An Early Valentine Poem for all you old romantics out there

              You're Never Alone When You Are in Love ©

                               By

      

                         Michael Casey

       Love is being together , Love is a smile , a Look , A Touch

       Or Just A Sigh , Not really knowing why you chose one another .

       Yet Together Till You Die

       

       Love is a Kiss soft and gentle on the cheek which warms your 

       heart and makes you glad you chose one another .

       A Kiss can lead to more but I'll leave Passion locked Safely 

       behind a bedroom door

       Passion spent you'll not give up each not even for Lent .

       You'll just lie in warm embrace and remember you forgot to say

       grace .

       Whispers and Promises are made , plans for the future and if

 

      she put her hair this way , Do you think it would suit her ?

      Then giggles and more embraces ,  Till the Night is over and with  

      a dig in the ribs you make him move over .

      Then your oneness complete , you have to put up with his cold feet !

      But when you are apart your hearts are still one , 

     Thought half is  absent you are still one .

      His socks under the bed , and after what you said .

      His  "toys" scattered about ,  and the clout you'll  give  when  he 

      returns and the warmth of your body he yearns .

      His cold feet to chill you after he thrills you , are absent yet the 

      thought makes you smile , at least you have the comfort for  a while.

      His grins and leers ,  which makes you smile at least  you'll  have 

 

      peace for a while .

      But his heart is still with you , the love is always there - as 

      bright as your fair hair .

      Close your eyes and he is still there ,  Remember the embrace as  

      he played his fingers across your face .

      Let your dreams go and remember the whispers in your ear, warm

      kisses on your shoulder before he gets bolder . The warmth of love

      that soars through your blood .

      Dream long , Dream deep , your Man toils while you sleep, though 

      you are apart you are still together whatever the weather , for you

      are never apart for he is  locked in your heart .

      Though sometimes he can be trying , there's Never any need of 

   

      crying for your love is Undying.

      Always remember he fills your heart even when you are apart

                        End

A New Beginning Or Going Around in Circles

A friend revealed he had an angina attack, made me  wonder about my own mortality. I've been putting off writing Tears For A Butcher for a number of years. I didn't want to start something and then not finish it if I got sidetracked. Or why add to my collection of writing if finding a publisher was so difficult.

I have produced 3 books, 2 being collections of pieces:-

 Essays and Plays

 plus 

MichaelGCasey'sBlogs2011

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker being my comic novel 

So why Have I decided to resume Tears For A Butcher? Well these past 18 months I've done loads of blogging, enough for a book. So I just wondered could I get back in the groove as far as novel writing was concerned. SO chapter one of Tears For A Butcher was written years ago, and I've got ideas for several chapters and the big finale. So indirectly because of my friend I'm going  to see where the ideas take me. Chapter2 is called Old People's Home, I do know a fair bit about Old People's Homes having visited my dad every single day for 3 years and then very often for 2,5 more years. I also wrote a play called Revolution set in an old people's home,  I did not actually finish that play, but the ideas won't be wasted. Last night I did a bit of thinking and the first page was nailed. Today I've done some more thinking and so the chapter is nearly fully formed in my imagination.  I do write comedy so I have to have a left of field view on things. Once I have the idea the writing is very fast. But I'll not be forcing myself, just enjoying it, as I do with my blogs.

The Trouble With Technology

The trouble with Technology (c)

By

Michael Casey

The trouble with technology is that we all use it, now if we just left it all alone then we all have no problems . Simple really but we all just can't leave it alone, we all just have you use it . In the beginning if we wanted water we'd fetch the bucket and drop it down a well. My mother was born just 30feet from the sea , but they were fortunate because they had their own well , so they went outside and dropped the bucket down the well and then they had water . Then technology comes along and we just turn a tap and we have clean water instantly . We have hot water too , at the turn of a tap . In one generation so many changes . However technology then works against us , because we assume it will always work and that there will be no problems

We don't even know where the stopcock is , so our homes flood and then we discover we are not covered by our insurance .

My mother grew up with an oil lamp hanging above , no luxury of gas lamps for her , as for electricity , that was just a dream . Nowadays how could any society manage without electricity , its impossible to believe life without electricity . No tv , no radio , no freezers , no street lighting , no traffic lights, the list goes on and on . As for indoor plumbing , the luxury of a hot bath , the WC in the home . My mother grew up with no indoor plumbing , if you needed the bathroom as the American's say , then you'd leave the house and pick your spot in a field with the cows gazing on , as for toilet paper you had a blade of grass to wipe your %^** . As for me we did not have such hardships , we had an outside WC , which we did not have to share with any other family , just 8 Caseys sharing our outside bog/toilet . There was a yard light to illuminate the way and a light in the toilet too . Which was sheer luxury compared to my mum's and my dad's childhoods . My dad would always come home and immediately switch off the yard light because it was wasting electricity . Then a shout would go up "Put the light on" , and my dad would always say "I didn't know" . Then there was the indignity of running out of paper . My brother Tony had a very good sense of humour so it was always the case that I'd shout from the yard "More Bog Roll" which is the English slang for toilet paper . Tony was kind so he'd always bring out a fresh supply of paper , only he liked to tease so he'd push one sheet , just one sheet of paper under the door and say that's all there was in the house , and that mom said I'd have to use my finger . Then he'd go away laughing . He always left a full roll of paper on the doorstep , much to my relief .

Simple technology , we all take for granted , water and electricity . What does all this technology do for us ? It gives us independent comfortable lives , we have clean water , hot water , light and warmth . Then with the miracle of TV we can all watch the world go by , from the comfort of our homes , or the local bar whichever is our true home . We are now a global village as has often been said , but then we become anti social as its easier to watch tv than to interact with real people , we'd rather watch fiction on tv than have a real life . But with technology we can send an email to our neighbour across the road , with pictures and video , rather than leave our castle homes , rather than going over for a coffee and a bar of chocolate .That's one view the optimistic view says that we truly can break down barriers by using the miracle of email to keep us connected though we are thousands of miles apart . I have to hold my hand up and admit that I am an email Junky , I did send up to 5 emails a day to my friend in another part of the office , because we were both having fun . Then when I fell in love with my one true love it was ONLY because of the miracle of email that our love survived .I sent my girlfriend long long emails everyday for 6 months . She was in Shanghai while I was in Birmingham . My heart was breaking with love and hope until finally she came back to me . I'd come home from work at 3am and hit the keyboard , with luck because of the time difference we'd actually be live and talking almost in real time .You cannot imagine how heart rending it was to come home to an email , to get up in the afternoon and read an email before going on night shift .I think whoever invented email should be made a saint, without email our love would not have lasted . An exchange of letters takes 14 days from Birmingham to Shanghai , so thank God for email and God himself KNOWS just how much I mean that , Sainthood is not high enough reward for the inventor of email .Is it Saint Bill Gates ? The telephone is fantastic , but too expensive , I know my phone bill reached 4 figures , but an email can be read over and over again , and even printed off , so it is a letter.

So I confess email is the most important leap in technology of the 20th Century , as far as I am concerned .

The next stage in the technology story are mobile phones that send/receive video and tv , so we are literally wired up where ever we are in the world science fiction becoming science fact . We all used empty match boxes to pretend we were Captain Kirk communicating to the Enterprise but now they are here for real . If you have been in a theatre,church,hospital and these things bleep you have to decide for yourself are they useful or just a real pain in the *&^% . On balance they are good , but people have to be a lot more considerate , nobody else wants to hear their conversations if they are in church or at the theatre or even cinema . I remember a conversation I had at dinner on Xmas Eve just gone , the guy sat next to me happen to design mobile phones , he was very very good at his job , but I did warn caution about saturation point being reached . Then today 4months on , I am proved right , the mobile giants are in trouble , why , because of saturation point now being reached .

I don't want to end on low note , so I'll tell another anecdote , we all remember when we had our first colour tv , how wonderful it was and how we all marvel and the colours . The BBC started showing snooker because of the colours , and now tv without snooker would be unimaginable . Then remote control came in , so we'd try different positions and even outside the house and through the glass into the room where the tv was . Technology makes us all like children , its supposed to be a triumph of engineering and technology but really its our greatest toy , and our greatest joy . On Saturday my dad will come out of the old peoples home to spend the day with me and my Chinese wife in our home . I'll be able to show him the internet and I hope I can bring tears of joy to his eyes as I show him County Kerry on the computer monitor . Sitting in my living room in Birmingham he can read the Irish newspapers and see his homeland where he started as a blacksmith in the 1930s . This is how we should be using technology .

End

20/4/2001

Well this piece is ten years old now, where have the years frown to

I'm still hoping  finally I'll find a publisher or a newspaper that'll find space for me. Rupert Murdoch can give me a job.

photo  is from 11years ago. Meet my inlaws

Pantomime

Pantomime (c)

By 

Michael Casey

I was at a Panto earlier tonight, I was wondering how you explain a Panto to a foreigner. My wife a Shanghai girl has been to one but in the main it confused her. So me and the kids go to Panto while she stays at home and watches Phoenix the Chinese channel.

To start with a man dresses up as a woman, a badly dressed woman at that. A woman dresses up as a man and slaps her thighs all the time, and her thighs are always strapping, and what does strapping mean? Then there’s a cat who’s really a girl all dressed up.  Then there’s a cow who can dance, just what kind of grass has the cow been eating? Maybe a horse thrown in too, now this horse could never win a race, and no jockey would every ride such a horse. I used to be a trainee betting shop manager so can you imagine the kind of odds I’d give on a Pantomime horse in a race against a cow, perhaps we’d only give 5 beans, and that would turn into a Beanstalk.

On the subject of Fairies just why are they so cheerful? Are they drinking real ale before they appear in a flash of fireworks, and as for the wicked witch why did she have a Russian accent tonight, a kind of deep throaty voice, almost like a man, a kind of Cruela de Ville but with more sequins. And just how do they learn to scream “AHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” and all manner of evil sounds. Is there a kind of evil choirmaster who teaches evil witches how to croak and scream etc. Do they have an evil hymn sheet and they practice. Then and only then can they become evil witches in Pantomime, or perhaps you have to pass a GCSE in all things evil  before you can strut the stage. Oh yes you do, oh no you don’t, oh yes you do, oh no you don’t. Its all so confusing, no wonder my Shanghai wife stays home.

Dancers dance and there is a musician slaving away over 2 keyboards, he is down in the pits, why is it called pits anyway? Did the musician used to be a miner? Its all so confusing, oh yes it it, oh no it isn’t. but I tell you oh yes it is. Now dancers are  good and they throw themselves into it, or if you are a girl then there are boys who throw you around, they dancers twirl how they don’t get dizzy I’ll never know, do they practice in the park on the roundabout, dancers strapped to roundabouts for hours on end, then they get a certificate to prove they can dance and twirl and swing in Pantomime. They get Cadburys as a reward. 

Singing is a big thing in Panto, me I can only sing “I was born under a big brown cow, a big brown cow” because that’s what my siblings used to sing to me when I was a child. Chorus songs are sung and the audience joins in, and as a reward the cast throws things at you, luckily its sweets. So imagine you are from Shanghai and I just explained all this to you, would you want to see a Panto?

Oh yes I would, oh no I wouldn’t, oh yes I would, I’m all confused now, not Confucius.  

I want to be a chat show host

I want to be a chat show host © 

By

Michael Casey

Piers Morgan takes over at CNN, so I thought about the chat show hosts I know, I know 40years of chat show hosts. No I’m not 95 but I started watching our square 2 channel black and white tv when I was maybe 5.

I remember Simon Dee and Dee Time, this was at the end of the Sixties, when Ali was king and we watch the Americans head for the moon. Dee used to give a quick flash of Fairy Liquid to the camera because it was NOT allowed on the BBC then. Advertising on the BBC was strictly forbidden.

Michael Parkison was the best because he was a journalist, and he did not talk over his guests. There is nothing worse than an interviewer talking over a guest,  we the viewers want to hear what the guest has to say. I don’t want to hear the interviewer drone on about himself. Yes he may have been there, yes he too may have had sex while hot air ballooning, he too may have had to canoe to safety from terrorists who wanted to kill him. Yes he too may have broke the bank at Monte Carlo or Vegas. And he too had the final phone call from Monroe. BUT if the interviewer is so interesting he should have made a film about himself and won  The Palme d'Or

At Cannes.

An interview should be like a confession, a one sided event with some gentle encouragement from your confessor. Sadly this is not the case nowadays. Especially on US tv, it really does disservice to the Art of Interviewing. And I do believe it is an art. I’ve also had years of listening to Radio Four in all its incarnations. A good interviewer is a listener, not a talker. I’ve done my fair share of talking and listening, especially in my days as a concierge. You keep folks happy and when their friends approach you disappear like morning mist, your job is over, let people get on with it.

 

If only today’s interviewers knew what their job was, that’s the main problem they are building up their part. Now we have Z list people interviewing other Z list people, and talking over each other, so what does the audience do? They buy 2 million copies of their latest masterpiece, or do the just switch off. Me I switch off. But I will say I am available for interviews…………….

How do you die

How do you die?

By

Michael Casey

I read an article tonight in the DT, it really got me thinking. I was interrrupted by by my 7 year old daughter coming down to say goodnight again and to pull faces in the mirror behind me. So I gave her a drink of milk and she gave me a kiss goodnight and then she went to bed again, happy with her thirst gone. I was happy too, for every goodnight kiss is a priceless thing. I stop to mention this because the article was about Ovarian Cancer and it talked about the lack of tact doctors have when telling somebody they are to die, the doctors cannot do anything for the patient.

Now back in 1996 my mum died peacefully in her sleep, my brother had ran around and climbed into the bed and held her in his arms and  tried the kiss of life. But hertime was up, she had died in the bed he was born in. 8 bare weeks later my brother, the same brother hear a noise, our dad had fallen out of bed, again my brother  tried CPR, this time he laid our dad down on the bedroom floor. He saved our dad.

Now dad was given one week to live and we even picked hymns for his funeral, however I believe Padre Pio saved him. In total our dad lived 5 and half years more. And I met a Shanghai girl  and now have 2 children.

Now there a a couple of things we all need to think about,  does faith change outcome? In America that had teams praying for sick folks and there seemed to be reason to believe that those who were prayed for got better faster. Positive people   seem to get better faster, or live longer if they are living a death sentence. If you are negative and a depressive, say your name is Victor Meldrew then you will take longer to get better and if you are facing a death sentence you will reach your grave sooner.

We all rmember the lady who did all the sports and was determined  to make a difference before she died. Motivation can make all the difference to a situation. If you are scared stiff of dying then you will suffer horrors. My own dad was in hospital at Dudley Rd  for 12 weeks, when he "recovered" he  said he really suffered. When you're on diamorphine and all manner of stuff I imagine you get horror movie level of dreams until the veil is parted and you return to the light. Being trapped in your mind must be like being in Hell itself.

Something in your mind leads you out of your sickness. I believe the prayers of family and priests DO help too. When the final curtain becons attitude does make a difference. I know somebody who says "I hate death, or I'm affraid of death." Me I don't have that fear, when my mother died I did not even cry because my mum always said "Don't cry" so I fgollowed her instructions. I did whelp like a puppy dog 5.5years later when my dad finally died. But to my point, I am lucky I inherited  my mum's Faith when she died, not because I'm in any way pious, rather because it was the thing that I needed most. So don't be affraid of death, just  don't even think about if. Death is not worth listening too, sure we will all die, but a life lived well is what we should be concentrating on. Even if we are racked with pain and on diamorphine, we can all enjoy the flowers. Yes you will all condemn me, but I reply if we can add a little sunshine to our own lives and to those who are on the final stretch then that will be a good thing.

My other daughter just came down for a goodnight kiss and to remind/nag me to tuck her in and give her another goodnight kiss. These simple things are tokens of love and I pray everybody who reads this will agree with me, a family united in love is the best way to live life until this life ends.

My two girls

Reaching Zen

Reaching Zen ©

By 

Michael Casey

How do you get somewhere? You open your door and walk down the street, you may be going shopping for sugar, or you may be popping into church for a chat with God.

You could be feeling lucky and go to Stanley Racing to have a 50p bet, at least smoking is banned now.

To catch the  train to Hogworts in Harry Potter you go to platform 9 ¾ and then away you go on a journey. The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker is set in Old Forge and Singing Anvil which is a magical place somewhere in the Black Country.  So how do you get there? Well its easy, you just go to the pub. The Bear Tavern just 5 mins away from where I’m talking to you. 

Before you go inside the Bear just pop into the pharmacy and buy a big bottle of perfume, as an apology to your girl. Inside The Bear you ask for 17pints and packet of cheese and onion crisps. The crisps will soak up the 17pints. If you don’t like alcohol or 17 pints is too much then  just have 17 pints of cola. There is no time limit. Once the 17pints have been drunk and you’ve finished picking your teeth you are free to leave.

Outside your head will spin at first, but in seconds, you’ll wonder where you are as the familiar Bearwood Rd will have disappeared and  as for the bear’s head and the stone carved bears’ heads on top of the Bear Tavern  all will have vanished. 

Then your head stops spinning and you are on a different street of shops, you are on, well I cannot tell you the name  of the street you have to read the book. You are though standing outside The Trader and now all 17pints and the cheese and onion crisps are forgot so you go inside for a drink, just one. The Trader is a real ale bastion  in fact Camra just put “I cried” in  its listing, it was that good. Wayne the landlord has a secret in the cellar, it’s a stash of 40 or even 60 year old malt whisky. He stumbled over the hidden stash when he was renovating his pub,

Now if you like your cafes  then there is one just down the road from the Trader, Mark and Gillian got fed up of working in 5 stars, they wanted to see their diners, so they came back home to Old Forge and Singing Anvil where they set up shop, or rather opened a café. Yes you can park your wagon and get a great bacon butty, Big Sid provides the meat and Patrick provides the bread. However with all their skill you are eating Michelin standard food in a small back street of Old Forge and Singing Anvil. 

This is just a  peek of Old Forge and Singing Anvil, home to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. All you need is imagination and 17 pints of lager  and one packet

 of cheese and onion crisps.

 

Michael Casey 007

Michael Casey 007

By Michael Casey

I had a security pass with 007 on it, so it got me thinking. What if I was in a Bond film. There will be a new film and Daniel Craig will be the man again.

Could I be a baddie? No I couldn’t possible do that, I mean I don’t look like a baddie do I? My girls wouldn ‘t like it either,  daddy couldn’t possible be a baddie, and as for the wife, I was her Panzi after all. Panzi meaning Fat Fat Boy in Chinese.

So what could I be in a James Bond film? I could carry his bags, I did work in a 4star business hotel for 3 years. So I have the practice. I could carry James Bond’s bags up to his room and knock a few things over, or spill things on James Bond and try to wipe him down with a towel, so James Bond pushes me over the balcony into the pool.

Then the next day Bond lounging by the pool, and me/the porter trips over him so Bond throws me in the pool again. Later in the day I knock his Aston Martin with my trolley, so I get thrown in the pool again.

Finally I/the porter annoys him again, so this time he shoots me. And Bond says “I never believed in tipping.”

Now if Lee Evans is not available for the above then I’d do it. Wouldn’t we all love to be in a Bond film, just think how much they could charge for the privilege.    

As These Tears Fall

As These Tears Fall  ©

 by Michael Casey

As these tears fall, we remember we have been here before.

As these tears fall, the love we feel hurts so much more.

As these tears fall, we are stunned and don't know what to say.

As these tears fall, we must remember them all.

As these tears fall, we think of the smiles.

As these tears fall, we remember the laughter.

As these tears fall, we remember the kisses.

As these tears fall, we touch their things that will never be used again.

As these tears fall, we finish ironing the shirt or the trousers that will never be worn again.

As these tears fall, we feel a hole in our heart that aches so much.

As these tears fall, we remember their touch, comforting and more.

As these tears fall, we are heartbroken for our lost futures.

As these tears fall, we give thanks for what we did have.

As these tears fall, love carries on, we will meet again.

Facebook and Me

Facebook and Me

Well I have to declare an interest, I think Facebook is overrated. I’m on Facebook but I don’t really use it. I’m on Twitter too and I don’t really know how that works  either.

Yes its great to stay in touch but to say somebody thinks Facebook is worth  billions is STUPID. One figure I read in the DT was that it would mean a single ad was worth $100, multiplying up the number of users and how much revenue could be harvested if they all bought in to the advertising. When I watch tv I always put the kettle on during the ads, or switch channels to watch something else even if its the weather for the 20th time in a day, its preferable to adverts.

Talking of adverts www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com is my site where my comic novel  The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker can be read as well as a collection of essays and plays, not to mention a collection of blogs all of which will make you laugh. Now if what I’ve just said was on Facebook would people read my advert and then go to my site, and then find me a publisher and then PAY for my 3 books. NO is the answer so far.

So what of Facebook? Its full of stuff, you can even comment on George Bush’s book. As I and thousands of people have done. In the end Facebook is fun, but will you watch all their ads and buy all the stuff thats there. I know I won’t  its irritating in the extreme all these ads. If you are googling stuff and then the ads show stuff similar then that’s not so bad, BUT if you’re doing social networking then you are social networking, I don’t want a loan or a holiday or any other rubbish, just leave me alone.

Now the investment bankers are investing, but didn’t they invest in C*&^% loans in Deep South Property and  we all know what happened there. Another South Sea Bubble beckons, and when it happens don’t you wish you followed my advice and read a book instead