two differing yet unequivocally damning LJ reviews of Aeon Flux, I've decided that my money would be better spent on buying coffee now and V for Vendetta when it comes out. Nice to have a slew of films that appeal to the sci-fi adventure fan in me - Underworld Evo was worth the money, everyone's gushing about V and X3 is just cresting the horizon and heading towards us. All we need now is the news that the company that has been sitting on Iain M. Banks' Consider Phlebas for four years has decided to go ahead and make it, and my year will be quite happily sorted as far as movie news in concerned.
If I can see the entire film happening in my head when I read the book, why can't a film producer?
