Personal Image finished version

Personal Image ©
By Michael Casey

Well as promised last night here’s a new piece, Personal Image, I hope you like it. I have tidied up my site to make room for new material if you are wondering where did my stories go, they will form part of my 11th book Still Smiling 2017. Follow link to buy the first ten books.
http://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Now as I sit here naked in front of the computer with the keyboard on my lap to hide my embarrassment I try and think of words to amuse you, or rather I think of this and that, but not the other. Ok I was lying I am wearing my battered old dressing gown, you’ve seen the photos, so you know which one. It’s all part of my Personal Image.

We all have an image or style, this says who we are, and it projects our look, our persona. As you know I have a Shanghai wife, so her look dazzles everybody, people will copy her look hoping to have the same stardust. That’s how marketing and fashion magazines work. And how Trump is winning the Election in USA, just vacuous marketing.

I fell in love with her not because of the model good looks but because she made me laugh. If you spot the old original photo of us in our kitchen you‘ll think that was another person a very scruffy person, and so she was. I’ve just remembered she came and cooked for me and guess what I had to go to the shops 3 times before I had the right ingredients, we ended up laughing, and the rest is History, and Michael Jackson is singing that on Spotify as I talk to you. Really I had the right ingredients already without going to the shops, but don’t tell her that or she’ll steal my wallet.

So we all have an image or look, but we also have our own interior self- image, and there is a difference in that. As I sit here talking to you, I consider myself to be a good writer making you all smile, but if I was an angel standing behind me what would the angel think. Having just said that I look over my right shoulder and guess what there is an angel hovering behind me, though hoovering behind me might be more useful.

You’ve seen the photo of me at the computer keyboard and my big daughter, the Dr or MD wannabe at the piano keyboard, then on the wall is an angel it’s a Burne-Jones painted copy, you can Google him. As well as that angel there is a much smaller one on a shelf, saved from a Xmas card. So I have 2 angels watching over me as I talk to you all.

Do they say he should really shave more often, or he should write less profane and more holy stories, as I talk to you Michael Jackson chips in with Man in the Mirror and make a change. See I get Literary Criticism from the Ether, so no matter what I think about myself I get snipping from angels and from a performer who should have listened to his own lyrics.

On the matter of clothing, we have out slob look which we would never be seen dead in and never open the door in. We are chilled in our bunny slippers and women’s PJs, and I’m talking about myself now. Then when we leave the house, we wear our silk PJs with dressing gown surrounded by bunnies, and now I’m talking about Huge Heffner. So we have our formal and informal wear.

I used to look like a member of Status Quo for years, jeans with a shirt and tie, then I changed to trousers with a shirt and tie, but always with brown shoes as they are cheaper, but they were always Clarks. So that was my own personal image, until I discovered bright, very bright Polos, I could have been on a Trump golf course. By the way Donald my old pharmacist is a good golfer, so why not send him a free weekend at your new place in Scotland.

So our image our look evolves with age and wealth, if we can afford nicer clothes then we’ll wear them, especially if we are a woman. Our wealth is a mirror of our style, with the obvious exception of Bill Gates, does he send his maid with 100 bucks and say get him a full outfit. Has he never had his inside leg measured? No that’s not a metaphor either, you are trying to misread me, don’t be naughty the angels are watching. His trousers are always too long, maybe one day I’ll meet him and then I can encourage him to go to Mountain Warehouse, or just have his inside leg measured, or am I pulling your legs?

Once we have our style we believe we are just so cool, so hip and trendy, we won’t believe what people say behind our backs. Nobody ever told Michael Jackson that silly white socks were just that SILLY. It’s a bit like the Emperor’s New Clothes, the Emperor does not know he is naked, he thinks he’s the bees knees wearing really expensive clothing, it takes a child or simpleton to point out the fact. And then everybody laughs, the dam has been breached, a bit like Politics, the fig leaf gets smaller and smaller until finally people see the Truth, no amount of Image or Clothing can hide that.