Perspective

Perspective ©

By Michael Casey

 

We were walking home after school and we decided to take another road instead of our usual one, it’s a quieter road and it’s a curvy road. What this did was change our perspective when we hit the main road again. In fact my daughter couldn’t recognise our street because of our view, we were higher and looking down at our street, the trees framed it, so it looked prettier than the normal view. I suppose every street has a good end and a bad end, we are at the good end I suppose and the bad end is the route to and from school. You could live your life and never see the other end of your street because you always take one route and never another, the quickest route to the bus stop or the shops.

As a non-driver I take a smaller amount of routes, because I’m on foot or I’m on the bus, so when the wife drives me places it’s a different perspective. Birmingham does have a good bus service so I get where I need to go without discovering too many different roads. Back streets stay off my radar, though I do go walkabout and enjoy our local woods and I dream about being able to live just besides the woods, I even have a name for a dog, Subway the dog will be our dog if ever I sell some books. I will enjoy daily walks in the woods with Subway, though its more likely I’d winn the lottery first, which means it’ll probably never happen, but dreams are dreams.

Perspective is a thing we have in life too, having a Shanghai wife has changed my perspective, a whole new world has opened up, I have an Eastern eye now. Having two daughters does change your perspective too,  Disney Channel and girly tv, not to mention Fashion and girls knickers cluttering up the bathroom. This reminds me when I make some  money I want my own bathroom too, a male only bathroom, with no lotions and potions in my way. The girls are far too young to shave, but I don’t want to share my razor with leg shaving girls in the future.

A tragedy is a very swift changer of Perspective, if only we knew this, if only we knew that, I would never have said this if I knew. Augustinian thinking talks about putting the other person’s shoes on, I didn’t learn this, it was part of a sermon I once heard at Saint Mary’s. Having an awareness for others’ views or feelings before blundering in, this is a mark of sensitive thinking. Lads may laugh and say you are “soft” but girls like the softer side, and the “drippy” one may end up with the Belle. In Tears for A Butcher the drippy lads will get the twin Belles, why will I write it that way, because I want to highlight what is truly best. So a man with a stammer and a man with a limp will get the two Princesses, these two blokes are the real men, not mouthy ignorant types that you see on Reality tv, its all about seeing Perspective after all.

Crockery or Cups and Saucers to You and Me

Crockery or Cups and Saucers to You and Me ©

By Michael Casey

A cup, a glass, a mug. What do you drink from? I have a mug with a cat on the front with a mouse on its head, on the back is a reverse view. Its in a saucer like thing that came from a fancy mug, its either used as a saucer or you put it on top to keep your tea warm, so really it’s a lid that I use as a saucer.

Why do I ask you this? Well what we drink from or how we describe it  denotes our Class or how we see ourselves. Politicians leaving with a mug of tea in their hands is a load of rubbish, its pretentious and I know I just say “I hope he spills it on himself the silly man” We used to have decent cups  for visitors, and mum would say, “don’t give him one with a chip in”, all those years ago. The Royal Wedding, the Charles and Di one, led to mugs plastered with their picture. We had a cousin visit from Cork, he remarked that his kids would love one, so my mum emptied the dresser of the cups, mugs I mean. He had 6 kids so six mugs went back to Cork, you couldn’t miss out any of his children.

A visiting priest would get a cup and saucer, now that is posh, anybody else would get a mug, this was way back in the past. You’d have a sideboard in your  middle room and the best crockery came out on important occasions, such as Christmas. We’d have a sugar bowl too that made an appearance at Christmas as well. Plates with fancy patterns and the plates had a design on the edge, so they weren’t exactly circular, they may have even had gold on them. A bottle or port was also in that cupboard and it came out on special occasions, that one bottle of port may have lasted 7 years.

I was still living at home when I came across a fancy crockery set, the love bird Chinese design on it. I bought it for a fiver of a tenner in West Brom. Six of everthing, cups, saucers, plates, side plates, and bowls. I told my mum the next person to get married in the family could have it. So it gathered dust in the sideboard in our middle room, we never had a lounge or dining room. We had front, middle and living room, no fancy names for us. The years moved on and nobody else got married, we all ended up marrying in our fourties. So I took the fancy crockery to my new home, the Chinese love birds design in blue, years later I married a Shanghai girl….

What you have in the dresser can say a lot about a family, how many in the family for example. I remember 40years ago and more my brother was looking for something, he thought it was on top of the dresser in are old, very small kitchen before the extension. He climbed up and leant on the indoor washing line we had across the kitchen, CRASH. The dresser fell over and everything was smashed, cups and saucers and plates the lot, we could have been a Greek family celebrating by smashing the crockery. Dad came home and he had to go back out again to Malcome’s   on the Dudley Rd to replace everything. Dad returned with thick, really thick plates that might be strong enough to celebrate any Greek like celebrations.

In my kitchen cabinet I still have some of the Chinese love bird crockery, I even have some fancy thin plates with gold pattern on. I have my sister’s left overs, crockery not food that is. Now I have my own family things do wear out, you also get fireworks in your microwave. Gold pattern plates  don’t mix with microwaves, it’s like lightning in the microwave. We have a lot of mugs too, Easter eggs  in mugs means we have a new mug once the chocolate is eaten.

What about fine dining, we see all the cookery shows on tv, and we see fancy people all dressed up with all the knives and forks in front of them. I think you start from the outside and work your way inwards, though if anybody thinks to invite me, they should know this I eat with a fork in my right hand, so the crockery needs to be the other way around.

One Dimensional

One Dimensional ©

 

By Michael Casey

 

One Dimensional, what does that mean to you? To me it’s when you come across somebody or thing that is flat. No personality, no comprehending of anything other than itself. You may meet a maths geek, who can even get a PhD in maths very early in his/her life, but do they know anything else? Do they know about History or Art or Music, or about anybody else's Faith or belief? Do they even care for anything else, are they stuck in a rut.  It really saddens me when you meet such a person, that person is only half a person. Their parents may be proud parents and he is even the joy of the village, but really the "genius" is just 1/2 a person. Think back to Good Will Hunting, the genius in the end throws it all away so her can chase after his girl and find love. I support that view entirely, I've heard of somebody like that who was lost, all alone, a prisoner in his own mind. I remind my girls they should have lots of different things in their lives, be observant, watch and observe life all around them. They may make it as writers where I have not so far. Life is Lego, you mix and match experiences and friends and things to build something new, then you take it apart and make something else. With one friend we are like this, we another we are like that. If we drink we may be more relaxed or we may just be terrible and chase the girls and get our faces slapped or get beaten up by husbands and boyfriends. Life is a mixture  of happy and sad or even tragic events, it shapes us or moulds us. We are not rock, we are like sponges that soak up life's events. I hope I'm never called One Dimensional, with the size of my chest and belly that will never happen. I know a man who travelled all around the world, he came back to our company and he was exactly the same as before he left, dull. I'm not asking people to deny what they are, to abandon their faith or their loves, or what they are good at and enjoy. I just want people to see the world with bigger eyes, to talk to walk, to sing and shout, not just to smirk when they have a PhD in maths at 17 years old.  Go and do something different, experience more of the world, you cannot make love to a calculator. You can travel in your mind and you can be a writer, you can touch people with your words, you  can bring them hope, you can bring solace. Just be more than One Dimension.

Growing Up For Dads

Growing Up For Dads  ©

By Michael Casey

Does anybody remember Algebra? My daughter is doing lots of maths and she asks me to help. Arithmetic I can do and I remember getting 4 of the best on my behind by the teacher with a pump, for not knowing my times tables. Next time he asked I knew them. I was 8 at the time. I did do my Maths exam one year early along with English but that's a long time ago. My wife was a toddler then, I do have a young wife. But its at the edge of my memory when I am  asked questions by my daughter. She moves to 2ndary school in September and having an 11year old in the house is amazing. And it only feels like seconds ago when she was born in the middle of the night.  So time and tide and algebra waits for no man. Arithmetic is spontaneous, I don't even know just how do I know the answers.  I just do, and that's great because I can help my daughter. She looks exactly like me, a I look at her face its like looking into a magical looking glass and I'm seeing myself as a child, though she is a femine version of myself. So I have grown older with silver  hair, a sign of wisdom I hope, but in her face I see the future again. I hope I'll be of use as she progresses through 2ndary school. I had to visit the school today to fill a few forms in, I walked it so I could tell her just how much time she'd need to get there. I ended up walking 5miles or 8 k today, good for my fat belly no doubt. I was able to answer questions on Quakers and The Society Of Friends, I was even able to tell her that Dame Judy Dench, M, James Bond's boss was a Quaker.  So I'm not totally useless after all.

 

Look in the mirror and what do you see?

Look in the mirror and what do you see? ©

By Michael Casey

 

Looking in the mirror what do you see?

Do you see yourself looking back at you?

Do you see grey hairs or are you still black?

Do you see yourself pretty and young?

Are you 20 or 30 or 40 or more?

Does a mirror show your age or just your rage?

Does your bust stand proud, or has it sagged?

Does your stumble look white, are you balding and white?

Is your hair receding to match your pot belly?

Does your corset hold everything in?

Do younger men still look at you, are you still young enough to

blush?

When you look into your eyes are you sad and grey?

Have the lights gone out in your eyes?

Or is there a glint, a bit of mischief too?

Or are your eyes sad and lonely, all hope gone?

When the kids come home do you dispare?

Or is there joy and life in your eyes and heart?

Does a kiss make you want to hold her tight and ask for more?

Is your spirit like a leaf blowing across Autumn skies?

Does your spirit reach for the sky?

When you finish putting on a tie and you look into the mirror to

see if it is straight, do you smile or do you  frown?

The eyes are the mirror of the soul, so be you man or be you

woman let the lights flicker in the mirror of your soul.

From Bedworth to Bookshelf and Beyond

From Bedworth to Bookshelf and Beyond©

By Michael Casey

 

The title sounds like a Buzz Light Year saying in Toy Story but its not. I’m just wondering why when I Google stuff it keeps on popping up and saying I’m in Bedworth when I’m always in Birmingham. Any offers? Am I a botneck or whatever where your computer gets taken over? I don’t think so, and its not all the time, its just irritating. I have antivirus and so forth, so why oh why does Google say I’m in Bedworth.

Perhaps there’s a GCHQ in Bedworth, perhaps they have an interest in my writing. But michaelgcasey.multiply.com has all my stuff on it, and I annoy Daily Telegraph readers by posting there and on Facebook too. So why Bedworth, can’t they wait to read my bi-weekly posts?

I also stumbled on something during my regular random Google searches, don’t do a writing course, just write. A famous SciFi writer is quoted as saying that, I’ve never heard of him myself, but he’s never heard of me. I think if you haven’t got an imagination no amount of courses can give you one. As for style, that just makes me sick, people are all taught to write with the same style, the teacher’s style. Watch some American tv and read a little, and see how the style is all the same, I’m not just talking about writing but about reporters reporting style. They all sound like undertakers with a death wish, “hey man be happy you are still alive” I want to shout at them.

So you write and you put 4 books on Amazon Kindle, you have 300unique blogs on your site, but you don’t make a bean. Why is this? Because the only people who make money are those writers who cannot write and just write writers self help books. Or coffee table books written by Z listers  boasting about their sex lives with Y listers, so of course they sell 2,000,000 copies. Though 1,000,000 copies are remaindered, and you can buy the 20quid opus for a fiver in the Works.

Perhaps I should write a sex on the coffee table book, which would sell 3,000,000 copies, but that would be too boring to write. Perhaps I should go on the after dinner  speaking  circuit, I could warm up the audience for Tony Blair or George Bush, I’d do an hour and get 100quid, they do 30mins and get 20,000. My speech would be funnier but nobody would come for me, I’m just the warm up man, but at least I’d get a great free dinner.

See its nice to dream, I hope it proves I have an imagination, which might mean I should be a writer after all.