If I’m honest, this week has all about one man: Jack Reacher.
I’ve been aware of Lee Child’s slightly cartoonish (and maybe more than slightly outdated) protagonist ever since Tom Cruise was hilariously miscast in a couple of films. But I’ve never read one of the books (I only just found out Child is British and went to uni’ in Sheffield).
But the other month I picked up the fourth Jack Reacher novel in one of those train station book exchange ‘libraries’, and got round to reading it this week. It was an entertaining, actually-way-better-than-I-thought-it-would-be adventure romp and I may read more of them at some point.
Full disclosure: last year the Times Literary Supplement ran a column about how great Lee Child’s books are. Am I the kind of person who only reads ‘trash’ if the TLS says it’s ok to do so? No, but I’m adjacent to that person.
Last weekend we sat down as watched the new Todd Haynes film,Dark Waters (Mark Ruffalo versus a huge chemical corp in one of those ‘My God, they knew!’ true-ish stories). Cue paunchy, dour Ruffalo and lots of miserable blue/green shades seeping into every frame like a toxic chemical. It’s ok, but doesn’t deserve it’s 127 minute run time (not a lot does these days… am I just getting old?).
Buster has been with us for five weeks now and his personality and behaviour are settling down into something resembling routine. We chose the worst couple of weeks to get a dog (we’ve had to keep an extra tight grip on his lead to stop storms Ciara and Dennis whisking him away like Toto) but it’s very much worth it. There is a special kind of contentedness that comes from lying on the sofa, one hand turning the pages of your book, while the other strokes the dog sitting at your feet.
A bit of music to finish off the week. Here’s the new album from a guy who was one of the people who I met in the early days of the internet (when the social web was fun and inviting and creative): Dr Rubberfunk’s My Life at 45.