But I may paste in something old in a second.
USA harvests my stories every now and then, like 17 in one go. Spike on graph.
So either the Donald is a secret fan after Barron his computer wiz son told him about me.
Or the secret service are all fans.
Or its just key words being checked out by a computer AI program, how boring is that?
I could make up a whole story about who is my reader.
I was listening to Barry White yesterday and a story came to me.
So I may write it down tomorrow when the pain goes away.
If I took the pain killers I need, I'd be a zombie.
So I only take paracetamol and that gives you man boobs.
I take the pain to save my brain, no cheap jokes from the back of the plane please.
The pain clinic did give me super strong stuff, I tried just one.
I was still feeling strange 12 hours later after I'd been to bed.
So I'll stick with just paracetamol to keep my head.
The Barry White story really pleased me,
its like an idea that when you add water expands to fill the page.
Or when you microwave eggs, they expand to make scrambled eggs.
Ok Barry White will be waiting some time tomorrow
So Ladies be ready for Barry, you know he's so good.
Just imagine a 1970's style disco in Air Force One as they fly to Britain and Theresa May, with
Trump as DJ with his Maga Hat turned backwards .....
Stay happy readers I have pasted in something below but there are 1000+ pieces on this site to
browse. And yes I'd rather you bought some books, as I need the money for my Pension.
MichaelCasey’sBlogs2011©
by
Michael Casey
1. Window Shopping © by Michael Casey
Well
the cold has got me so I’m all bunged up and drinking gallons of hot
drinks, the kettle is whistling so wait a sec. Ah that’s better, another
hot coffee, then I’ll switch to hot blackcurrant. Why do colds come at
Xmas? They are as predictable as carol singers. I only ever tried carol
singing once as a child that’s another memory that has rushed back to
me.
Rosie
told me she believed that if you looked at a toy shop window you could
see all the toys but at night when you were not there they all came to
life. She was a child at the time, but I hope she lets that memory come
to life often. My kids still believe in Santa as do I, I go for
the
fittings of his new costume at Slaters every Christmas, and then Santa
comes along for the final fitting, we are about the same size you see.
You could say I am his body double, just like in the films.
But back to Slaters, now they only have a small shop
window then you take the lift upstairs and it’s a bit
like
an Aladdin’s cave. But speaking of shop windows and window shopping
there are many ways to window shop. The real world one can be tiring
trudging around the shops, especially if you have a young and
fashionable wife. So I soon realised the best way was to let her go on
her own while I had peace and quiet, then once we had kids she took the
kids and I had peace and quiet. The perfect solution, especially as I
paid the bill. Young girls
become
very fashion conscience, so they were the perfect mirror, to say mum
this is good or this is bad. I’m sure Shanghai husbands/boyfriends agree
with me, perhaps there should be a club for the Shanghai
husbands/boyfriends
Me
I look in 2 shop windows and know they won’t have my size, and then I
head for Slaters, sometime with the family in toe, then its like
lightning, flash bang
whallop, I’ve got all I need. That’ll do me for a year or two.
I
do like looking in watch shop windows, watches are a weakness of mine,
why are men’s watches so huge nowadays, its like having an alarm clock
strapped to your wrist. I
tend to go for the elegant ones, or the elegant ones in my opinion. The ones with multi dials and buttons to
press
and turn are a turnoff. Oris ones are nice, as are Omega. Yes I do
dream of having one of those when I win the lottery or finally sell some
books. My first watch was for passing the 11plus, its all in The Watch
and Me an essay on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com Now we are in a
technological world, we have windows on the world via our tv and our
computer. I was telling my girls earlier today that we only had 2 or 3
tv channels when I was their age, they could not believe it. So what do
we do with our tv/computer eyes ?We window shop. Obviously I look at
watches and dream of my automatic Oris or Omega, and how nice it would
be. I have had maybe 20years these past 20 years or so. I’m forever
carrying things and banging my watches. One steamed up and the front
fell off so I superglued the glass back on, only I glued the hands
together.
What else do I window shop? Well when I need a new winter coat I look at the web sites and see what I can see in
xxl
or 2xl as it’s called nowadays. Window shopping on the web allows me to
see what’s available, the designs and so forth, all from the comfort of
my own home, as you’ve seen from the photos on my website. The
government encourages all this window shopping because it helps
trade
and that in turn helps their tax take, which in turn should help us. We
do finally leave our homes and visit town and buy stuff and have a beer
and a meal while we are at it.
We
all look online before we book our holidays, some look online for love,
romance, sex. And then they book their holidays. Online is our eyes,
nobody will believe how old fashioned the world used to be, my grandkids
won’t believe the Internet was invented, its as ordinary as trees
growing in a back garden, its always been there. In the future there
will be guided tours explaining about Window Shopping, about holding
hands in the rain, about blokes gathered in the doorway talking about MU
while their wives/girlfriends try on stuff. Window Shopping is part of
world culture, it’s the 3rd oldest occupation in the world after sex and
stories comes Window Shopping.
2. What's on the Internet?
There
was a piece in today's DT about the internet, my post Internet Story
says a lot about the subject so I've brought it back below.
But
I would first say that using the Internet allows you to practice your
skills, it allows you to be a verbal Banksy, to share your "wisdom" with
the world. It allows you to hijack websites for your own devices, its
like shouting at a tv crew or pulling faces at the tv crew while they
interview somebody important or self important, its like mooning while a
politician drones on. Which is more important, a politician trying to
save face or a mooner behind him?
Me I'm trying to get people to read The Butcher The Baker
and The Undertaker my comic novel. If I had a few quid
I'd publish it as an Ebook, at the moment its a free read
on my site. www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I can
empathise with singers who used to tour all the old folk
clubs being allowed to do three songs in the interval.
Finally they are allowed to do a set of six poems. Mad
Dogs and Englishman was a great band from years ago, they
may be dead now, I hope not but alcohol has got a few of
their
kind. Nick Fenwick was another great singer, as was Tommy Dempsy. Back
to the Internet, here everybody has their 15mins of fame or their own
virtual world in which they are a star, its like Xfactor where you are
both the judge and jury and your own publicist. Yes I've broken some of
the "rules" on the internet but thats the joy of
it
you can have your say, the printing press was a great revolution and
brought education to the masses, so now in its way the Internet brings
enlightenment to the masses. Yes its brings lots of rubbish too, perhaps
50% rubbish and 50% interesting stuff, but I do think I'm right in
saying it is as important as the printing press. If we didn't have the
Internet we could still be back in the days of Monks in cells
illuminating pages. Now if I could draw my book would be more sellable, a
few drawings grab people so they turn the pages, cover art is important
too.
So if Banksy reads this how about doing some illustrations for me. As
payment they'll be one blank page in every book so you Banksy can draw
to your hearts content, me I'll just enjoy the royalties.
Now everybody enjoy Internet Story again. Michael in Freezing Birmingham
Michael G Casey Email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com
Internet Story ©
By
Michael Casey
So
all I had to do was send an email , and then I’d be a writer , my book
in every shop , my face smirking from cardboard cut outs of me holding
my book aloft . My book had a great title , so it was bound to sell . A
Nation Of Shopkeepers was a great title , if only people could remember
their History , were people interested in History , and for that matter
my book . It wasn’t a history book , would people think it WAS a history
book , and then not buy it . It was a comedy drama , about a street of
shops , interconnecting short stories , for all the family , but would
people notice the levels , the strands of humour , or would they say
it’s a Ma & Pa book
, and miss the joke , just as one publisher called did ? I decided to keep the title , though I had a reserve
title
, The Butcher , The Baker and The Undertaker . Then I realised the US
market would rename it The Butcher , The Baker And The Funeral Arranger .
You don’t think about such things when you are writing the book ,
you’re just happy , on a roll , in love with your own intellect
, or just surprised you actually DO have any intellect ,
then
you discover that you are dyslexic , you really are dyslexic ,
thankfully not a really bad case , just dyslexic . As you proof read you
see you have put BUT instead PUT , LEAD instead of READ , things like
this and other strange things . Sure there are spellcheckers but or is
it put , you have to check it anyway . As you read you are surprised at
your own ability . You didn’t waste 4years in journalism school , but
your writing is GOOD , Did I write that ? Then your chest filled with
pride you get somebody else to read it , and guess what ? They think its
crap . So now you have to decide , should I give up or should I carry
on ?
I
gave up for as while , while is a unit of years in my case , my life
took another path , so the writing was forgotten , it lay dormant for
years , then like a phoenix it arose , or more truthfully , like a
tortoise awaking from hibernation , sleep still in my eyes I slowly
poked my head out , then back in , went back to sleep again , then
finally with the pangs of hunger in my stomach I just had to do
something . In my case it was eat , as in really eat , then I turned to
my old Atari
and realised it was not PC compatible , so I bought a new , or rather an old new Atari which was PC compatible .
Then
I spent a day copying my files so that I could read them on a PC . Then
I wrote a few more pieces before I realised I’d get nowhere in England .
The chances of being published were 1 in 2000 . So like a bear , I went
back in my cave and slumbered .
Meeting
my wife Jing Jie was a turning point in my life , and not just because
it was like Thunder as Jing Jie calls it , it was a turning point
because I had a professional opinion on my writing , from a journalist
at the very top of the tree . Her uncle is an editor in chief , so his
comments were and are like gold , worth more than my first coffee and
Cadbury’s chocolate , the pleasure rush I treat myself to every day ,
his comments really were that important to me , and I really DO like my
Cadbury’s , so being better than Cadbury’s is the highest praise I can
give . So I knew the quality of my writing , even if others said and say
its crap .
Getting
a modern PC and internet connection was another turning point . Email
in our house is like water and eclectic in any other homes . Jing Jie
can “talk” to her mum in Shanghai every day . To friends all over the
world as well . Birmingham IS the centre of the universe .So with hope
and fear I had to transfer my files from my old
Atari
to the new PC . The floppy discs were old and battered , several were
unreadable , finally my work , my babies were safely on the new PC .
Just to be on the safe side I set up a web site , so now my work was on
somebody’s server in the US , thousands of miles away , safe from fire
or theft . I could also put our new baby’s photos on the web site so
that my Chinese family in Shanghai and Miami and friends all over the
world could see Annie and Jing Jie and me , they could even read my work
too .
So
now all I had to do was market my work in the US , simple really , soon
I’d be doing something useful with my life , making people laugh . I’d
be a writing whore , I’d get paid to make others laugh , the best job in
the world . So how would I set about it ? I got a list of radio
stations from the internet and started sending emails galore . I’m
talking in the hundreds now , to radio stations the length and breath of
the US .They could publicise my site then eventually I’d get published
, or my play would get produced . It was simple wasn’t it
.
So merrily I went about my business , sending emails galore . Years
before I used to send off big heavy envelopes with my work in , with
more persistence than
hope
in my heart .”Thank you for your pieces of paper “was the best put down
. I once even met a writer and he agreed to read my play Shoplife ,
then he wrote back calling me a plagiarist , because it was so good . So
I
used
his note as toilet paper , Shoplife was so good because I had 20years
of experience given to me by my sister , I just improved on it , but yet
I was called a Copyist , so naturally I was angry and used his note to
wipe my bum .
I
wondered why my strike rate was so low with my emails to radio stations
, then somebody casually mentioned , “You do know they will just delete
anything with an attachment” . In these days of viruses or worms which
I’ve discovered is the new trendy word , nobody can risk their PC , so I
merrily send and they merrily delete .
I’d
been wasting my time , but not my money because I’d got a 24/7 package
on my internet from AOL .However one radio station did read Shoplife .
The DJ or is it Host ,
he
called it hilarious and he could not stop reading it . It turned out he
was an actor as well , though isn’t everybody an actor in the US ?So I
thanked him , and quoted him in my future advertising .Humour is a funny
thing . The things that make English people laugh are not
the same as the things that make Americans’ laugh . We
are constantly told by people on tv that English TV is
the best in the world , the US material we see is the top
10% , the rest is rubbish . But I know I’d never get my
foot in the door in England so I had to persist with my
American campaign , so now I pasted in my material , no
attachments . Just get them hooked , then paste in a
sample then direct them to www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
Then
bingo part2 of my life could begin ,I’d be the man that made America
laugh , a naïve sentiment , but it was honest .Only AOL turns things
into zip files and some people can’t unzip your files , it’s like
wanting sex but your zipper is broke and you can’t get your trousers off
. Such a strong urge , but no fulfilment .
I
switched to MSMAIL and pasted in my stuff , things started to happen ,
my files weren’t being deleted or too zipped up to be read . At least I
wasn’t frustrated any more . Now I had an agent interested , and a new
magazine
, even
a theatre replied .All praise to Bill Gates , and to a Christian called
Pat Verato who pointed me in the direction of a few good sites .However
some of the sites that I trawled through were just , so very American .
Hey
, you too can be a writer , just send me 10 dollars and
I’ll
send you my book “How to make 10 dollars” , and he does . Then there’s
magazines you can subscribe to , yes you’ve guessed it , just send
another 10 dollars “Writing for Beginners” . There’s all these agents
too who are so successful , persuading tap dancing bus drivers to write
about Tap Dancing For Bus Drivers , the complete self help book , costs
10 dollars . The agent gets 20percent , and the bus driver pays
5000dollars to print 500 copies , then he can boast he’s a writer , not
just a bus driver , and guess what if you pay 10 dollars you can learn
to tap dance too .
As
for me , what do I think of all this ? I’d say just keep on writing ,
stop your selling , or attempts at selling , just write a bit . Add to
your catalogue of 3 poems and 2 short stories , then search for an agent
. Believe you’ll never be published and then you won’t be disappointed.
There is one final thing you can do though
, just tell everybody to go to my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
And help find a publisher for my book , and then you’ve guessed it , just send me 10 dollars !
End
3. I know your face I know your face © By Michael Casey
Somebody
said he knew my face today, he was looking at a photo of me on my site
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com But 100,000 people know my face, I worked
at a 4star hotel
for
a few years so that many guests must have seen me. I have brothers and
cousins, so I suppose my face could look familiar. My hair is
distinctive, it went white, silver if you’re generous to me, it went
silver 20 years before it should have. I’m “granddad” on the school run.
In songs a face changes things, “when I saw her face” the Monkees sang,
I was small when their show was on tv. “Take that look off your face”
another song sings. For the Chinese its about not losing face, saving
face is important. Putting a face to a name is what we say when we meet
after just phone or email contact. Faces are important, we can see each
other, we can see each other’s reactions, the look of love or the sneer
of contempt.
Fear
written on a face, tired and worn out, sad eyes, pained eyes all of
this is on a face. But what about a mother’s face, love is written all
over it, kindness and compassion and laughter too. My wife took my
mother’s
photo
to Shanghai to introduce her to my Chinese family, my mother had died a
few years previously but the photo showed them the depths of love, the
oceans of love, all of this from the smile on her face. A face is a door
to the soul, a way to the heart, a sign showing just how much spirit of
love is inside a person. A face is a road map for love, so always be
open, a hard uncaring, a hard look is self defeating, I’m strong, leave
the face
pulling
alone, leave it for heavy weight boxers. Me I hope I have a ready
smile, a warm look just as it was given me by my parents and by my
heritage. His face reminds me of Santa, now that is a face worth
keeping. Smile Everybody.
4. Counting Money © By Michael Casey
The King was in his counting house accounting out his money when down came a Blackbird…
We all remember this from school days, days getting further away from us all the time.
We all know how to save the pennies, save the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.
Make ends meet, what does that mean, touching your toes perhaps?
Scrimp and save, things are tight, does that mean you are fat? Or lack of money.
We all learn about money when we are small. We remember the sound of loose change in dad’s pocket.
We were getting a treat because Dad was getting money out, we could hear the sound we were happy.
I’m old enough to remember real money, pounds shillings and pence money.
It was 12 pennies to the shilling and 20 shillings to a pound, and horses were sold in guinnies, if I’ve spelt it right.
Our money confused my American cousins, but it was fun explaining it to them. A halfpenny, a penny, a threepenny
bit, a sixpence, a shilling, a florin, a half a crown,
crowns
I next saw, an orange 10 shillings note and then a pound note, and then
other notes which I never got to see because I was too small.
Explain all that to a foreigner and they were totally lost, going to the moon was easier to understand.
I’m
old enough to remember the joy of the Apollo landing, we were the
world, everything was so exciting, Apollo and Ali not to mention the
Beatles and real money.
A penny was made of copper and so was the half penny, the threepenny bit was six sided with a portcullis design on
it,
it went green with age. The sixpence was very slim slimmer that today’s
5 new pence. The shilling was thicker and perhaps bigger than today’s
10pence. It was real money and the sweets it bought were so much better
than today’s sweets, or so it seems.
We knew about money because we had lodgers and they came to the back door to pay the rent, sometimes barely able
to
stand up, smoke and beer belching over us kids. Are you alright Mrs
Casey? As they leant on the lintel for support, staggering away to the
pub again.
The gas and electric meters had to be emptied and the money counted. We had a copper coloured metal jug which
had
the keys for the locks on the meters inside it, when dad had then we
knew he’d be counting soon. He emptied the money on the kitchen table
and started counting, piles of coins, shillings and florins.
Dad
was like a Casino croupier counting and stacking the coins. Then when
he’d finished he’d put the coins in little plastic bags, and after that
in a small leather black bag. This was his lunch bag for work at the
foundry, but when the gas or electric bill came it was
the bag for the money. I was charged with walking down to
the corner shop, there I’d present the money to Mr Singh
who wouldn’t even weigh it, just throw it in his safe and
peel off the money from his very large wad from his back
pocket. Smiling we’d say our goodbyes both happy with the
exchange. Who needs a bank when you have a corner shop?
There are more stories to tell, but I’ll save those for
another day.
TTFN
Michael
5. We Are Words We Are Words (c) By
Michael Casey
Words have meaning words have power Words are nothing but hot air
Words mean this words mean that Words can set you free
Words can send you to jail
Words
can be sprayed on a wall like cat's pee Words can be printed on a press
and sell millions Words can be illuminated one at a time by Monks Words
are lies words are truth
Words can send you to war Words can bring peace We are Words
In the Beginning was the word But what is the last word
6. If Music Be The Food Of Love © By
Michael Casey
If
Music Be The Food Of Love wrote Shakespeare, he was right, Music Is The
Food Of Love. A boy can get up close and personal if he has the right
mood music. A girl’s heart will melt if he has the right song on his
hifi,
or should I say IPod. Music touches us, it makes our hearts beat
faster, just as a bit of flesh revealed makes our eyes dilate.
In
the interests of balance should I reverse the sentence, a boy’s heart
will melt, or a gay lover’s heart will melt etc. Let’s take that as
read, Love does
Conquer All as my mum once encouraged me, and if you look at my family photo you’ll see IT DID.
Now
Music has been a big thing in my life, since 1974 to be exact. How can I
be so exact? Well my brother went off to be a coal miner then, that was
his gap year before they were even invented. He did go off to a very
good University the year after, the very best to be exact. So while he
was a miner I was all alone in the homework room. To break the silence I
listened to a radio while I did my homework. So love of music while I
struggled with
Latin homework, Latin is a form of torture but it does
focus the mind, I’m pleased to say I got a B. Remember
the Ablative Absolute is like, say, remember the Alamo.
Years later I used to go to a Folk club and see 3 bands
every week. Later still I went to a Jazz club, mainly
Trad Jazz, so I know a good or bad musician when I hear
one, and I know a good voice when I hear one. If ever I
develop cancer it will be because of all the years of
smoke while I listened to music. The idea for the Jazz
band and Jazz funeral in The Butcher The Baker and The
Undertaker came from all those years of music.
I love my radio so much, it was and still is a constant
companion. Though before I got my own house I also
listened to plays on Radio 4, I can spot one from
100yards now, 20years of listening to Radio 4 before I
took up a pen myself. But it’s music I want to tell you
about. Music is a reservoir of emotions, past and
present. Elvis brings back memories, why? My dad
discovered Elvis in his 60s, there was a series of Elvis
films on TV over Christmas so my dad watched them all and
was impressed. If there was a good song on the radio dad
would raise the volume and then lower it again when the
other rubbish returned. Dad would be shaving in the
kitchen because the bathroom was too cold and he’d come in the living room all lathered up and he’d say he/she has a good voice.
Me,
I’m very eclectic in my tastes though Regaee does leave me cold, its
washing machine music the same repeat motion/noise as a washing machine.
Yes I know a whole avalanche of criticism will fall on me, but as
Joanne
used
to say “we are all different” so let’s agree to disagree. What’s
amazing nowadays is that lots of the music I remember is 40years old. I
was young when I heard Eric Clapton for example because of bigger
brothers, so now it makes me realise I’m getting old, being called
“grandpa” by teachers when I do the school run is one example. I tend to
listen to Magic radio on my dab radio, because the music is good and
they don’t prattle over the songs. But I still am amazed at the age of
some of the music, but it’s the music that’s old, NOT ME, I still feel
20 in my head.
Today
Lady Gaga is Queen, she has a great voice and is very pretty, ok very
sexy. Her videos are fun and she seems to know how to stay ahead of the
music and other press. You get so many wanna bes who if you listen to
their voice really are 2nd rate, 1 hit wonders. I
suppose
the test is, if you listen to your dab radio and hear a voice do you
want to open your eyes and poke your head out from under the duvet. If
the voice is good then you will because the dab text will tell you who
is singing. On some of the tv talent shows the voices are terrible, but
when you hear a good voice you can press record on your Sky+ remote. If
my dad was still alive he’d raise the volume on the radio to listen to
Lady Gaga, if he saw her he might think she was a modern Dorethy Lamore
in a Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road Movie. But Gaga is already making her
own Road To movies and they really are a modern form of Art.
7. Bring On The Tears © By
Michael Casey
What
makes you cry? I’ve just wiped a few tears away before I started
talking to you. Today in 11th Nov 2010, which is Remembrance day, it is
also my dad’s Birthday, he would have been 89 today.
My
dad was a man of peace who spent his life in the heat of the
furnace,The District Iron and Steel, Brasshouse Lane was where he worked
for 40 years. He came over to England in 1944, he was a blacksmith. My
father was a gentle man a kind and caring man, hew spoilt me he always
got me an extra ice cream when he was on holiday, my many siblings
called me Pet because of it.
If
there was a film on tv and it was touching, my dad used to clear his
throat and pretend he was getting a cold, he move to the kitchen to dab
away those tears. Or he’d put the kettle on. My dad was very very
strong, after our mum had died he said she was strong, he said mum was
as strong as a horse, the highest compliment a blacksmith can make. My
mother died in her sleep next to her husband of nearly 50year. My
brother climbed into the bed and cradled her in his arms and tried CPR
but she
was
already dead. Eight weeks later, the same brother heard a noise, it was
our dad falling out of bed. My brother laid dad down on the bedroom
floor flat and started CPR, he screamed to another brother, 999.My
brother saved our dad.
I
wrote all of this down in Padre Pio and Me. The bottom line, I have a
Shanghai wife and 2 bilingual daugthers all because of my brother and
Padre Pio too.
When
we look at an object we have an association too, an object is not just
an object its an association too. The electrical socket for my washing
machine is there because my dad put it there, it doesn’t mean I cry
every time I do the laundry, but it does mean I smile. I have an old
barn chair with the back broken off, my mum used to
stand on it when she washed the outdoor windows, its been
in my house nearly a quarter of a century. This reminds
me of my mum. In fact I sat on that chair with the old
typewriter balanced on a red stool when I wrote my comic
novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, I can
even remember when and where we bought that stool, it
was 1973. Simple objects are full of memories and
meaning. In Citizen Kane it was Rosebud the sledge that
meant so much when Kane died.
I had a pair of Rosary beads but I felt they were too
gaudy,
so I gave them to my mum. No doubt she used them well, she really knew
how to pray. That may have been 15 to 20 years ago, now she’s gone, but
my brother said he had a spare set of Rosary bead would I like them. So
he have them to me, he said they belonged to our mum, and yes they were
the very same pair. So love and “objects” had performed a circle. My
sister’s house has white lillies scattered all about her front garden,
they only
appeared after our mum had died. Mum had sneaked up to my sister’s house and planted them with Love. So after she
was
gone there appeared a reminder of her and her Love. I have a speaker in
the corner of my living room, my brother used to play Cream music on it
via a reel to reel tape recorder. So that too has an association. I did
in fact meet Eric Clapton when I was working in a 4star hotel, so that
in a way was a circle.
There
are many things and many lives that touch and connect with one another,
such as the lolly pop lady when you do the school run, or the nice dog
tied up outside a school waiting for the kids to finish school.There are
grand gestures too, such as in My Big Fat Greek Wedding the dad buys
his daughter a house, right next door to his
own.
All this is love in many many forms and I’ve just touched the surface. I
can remember my mum crying her eyes out over a broken wooden coat
hanger, why? Because her mother had given it to her in 1944 when she had
left Kerry for England. Many things Bring On The Tears, but they are
tears of Love.
8. If You Go Down To The Woods Today © By
Michael Casey
Well we all know about Teddy Roosevelt and how he could not bring himself to shoot a bear while out hunting.
Teddy
Bear came into existence. Thousands of bears, millions of bears,
probably more bears than there are people in China have “Lived” thanks
to teddy. I bought my future wife a panda when we first met, the panda
was made in China, just as she was. In fact she used to say
I
was her Panda before she changed her mind and called me Panzi in
Chinese which means FAT FAT BOY. So that panda travelled from China to
England and then back to China, and then she brought it back home to
England when she came back to me, that’s 15,000 miles by my reckoning.
My daughters have been back and forth a few times, when you marry a
Shanghai girl international travel is inevitable.
Girls
just love their teddy bears too, my smallest just adores Winnie the
Pooh, she was saying a few hours ago she wished she could have a Winnie
the pooh bed and carpet and wallpaper, basically everything that could
possibly be Winnie the Pooh. My girls have received lots of cuddly toys,
teddy bears and all things cuddly. I did
a
count a while back and I stopped at 40. These toys live behind the
settee next to the vacuum cleaner and my old collection of CDs. Every
now and then my small daughter drags them out from the 3 Plastic bag
carrier bags and makes them pay attention, she plays teacher and they
are her class. She then takes the register before starting to read to
them. The cuddly toys sit up straight listening eagerly while she reads
to them, she is quite a strict teacher.
Now
a while back while the wife was tidying up the plastic bag with the
cuddly toys broke open scattering teddies everywhere. So we had to have a
cull, you have to feed fizzy pop gently to the toys until they fall
asleep only to awake at the North Pole where Santa welcomes them and
makes them as good as new until they become new toys for new owners. We
had to have another cull today, my small daughter separated the sheep
from the goats so to speak. Then the unwanted toys were placed in an
Plastic bag carrier next to the front door, no
fizzy
pop for them, just a plastic bag, in the morning they will find
themselves in a charity shop soon to have new children to love them.
There was one cuddly toy a hush puppy dog that we had brought back from
Florida
years ago neither of my girls liked it, but I do so I
have
rescued him from the Plastic bag bag, he can live on top of my bedroom
Dab radio. I cannot decide what to call the dog, my new best friend, we
bought it in a shoe shop, HushPuppy maybe, or Subway the dog. We always
said if we have a real dog we’d call him subway.
Christmas
is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have been saved and will decorate
our house once Christmas gets nearer. For now my daughter has arranged
them on top of the piano, looking over my shoulder I can see, Winnie the
Pooh(of course), Tigger and another Winnie the Pooh, a snowman with
bells, a cat from Shanghai who’s chasing Minnie Mouse along the keys, it
sounds like Jazz and finally there is a smiling teddy with Christmas
hat and gloves on. Well I hope the toys find nice new homes via the
Charity shop, as for me I hope HushPuppy/Subway hasn’t left any messages
on my Dab radio.
9. Teddy Bear Cull © By
Michael Casey
Well we all know about Teddy Roosevelt and how he could not bring himself to shoot a bear while out hunting.
Teddy
Bear came into existence. Thousands of bears, millions of bears,
probably more bears than there are people in China have “Lived” thanks
to teddy. I bought my future wife a panda when we first met, the panda
was made in China, just as she was. In fact she used to say
I
was her Panda before she changed her mind and called me Panzi which
means FAT FAT BOY. So that panda travelled from China to England and
then back to China, and then she brought it back home to England when
she came back to me, that’s 15,000 miles by my reckoning. My daughters
have been back and forth a few times, when you marry a Shanghai girl
international travel is inevitable.
Girls
just love their teddy bears too, my smallest just adores Winnie the
Pooh, she was saying a few hours ago she wished she could have a Winnie
the pooh bed and carpet and wallpaper, basically everything that could
possibly be Winnie the Pooh. My girls have received lots of cuddly toys,
teddy bears and all things cuddly. I did
a
count a while back and I stopped at 40. These toys live behind the
settee next to the vacuum cleaner and my old collection of CDs. Every
now and then my small daughter drags them out from the 3 Iceland carrier
bags and makes them pay attention, she plays teacher and they are her
class. She then takes the register before starting to read to them. The
cuddly toys sit up straight listening eagerly while she reads to them,
she is quite a strict teacher.
Now
a while back while the wife was tidying up the plastic bag with the
cuddly toys broke open scattering teddies everywhere. So we had to have a
cull, you have to feed fizzy pop gently to the toys until they fall
asleep only to awake at the North Pole where Santa welcomes them and
makes them as good as new until they become new toys for new owners. We
had to have another cull today, my small daughter separated the sheep
from the goats so to speak. Then the unwanted toys were placed in an
Iceland carrier next to the front door, no fizzy
pop
for them, just a plastic bag, in the morning they will find themselves
in a charity shop soon to have new children to love them. There was one
cuddly toy a hush puppy dog that we had brought back from Florida years
ago
neither of my girls liked it, but I do so I have rescued him from the
Iceland bag, he can live on top of my bedroom Dab radio. I cannot decide
what to call the dog, my new best friend, HushPuppy maybe, or Subway
the dog.
Christmas
is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have been saved and will decorate
our house one Christmas gets nearer. For now my daughter has arranged
them on top of the piano, looking over my shoulder I can see, Winnie the
Pooh(of course), Tigger and another Winnie the Pooh, a snowman with
bells, a cat from Shanghai who’s chasing Minnie Mouse along the keys, it
sounds like Jazz and finally there is a smiling teddy with Christmas
hat and gloves on. Well I hope the toys find nice new homes via the
Charity shop, as for me I hope HushPuppy/Subway hasn’t left any messages
on my Dab radio.
10. From Fireworks to The Grave ©
By
Michael Casey
The
girls were singing at a Wedding Yesterday morning, they came home
telling us about the bride and groom. They also heard that there was a
fireworks display that night. They asked could they go, so I said yes if
they behaved. They behaved all afternoon, so at half past six I nagged
them top put on full winter gear, hat, coat, scarf and gloves. They
wouldn’t believe me that it would be that cold outside but I explained
it would. So reluctantly
they
put all the layers on. The witch as we call my wife drove up to the
firework display. It was behind the church where they had been singing a
few hours earlier. My wife, or the witch said she’d collect us a few
hours later, she said I could ring her. Only I had forgotten to bring
the mobile phone, I have only acquired a mobile phone this year and I
don’t really know how to use it, an I don’t really want it either, its
for emergencies, its
on
the Asda tariff because that’s the cheapest. Its my wife’s 1st phone.
Anyway we said goodbye and we went to watch the firework show.
Only there was a problem, the price to attend was too
much, I have to watch every penny at the moment and I
didn’t think it was worth it anyway. So we stood on the
pavement in front and to one side of the church. From
that vantage point we enjoyed the fireworks display, a
bit like watching tv though your neighbours window. There
were a few other families who did the same. So we
watched the fireworks while my 9 year old filmed it on
our old digital camera, she was very pleased with her
efforts. I promised them we’d buy sweets and pop to make
up
for not seeing the fireworks display officially. My girls understood
and after 20mins of illegal watching of fireworks we started to walk
home. As I had forgotten the phone we’d have to walk and not get a lift
from mum. But I do know how to improvise, it’s a gift I do have.
We
stopped at the 1st sweet shop and they roamed around, but girls being
girls they could not make up their minds, so they left that sweet shop
with nothing. Now from the
church to our house is a good 25min walk and is twisty
and curvy and runs alongside the woods at Warley Woods
and golf course. So as its was the Eve of Halloween I
asked them did they want to walk through the dark woods.
No they both said, but I knew they would like it so we
crossed on the crossings which cross the race track of a
road.
The boldly we went a few yards into the dark dark woods. We were only
there for a minute but it was a good thing to do so close to Halloween.
Then we crossed back to the safer side of the road. My smallest daughter
wanted a rest so we stopped at a bus stop and sat on the plastic seats,
I told them that I had a bus pass, would they like me to leave them
there while I jumped on the bus.
After
a couple of minutes rest we resumed our trek back, were we like the Von
Trapp family, no Swiss mountains for us, only the long and winding
road. The kids could see the retaining wall of their school, from that
point on, even in the dark they knew their way home. Spirits lifted I
had an idea. My big daughter’s friend lived just down the road on a side
road. So when we were outside her friend’s house we did ghostly noises,
just like in Michael Jackson’s Thriller. I thought I made the best
screams. Sadly no lights went on in the house, not unless we had given
her nan a heart attack. Further down the road by the light of a front
room we could see a child in a witches Hat he was pretending to be a
witch. It turned out that he was a friend of my other daughter, this was
too good an opportunity to miss, so again we made ghost and ghoul
noises.
The child inside lifted the curtain to check was the devil outside, no
it was only us. My big daughter laughed and laughed when she say his
face appear, she hid beneath the high retaining front wall and then ran
laughing to use further down the road.
We
went to Thimbermill and got our chocolate and Dr Pepper, we had had
some fun after all. My small daughter had said when we were in the dark
dark park that she had seen a cross, we were in a graveyard. I think it
was the support posts for a sapling, not unless it was….
Finally
home we decided to scare mum, our resident witch, so my big daughter
did her big scream and she managed to scare the neighbours over the
road, but mum had the last laugh, she was sitting in dark watching a
Chinese movie on the internet so when we entered the house she scared
us.
Well
that’s how we enjoyed our Saturday night. Tonight 31st Oct 2010 we had
several trick or treats at the door, so I just screamed back I’m dead,”
followed by my best Vincent Price scream/laugh. But the kids and parents
weren’t impressed. Today does mark an anniversary, its 11years since I
was made redundant from CAN been a few varied years, and best of all I
have two daughters whom I
can stroll in the dark with Don’t tell anybody though,
my witch is more like Bewitched
11. My Arm Chair by Michael Casey
I
did actually bust my armchair the other day. My kids do sit on the arm
rests with me while we watch films, Camp Rock, High School Musical etc
for the zillionth time.
My
wife used to sit on my lap in my rocking chair, the rocking chair
lasted 18 years. So the current armchair may be 6 years old. I was lucky
with the rocking chair because it was part of a suite, in fact it was
the only reason I bought the suite. As for the current armchair it was
part of a suite too but the customer did not want it so I picked it up
cheap for £45, yes only £45. All my girls do squeeze onto it while they
watch Phoenix TV, now the bottom has fallen out of the chair, we've had
to put a big cushion under the seat of the chair. So that'll do until we
can save up for a new armchair. I had a quick look in two furniture
shops and its £200 plus just for a single armchair. I will go back to
the same furniture shop where I picked up my bargain 6 years ago, but
I'm not holding my breath.
Rocking
chairs are great and I'd love to have another furnished rocking chair,
perhaps I could be a rocking chair tester, or the NHS could send me one
of their new
vibrating
chairs. A good chair is a thing of beauty in itself, and the rocking is
very soothing too, and with a nice drink in your hand then that is
poetry in itself. Cue Queen's Song We Will Rock You.
When
our dog long ago broke its pelvis he was saved by the vet, and we
placed him in our dad's old armchair when the dog came home. When our
dad came home from the steelworks the poor dog got out of the armchair
because he knew it was dad's chair, I remember it so well. Our cat used
to enjoy an armchair too, soft and cosy, she'd fall asleep purring like a
Jaguar car.
So
the point of all this musing? Enjoy your armchair, because your kids
and wife and finally grandkids love that chair too, in one object you
capture the word family.
p.s. cross your fingers so I find a cheap replacement
Michael
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
12. The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare © By Michael Casey
I just read a piece in this morning’s DT it was about the Vatican’s newspaper and the Simpsons.
The DT comment button did not work so I’ve written this piece instead.
Shakespeare
touches all of us, once we learn or are taught how to understand it. It
may mean a West Side story experience. It may mean Shakespeare in Love
or a modern version with Leonardo di Caprio.
But it is all Shakespeare, yes I know the literati will
moan as the always do, but underneath it is Shakespeare. It’s the universality of it, www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com for my stuff, more like an Ealing Comedy. But back to today the Vatican/Jesuit take
on
the Simpsons. My girls tease and say I’m like the dad in the Simpsons, I
tell them I’m much much slimmer. Comedy pokes fun and draws us closer
together as we laugh at what’s happening, and a big part is laughing at
others’ suffering, PC people will spin in their graves, and the soon the better.
There was a really good series on tv about Shakespeare
and
how he could have been a secret Catholic amongst other things, not to
mention his eclectic background, he could touch bases with so many
things because of his life experience. So the Simpsons touch bases with
us because it highlights the worst in us all, and then we laugh at
ourselves, there is no “I couldn’t possibly be like
that”
because we ARE like that. I suppose in the New Testament the common
touch in the language/life draws us towards the Divine, The Simpsons
could it be called the common man’s Bible? I don’t know, you’ll have to
read more of the Bible and watch more of the Simpsons. And ask the
Jesuits who write the Vatican newspaper, me I’m going to find my deck of
cards you may remember the song.
13. Which Way Do You Look?
By
Michael Casey
Which
way do you look? I’m thinking of this because it’s an anniversary
today, so it got me thinking. I also heard today about the funeral
arrangements for our old priest, he was the priest who came to the house
to
confirm that our mum was indeed dead, when my dad saw him enter the house with my brother and sister my dad started
to cry. So now we cry for that priest.
Events
make you look this way and make you look that way. Events touch us and
pain us, events make us laugh and make us sigh. Today in Chile the whole
nation screams in celebration, to be honest the whole world smiles too,
we are the world.
When
you look in a mirror which way do you look? If you are a girl or a lady
you look at your body and wonder is it as you want it to be. Is your
hair good this way or that way, do those clothes really suit you or
should you take them back to the shop to exchange them, you’ve tried
20 things
to match them but they just don’t work with your wardrobe. Yes you’ll
take them back, I mean your mirror is so much better than the one in the
shop, and
why don’t husbands understand about clothes.
Men
look in mirrors for 2 seconds as they drag the comb through their hair,
they never seem to notice the stubble on their chins, or the paint on
their jumpers, they shame their wives.
Do
you look forward or do you look backward? It depends on how your life
is doing. If you’re on the dole with no hope you may look backward to
when you had a job and the money that went with it. You’re afraid to
look ahead it’s looking into the gloom, it’s like the Titanic, all fog
and
mist. Some take refuge in drink or worse, glass ½ full or glass ½
empty, or maybe the glass is just not big enough. Your prospective
influences how you cope with things.
You
can look forward by looking at the property pages on
www.rightmove.co.uk if only you get more money then you’ll move house,
even if it would really be a lottery win amount of money. You can look
forward more realistically by looking at Argos and Currys and comet and
do some window shopping for the things you really need to replace once
the money comes in again. A new cooker perhaps, a new living room
carpet, perhaps a fridge, or just upgrade the central heating boiler.
All
these are looking forward.
I
look back a fair bit, because I have lots of memories and spent a lot
of time with my dad in his good years and his fading years in the old
people’s home, you can find out more by reading Padre Pio and Me on
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I have almost total recall for my family
events. I’m the one who remembers all the family growing up things. When
my brother went to University he bought our little sister a tricycle,
it was
£5,
that was good use of student grant, over 40 years ago. Now my own
daughter has ambitions to go to that University. My younger daughter had
a tricycle too, I got it as a gift from a toy show that passed through a
hotel where I was working a few years ago.
I
think having memories is good, it certainly means I have material to
write about, growing up with lodgers for example. I look back with love
and think just much love we got from our parents. “You are as good as
anybody” is what I can remember my mum saying, proud and defiant she
was, for her love was a nuclear weapon. Mothers know how to use nuclear
weapons, their love really is that
powerful. I have an idea for Tears For A Butcher my 3rd book, if ever I get to write it.
14. A Winter's Day
As
I look from my window I see the blue blue sky. Birds dive and soar
better than any circus acrobat, they are painting a picture with their
wings. Tiny tiny whisps of white cloud remain, like left over candy
floss on a childs face, like white whiskers on a very old woman’s face.
Curtains
are pulled open and windows are inched open too, daylight and fresh air
to bedrooms shuttered down against a cold winters night. People stand
and yarn and scratch too as they struggle to wake up fully. Then one or
two realise they don’t wear any pyjamas so they hurry away from their
windows, their wives, their husbands, their lovers laughing at their
stupidity. At least old Mrs Jones may have had a thrill.
The
sounds of morning, of daylight rise. Slowly the sound of the milk
float, the sounds of milk bottles clinking together as the milkman does
his rounds, this way and that. The sound of of Mrs Murphy walking her
dog, the dog panting in the cold winters air. He doesn’t have a
sheepskin coat to keep him warm. He has his own fur coat but this winter
is a cold one, so Goldie the dog could do with an extra coat too.
People
dance down their door steps to their car, nagging children to hurry up
as its cold. Children write their name in the frost on their neighbours’
cars before being told off. John the neighbourhood jogger rushes past,
the kids stick their tongue out at him, he does the same, they all
laugh, only for John to miss his stride slip on
an
icy patch and fall to the ground hurting his elbow as he does so. Still
laughing the kids get in the car and are taken off to see grandpa, John
is rubbing his elbow and his bum as he gets ups gingerly.
The lads, we are so hard, appear from their homes to
noisily attack the day, Sunday is for shouting, but not
too loud, as they have headaches and hangovers, did they
really chat up that ugly fat girl, but they gave her his
brother’s mobile number and not his own. They stride off
to the news agent for The News Of The World, just for the
sports pages, their mums can read the scandal section and
the horoscopes.
One
or two black people wearing their Sunday best pass by on their way to
church, a throwback to decades before when people still went to church
and when people still wore their Sunday best. People used to dress up to
go to the theatre too, but now, but now.
I reach for the kettle and have my first coffee of the
day, coffee with milk and no sugar, the way English
people have coffee, not the American way, just the soft
English way. My kids want toast and peanut butter, or
cheese on toast, so my 3 slices of toast become one slice
of toast as I feed my girls. I nag them to put slippers
and socks on, yes we have nice carpet but in the winter’s
weather they are always getting colds, so I nag them, I
nag them. My wife nags them in Chinese too, or Shanghai
dialect. The phone rings, its Germany calling, or rather
my wife’s best friend who’s calling from Germany, the
cackle or hens, of chickens clucking is the noise these 2
Shanghai girls make, as they talk in Shanghai, when are
we coming back to Germany is the message. Cluck cluck
cluck.
The
sky has changed the blue has changed to grey, will the snow return,
it’s been a snowy winter over here in Birmingham, some parts of the
country have had the worse weather in 20years. The children have
quietened down, my wife has relented and put a nature program on the tv
for them. As for me I was going to try and write a poem but instead you
see what’s before you. I’m half listening to Mike and The Mechanics a cd
I’ve loaded to the computer,
“give
me the simple life” he sings, I suppose my life is a simple life too.
But if we can see the poetry in life then we enjoy the simple things
which make up all are lives. All our lives are poetry if only we take
the time to watch and listen, while we’re making toast for the kids.
15. My Atheist Friend
I
spent the afternoon with my friendly atheist he was condemning God, he
thought God existed but only as a bad and evil thing. He assumed a lot
about my faith, and was wrong about it and me. Now should I bother to
try and convert him? Should I point him in the direction of his local
church where he could find himself a nice wife. Do people go to church
to finds wives, now that's another question. Or should I let him carry
on until he stumbled over his own direction. I did explain how I stood
by my fridge and asked God to intervene in my life, my 3 wishes so to
speak, its in my essay Padre Pio and Me on my
site.
And then as if by magic I met my Shanghai wife. However atheists put
themselves in a box, a cold steel box and throw away the key, and they
are not Houdini's who can escape, they are like collapsed dead stars
deep in the cold of space.
Does
family make us believe in God? Wishing for a family was one of my 3
wishes. I got all my luck in one go is what my Kerry cousins say. You
ask for anything will do and you get the best, better than all the rest
as the song goes.
THe autumn leaves fall and Life will soon die, winter
will
come and cold will desend, but in the spring there will be growth as
Chance the gardener. How to plant a seed where there is forever autumn
as another song goes. How do you plant a seed in an atheist's heart does
he have to suffer a dark night of the soul before like a caterpillar he
emerges as a beautiful butterfly? Its a difficult question especially
when I got my faith at the nipple. Others of many faiths learnt their
faith when they were toddlers, the trendy I'll wait till they grow
up so they can decide for themselves always strikes me as child neglect of the worst sort.
Christmas is a happy time full of innocence and hope,
perhaps I should drag my friend to Midnight Mass and let
him hear carols, silent night holy night. When we sing
and remember our family members who have gone ahead.
Should I make him look up at the stars overhead twinkling
to eternity, for there is always hope. Hope springs
Eternal.
16. Words are for what? © By Michael Casey
Words
are for what? Conversation, a chat, gossip, juicy gossip, a quiet word,
a stern word, a protest, a scream, a shout, a murmur, whispers, a buzz
or just plain old prattle.
Today
the news is full of the Labour Party, much is being said and not said,
how will the future be, will they the brothers bury the hatchet, do they
wish to bury the hatchet in one another’s head. Are they both lying
about everything? Or are they both champions of truth. One thing is
certain the Tories just love this result.
Political
reporters just love it too, those politic al reporters are prettier
nowadays too, I remember when I was a child it was just Robin Day in his
dickybow talking to other men about politics. I once saw Robin Day in
the street, he was a really fast walker. Now Robin Day was great with
words, he could and would call somebody a
%%%$$%^&&
to their face but he used such elegant words, it would be an honour to
be dumped on by him. Robin Day’s most famous quote was “Some here today
gone tomorrow politician.” He said that to Sir John Knott when the
Falklands War kicked off, John Knott walked off set. At
the time nobody knew where the Falklands were, were they in extreme northern Scotland?
Words
though do have so much strength. Hitler knew this, and look what
happened. Other evil leaders did the same thing, pick your own despot.
Sometimes
all it takes is a word and things can be healed. Sorry is the hardest
word to say as the song goes. Kids play in the playground and harsh
words are said, kids are cruel is what any teacher will tell you. “Take
it back” is another catchphrase, then you have to say the magic formula
of words and all is healed. Or is it? With kids in the playground, or
between brother and sister yes, hopefully. But with international
relations? Pick your own dispute.
Love
songs have so much power, or certain words can tickle us and make us
smile, or make us angry. When I was in Shanghai in 2000 meeting the
family at one dinner a 13year old boy was proud to sing a song he knew
in English, Michael Row the boat ashore. He grew whiskers on his
chinagin the wind came out and blew them in again. The Chinese boy was
so proud. It was the same song that my brothers and sisters used to sing
to me to make me cry. I think I laughed in 2000. In 2007 at another
dinner
I met him again, he asked did I remember him, he was now as big as
myself. Of course I remembered him, how could I forget that song and the
association. I told the Chinese lad to keep up with the English and do
Law at Uni. I was working at a law firm at the time.
A
way a woman dresses has a lot of power over a man, it leads to the
power of love. The way a man dresses has power over a woman, a fireman
for example. The way a man undresses has power over a woman too, the
Chippendales or The Full Monty…..
But back to words, if they are not matched by action then
they are like steam coming off a coffee on a train, just
evaporating into nothingness. A few simple words with
action attached is better than a hurricane for blowing
inaction away. My last uncle died recently and after the
funeral his son in law said “He didn’t say much but when
he did it was worth listening to.” He was a quiet man,
but he was loved so much, and his words were worth their
weight in gold.
17. Cobwebs of Love
Kids
need good parents, friends we choose for ourselves, your families you
get anyway. I'm lucky I had great parents. Faith does help, but kids get
bigger and decide for themselves if their parents were talking rubbish
or were worth listening too. Kids travel and find their own way home to
their faith and their families. Elastic is very important in
relationships and faith. If you try to keep things set in stone then you
will be in for a fall. Nothing is set in stone, friendships change and
alter and our own understandings change and alter. Have a bit of elastic
in your life is my best advice. You are not in an army and getting up
at 5am and doing all the marching and so forth. Yes have discipline and
rules, but be aware IF you force somebody to do something when they have
the chance to rebel then they will. You cannot chain anybody to you or
your faith, brainwashing is a bad idea, listen
to the Genesis song Jesus we know him.......So you bind
your
family and friends and faith to you by cobwebs of love and nothing
stronger than cobwebs of love. Love should be like that its a cobweb of
love, also be happy to have a Prodigal Son in your life, happy because
you will always welcome them back. If you're lucky you'll
never
have any Prodigal sons in your life but I already tell my kids I'll
always love them and they can always come home, leave your doors open
with cobwebs of love waiting there
18.The Bicycle Removal Firm ©
By
Michael Casey
Today's blog is
inspired
by what I saw through the window. And what did I see? Well you may have
all seen The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. In it a
spare bike is “carried” by somebody already riding one. It no doubt
takes great skill.
It
wasn't that I saw but something much more intriguing, I say a man on a
bike carrying a mirror under his arm. Not the newspaper, but a real
mirror, a 3.5foot one under his right arm. He also had it mirror side
out, so no doubt several car drivers would have been dazzled. Later on
as I sat here at the computer I saw him again, this time he had an
ironing board under his arm, at least the legs weren't sticking out. He
just pedalled past. I
was
wondering what would happened next. I was thinking it was nearly time
to collect the girls from school when he came walking past carrying a
heavy bundle on his shoulder.
As we walked home I told my girls what I'd noticed, I always try and teach them to be observant, such as seeing
the
new trendy sign over the help the aged charity shop today. And as we
walked home why the policeman had got out of the panda car near the
bank, to go to the cash point and then go to Subway for his sandwich.
I
explained to my girls that the man on the bike must be moving house,
but he didn't have a car so he was DIY moving with the aid of a bike. My
mother once put on all
her
clothes and then walked home to Cromane Kerry because she had no
suitcase so she wore everything. Her mum had belted her for her
stupidity, this would be in the 1930s. I encouraged my daughter to use
the bike man as a story
for her next English lesson, she said it was not her
style. Then as we closed the front door, who did we see?
The man on his bike with a mixing desk under his arm, my
daughter laughed, but her little sister had the last
laugh, she'd found the chocolate biscuits.
So
what can I say, I hope that if ever we move house, if ever I sell my 3
books then I hope we can at least have a van to transport our things. Or
perhaps I could self upgrade from a bicycle removal service to a bus
removal service, I do have a bus pass after all.
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
19. What is Prayer ? What is Love? ©
By
Michael Casey
What
is Faith? We are told in one Bible passage that if a man can do many
things yet there is no Love then man has achieved nothing. I remember
this being read at grammar school at the morning assembly. . Sorry if I
cannot quote
it verbatim. I'd come home from work and my dad would be sitting down in the living room his dinner on a chair so
he
could watch the news, he'd have the first bite raised to his mouth. I'm
not hungry he'd say and offer me his dinner. This is love. Another
time, another shift pattern. I'd come home at 11p. Dad would wait up to
see me before he'd go to bed, he'd be up at 5am for his work the next
morning. This is the standard I'm used to, I'll do the same for my own
children. Its normal, it’s obvious. To me anyway. My mother used to
watch Dallas on tv after she'd fed all her children, one hand in her
apron
as she watched tv. Only the hand always jumped in her pocket, she was
saying the rosary while she watched tv. Very Irish, very motherly. Very
normal, the standard I got used to. Countless mothers the world over do
the same. They may be Christians, they may be of a multitude
of
different Faiths, yet one thing in common. Love, love of God, love of
family, love of children . And do we thank our parents for this love? If
we didn't and now our parents our gone, then do we live with regret all
our lives . No, this would be folly. We can thank our parents and our
God by being good parents, by trying to copy the good example shown to
us . I met my wife in the retirement home where my dad lived after his
near fatal heart attack, which happened 8 bare weeks after my mother
died in her sleep. My dad lived long enough for me to meet/marry and
have a granddaughter. As I gaze on my daughter's face I often say "thank
you". Thank You to God for allowing me a wife and for having a
daughter. An extremely beautiful daughter, healthy and funny. I have to
show the moon to my daughter because she thinks it’s so pretty, she
loves stars too , not yet 22months old and
she
knows the wonder of creation . As I look upwards and see the cold
beauty of space I know how lucky I am. I know how lucky I am. Lucky
enough to cry, which I do on occasions. My tears are my humble thanks
and praise of God. I have a family. July 96, mom was gone 2 months, and
dad was now given 1 week to live. So after 3years of constant visits to
the seniors home I met my wife, my
Shanghai
China. So yes I cry in the dark of the night as I look up at the stars .
I am a lucky man, because I had good parents, I know I did . I hope
everybody could be as lucky as me .....
well I hope this reads ok , I couldn't think of any poetry , I just hope telling it plain catches the spirit
, the
spirit of love . One word, one look, one sigh, one flicker of the eyes,
each of these is a prayer, a deep prayer . A prayer of hope, pray, hope
and don't worry is a motto I try to live by that’s all the advice I can
give
20. My New Computer Part 2
A
new home computer is an event. You think how quick it will be. You
prepare by backing up your files, but you have so many of them. Then you
have email accounts and favourite sites and so forth. You think you've
thought of everything but you haven't. BUT you do have a safety net,
you've emailed your important files to yourself, in fact you have a
couple of email accounts so your stuff can be safe. Only you forget the
passwords.
I'm sure we've all done it. Luckily the nice folks at Google can help. But then there is GMX can they fix it too?
Then
you get 60 day trial of software from Norton which features an online
backup, so your files are safe on a server in the USA.
So I had loaded our family photos to the new PC and then deleted them from the memory stick thing.
So that was ok, only I then lost them from the new PC. So I have to rely on Norton, only there's a glitch, I can
see
my files on their Server but I cannot restore them to my PC. It may
just be I need to click somewhere I cannot see. So I send an email to
Norton, that’s a couple of hours ago, but I'm sure those guys are just
as nice
as Google.
Have I learnt my lesson. Yes, buy 2 memory sticks and don't delete anything.
Footnote
I first used a computer back in 1978, DEC PDP 1170s but then computers
were as big as washing machines and dealt in megabites and tape decks
were as big as wardrobes.
p.s. Windows7 is fab and the lads at Comet are very very professional
21. How to Teach a Nine Year Old Long Division ©
By
Michael Casey
Well
my daughter only has 2 more years in primary school, year 5 is what
they call it. So my Shanghai wife is pushing her to learn maths, 11plus
beckons next year.
I
remember I was called the "Ready Reckoner" by the lady in the butcher’s
shop, Marsh and Baxters. The shop had a variety of changes over the
past 45 years but now it is once more a butchers, a halal one. I was 8
or younger at the time me and my mum would go to the butchers and buy
the meat for the 8 of us, sawdust was on the floor in those days. The
lady in the shop would write down all the separate items on a piece of
paper using her pencil. Then she’d try to add them up, remember it was
pounds shillings and pence in those days. 12 pence to a
shilling,
and 20 shilling to the pound, 240 pence in one pound. If you did not
know your 12 times tables then you’d be lost. Mr Gallagher my old school
teacher threatened us for months with a times table test. He sprung it
on us and the result was 4 of the best, a pump on my bum. The next time
he tested us I was perfect. So with a stinging bum as a reminder I was
red hot as far at
times tables and sums were concerned. Hence I was the ready reckoner
We
always paid the right price for our meat, the tills were huge monsters
in those days with big symbols appearing in a glass window, watch Ronnie
Barker in Open All Hours and you’ll see one.
Now
how do you teach division to a 9 year old. Well my wife starts in
Shanghai dialect, then I interrupt in English giving a metaphor or two,
upside down stair is how I explain. Then we jump on Utube and you get
lessons galore, 360 maths lessons is what I hear. Though its American so
is Math lessons, I was boasting as they explained long division that I
had shown our daughter the correct way, but Utube had another set in the
upside down steps, by basically I was right. I then reassured our
daughter if she did 100 examples then she’d get it. If
you
know how to multiply then you know how to divide. More encouragement is
given in Shanghai dialect. As for our daughter she heads for her room
and Galaxy on her DAB radio, perhaps if she counts the stars in the
Galaxy then she’ll have her head for maths.
22. Mickey Mouse Degrees
Three
of my family went to University, and it was called University then not
Uni. They worked very hard to get there. Me I went to work and later
discovered the OU, after I discovered I could write. I also spent 3years
at
a 4star deluxe business hotel. So I’m thinking should I set myself up
as a tutor and teach “Car park cleaning and security patrolling a
combined course” or “Concierge skills with smile techniques” or
“Housekeeping with combined Laundry services” “Reception skills with
added Switchboard techniques”. I was a close runner up as Employee Of
The Year so I could charge more. Perhaps I could teach “Acceptance of
Rejection, a multi discipline course for Writers and Playwright and
Poets”
I’d
just love for somebody to take me under their wing and give me a grant,
I’ve written a comic novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker,
I’ve written a play that will be a hit, Shoplife is its name and its
very topical, its about a store about to close. I’ve got another book
called Essays and Plays which is just that. Finally Tears For A Butcher
is my 3rd book which I'm still writing. I did try and get a grant from
the
Rockefeller
Foundation but no joy, perhaps I’m too old or too working class.
Perhaps I should try Getty Foundation, who knows, I do know my play
Shoplife could be turned on its head to teach Customer Service, all I
need is a Dragon, I did try that too but no luck.
Perhaps I should go on the X files and read a few poems
or
speed read from my book, like the Reduced Shakespeare Company. I did
meet thousands of people while I worked at a hotel and many were amused
by my Tales. Tales from Old Forge and Singing Anvil
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com is where my stuff lives in cyber space. I
am no Blacksmith like my father but I always followed his maxim “Do
what you like, BUT do your best.”
23. My Mouse is drunk ©
By
Michael Casey
Well
my mouse is drunk, I did see the warning signs and I hoped and prayed
that it would get back to the straight and narrow, but it did not. The
mouse is a drunkard and that’s all there is to it, its not that I live
in a
windmill
with the sails producing electricity for our home our windmill home. It
would have been just fine if the mouse wore clogs and did a bit of
break dancing. Living in a windmill would be fun too.
I
am of course talking about a computer mouse, not any Nick Park
creation. Our computer was waving goodbye as you can see by my previous
post, but now the mouse was joining the strike in sympathy, all for one
and one for all.
Can
you remember the last time you were on a double decker bus up stairs
and drunk?I can remember being on the Metro in Paris Feb 1998 drunk and
very happy, but that’s another story. So picture that in your mind and
that’s just how my mouse is behaving. Scrolling and jumping and
highlighting galore, could be like a scene from an old film, Easy Rider
perhaps, and yes I remember
seeing
that at the cinema, 2pound a week pocket money so I could go to the
cinema at the Grove. You think you can master a silly little mouse but
you cannot, it’s like a jockey verses a giant, the jockey is wiry and
nimble so
its
very hard to catch him and lay a punch on him. Exactly how it is
between me and my mouse. I was trying to do a few things before the new
needed replacement computer arrived, but it was a battle of wills and
the mouse, the computer mouse was winning. I need to renew my house
insurance so I thought I could do this online. I had rung up my existing
insurance company and they immediately offered a 40% discount! But it
was still cheaper to change so I had been looking online, but with the
mouse playing up it was like being in an Irish Pub on Saint Patrick’s
day, one giant jelly mass of people, me and the mouse were just like
that. Finally I had to give up I was getting seasick. 4 of us use this
computer and
the
mouse has been battered for years, so now it was time to put it out of
its misery, the only decision was whether to bury the mouse in an old
shoe box or just cut off its tale and give it to the with. kids to play
24. We are having a baby ©
By
Michael Casey
We
are having a baby, after much though and heartache we have decided to
have a baby, it will be our 3rd. Now in Google search that’ll be
condensed so everybody will be mislead until they click and read the
full version. Yes
we are having a baby, and yes it will be our 3rd, but not
a baby baby, which would indeed be our 3rd. No we are not trying for a boy after having two girls, we are just
having
a 3rd baby, I mentioned it to my eldest daughter on my way back with a
coffee in my hand, she said it wouldn’t be a 3rd baby, it would be a 4th
baby, or even a 5th baby. You see we had a new Tv after ours gave up
the ghost after 16 years, so the new Toshiba was a baby, and our new
noisy whistling kettle was a baby too. What I’m really saying is that
our computer has reached the age when it should be replaced. The baby
I’m on about is a new Emachine computer, a baby computer because it
should be so much smaller than the original one from over 7 years ago.
Best of all it was on offer, 200 off. If it
wasn’t on offer it would have stayed in the shop, but we really need our computer so thankfully a cheap one has
popped up to save the day.
As
for our current Emachine that’ll find a new home with somebody who had
our last old baby, a tradition is forming, he has our old cache which
saves him cash. Its nice if you can recycle things, and I’m sure our
friend will spruce it up to make it better than we had it. I
know
somebody who has a computer who has never done a disc cleanup, but
that’s another story. As for us I now have to backup our old files, can
you imagine how many 1000 photos you take when you have a young
children; you have to send them to grandma in Shanghai and friends in
Toyko and Taiwan and Singapore, and the most exotic Stourbridge and
Reading and Frankfurt. You do have some on the family website but now as
change is in the air you must backup everything, you cannot lose your
children’s childhood snaps.
Yesterday
I looked at USB sticks they can be pretty expensive, finally I worked
out how much stuff we just had to backup and move. Play.com turned out
to have the best offer for 16gig flash security. Lets hope it’s a simple
as I think it is to back things up, I have 14gig
of stuff to backup. As you can imagine I have to keep my other babies safe, my stories my writing, which are
dreams
in themselves. I had them on floppy discs scattered all around my
house. I do have my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com so my
“masterpieces” will survive fire and floor and even nuclear war as the
are on a server on a different continent. However I still need
them
on my new baby computer my new Emachine, so my 16gig flash storage will
have a mission. There is one thing to remember though I remember
somebody saying if you don’t dismount/unload you media properly then you
lose what’s
on the flash media. Well I’ll find out about that soon enough, Wednesday will be my security day.
Then once everything is safely loaded I can breath a sigh
of relief. But what else do you have to do once you have
your new baby, your new computer. Get connected to the
Internet, without being swamped by viruses because you
forgot to get an anti virus program. Set up accounts on
the computer, I have my side and my wife has her side.
With a Shanghai wife though I get stray Chinese
characters appearing on our current computer, and strange
things have happened. So I need to keep a clear head
while
I get things as I want them to be, however give it a fortnight and
China will have invaded my side of the computer and stolen all the
duvet. I still dream of
having my books in Waterstones and sold as Ebooks for all these new devices, but most of all I want a computer just for me!
25.Where do the tears go when they are shed© By
Michael Casey
Where
do the tears go when they are shed While I lie here crying on my bed Do
the tears drip drip away and seep thoughThe floorboards and head for
the sea. Do my tears join an ocean that rises and falls Do the tears
yell and scream but only sea farers Hear them, do whales moan as they
crash through them Only whales know of my distress as my tears groan In
deep deep oceans in the unknown dark deep seas.
Do my tears head north to the North Pole and Santa Does
Santa Ho Ho Ho so much because he is trying to drown
Out The cries and sobs and tears held back for so many
years. Do tears form ice shelves and become icebergs,
silent and majestic Like giant cathedrals of ice. Is this
the way to silent the voice of tears. Frozen in Time for
100s of years, the fears of today and yesterday are
Merged As one, gagged for eternity in an ice
cathedral. Will everything be forgot, deep freezed, quick
frozen like garden peas.
Do my tears evaporate and head for the sky, joining the clouds as they pass by. Are my tears blown this way and
that,
are they taken far away over the ocean. As planes pass through the
clouds that are my tears, can the passengers hear Can the passengers
hear my tears, all my hopes and fears, or are my tears Drowned out by
the in flight movie, 007 killing my prayers to heaven.
Do
my tears wash away my pain, my guilt, are they like mothers’ milk? For
tears touch us all, they are like a morning mist that shrouds us. For
tears are the dark dark night of the soul, a cold coat that covers us.
In the morning we remember we fell asleep crying, but what of now? Now
we’ve looked at our dead mum’s photo and think of what she would have
said. We smile as we remember, her fight, her love, her spirit, her
smile. But never tears,
she shed no tears for us, she shed no tears for us. Tears will come, tears will come again, but they are just
water, we are stronger Than mere water, we have a boat and that boat is Love.
****Well I dug this out from my PC I wrote it a year ago...Michael
26. From A to B or From Sat Nav to Blocked Sink By Michael Casey
Well I hope you are all fine this morning. For us the Sat Nav debate continues.
In
the old days a Black Taxi would not be seen using an AtoZ, it was
beneath his dignity. He'd done the Knowledge and it was all up there in
his head. Jack Rozenthal wrote a great play about it, was it 30years
ago? Maureen Lipman was his real wife.
Delivery
drivers have and egg and bacon butty in one hand dripping egg on to the
AtoZ in their other hand while they try and deliver a chest of drawers,
with 5 days growth of beard for good measure.
Bus
drivers know their route, so once they've done it a while its
automatic, they know what they are doing. All they have to do is put up
with kids trying to use a 3 day old ticket, and not get too high from
all the cannabis on the bus. Or remember when they have switched routes
because that can lead to strange directions.
Door
to door salesmen all those years ago, with the rap at tat tat on the
back door had their route carrying the suitcase with samples in. I can
vaguely remember one at our back door did my mum buy a clothes brush?
But that
must be 45 years ago.
So basically we all know what we want and where we are
going. Going further back they say people only knew a
six block radius around their home. Going to War changed
all that as did radio and then more importantly tv. Tv
being our eyes on the world, previous to that only
Merchant Seaman knew of the world. My own granddad was a
merchant seaman, I sometimes wonder did he ever get to
Shanghai
Or was it me, his grandson who got there first. Had he visited at the turn of the 19th/20th Century 100years and more ago.
Which
brings us back to Sat Nav. Me I use a bus which is fine apart from the
pot heads who sit next to you on the bus and all I want to do is puke.
My wife is a car driver, so she and our girls love the car. But my wife
has borrowed a Sat Nav and likes the ease of it so now she wants one of
her own. The result is that I’m being nagged to provide one. You pay, me
pay, yes you pay, why me pay, because you are the husband so you pay,
no way me pay, you pay you pay yourself, I say. And on the ding
dong, sing song goes. Which is the fun part. Me I no pay, use computer I say. You can get perfect directions off
the
computer all you then have to do is print them off, if our printer was
still working we’d be doing that. So really all the wife has to do is
copy them down, in English.
She’s
busy with the wok as I talk to you, she’s compromised now, she only
wants me to pay half. So I say I’ll be doubly generous and double the
share I won’t pay, I’ll pay zero and she can pay 100%. That’s the true
spirit
of negotiation, now I have another thing to resolve, she’s blocked the
sink, so pardon me now as I take the plunge, or rather take the plunger
to the sink, no need to use a Sat Nav to get there, its over my shoulder
in the next room, just turn left at the tv and go straight on to the
sound of bubbles. Love is everywhere don’t you know it, just find it, no
Sat Nav required.
27.Read My Mind ©
By
Michael Casey
I
just read in the Sunday paper that soon they’ll be able to read my
mind, everybody’s mind. A computer firm is scanning brains so that in
future you can control your computer with just a thought.
“Where
do you do to my lovely when you’re alone and in your bed, tell me the
thoughts that surround you” as Peter Sarstead sung in the old and very
good song.* Now the song was a great song, perhaps they’ll play it on
Magic again soon.
But
our thoughts are private like the sunglasses of our mind. They ring
fence our brain and keep strangers out, they hide our boredom when at
Company events, the same speech and the same director laughing at his
own jokes while as one we all think “what a plonker”. A whole hall
wishing he’d stop so we could get on with the entertainment, free bar
and circus.
Politicians lie, we all think they do, and if we could
read
their minds we’d all throw cabbages at them, or eggs or just
manifestos. We heard what Gordon really though of that lady and it
helped lose the Election for him. Then
the
apology shambles, you can’t take back something like that. If somebody
could read Gordon’s mind they would have dived in to save him before he
even said it. Politicians need to be clear but they never are. Why have
clarity when you can have deniability. Let’s just wish Gordon a good
relaxing next 5 years.
But
what of you and what of me. You see a girl, you see a boy, you’ve got
your shades on, you take a good hard look, the object of your attention
cannot see your eyes, you try and look cool and not move your head an
inch. But you lust after him, you lust after her. Choose your own words
as to what you are thinking, or are you lusting. Well they’ll never know
because they cannot read your mind. But if they could, they’d be a few
slapped faces that’s for sure. Or they’d be a few sudden snogs in
doorways and in bus shelters or on the top decks of buses. And all
because we can read each other’s minds. Perhaps in the future the gismo
to read minds would be attached to your shades, so you’d look cool while
they drool.
What
about your mum if she could read your mind? She’d be sending you to bed
without supper, she’d scream and shout “get out of my house.”
What
about old gran and granddad, they’d know what you really think of them.
Do you love them or are you just playing along to get their money when
they die. Reading Minds is a dangerous thing, we need protection
from ourselves, a stray spoken word can hurt, but
luckily our words are locked up in our minds and they can
be chosen and picked and used with caution. But if they
were there all naked in front of us, no nuances, no
clarification then we’d all be in big trouble. I believe
we think
4
times faster than we speak, but speech is our filter so that we DO pick
the right words, we don’t say the wrong thing. Reading Minds can be
dangerous, yes it would be great if you could walk down the road and
have all the girls dreaming of you, but what if you were walking down
the road and you could heard everybody’s inner voice saying I hate you.
What You Don’t Know Cann’t Hurt You, so as far as I’m concerned I’ll
Fortune Telling to Gypsies.
*Peter Sarstead copyright
28.My Daddy’s like Google he knows everything © By Michael Casey
My
kids were in London today for a day out with my wife and one of her
friends. Me I stayed home I’d picked up some bug last night , so I
nursed my bug.
The
girls were all excited when they came home and my smallest one was
telling a story. It began with a box fell from the sky, but it was no
ordinary box, it was a magic box. So I told her to keep the idea in her
head and she could write it out in the morning, it was late now. Her
bigger sister observed that when she wrote she wrote all posh, but when
she talked she did not. I then tried to explain the difference between
:- speaking, writing, presenting, teaching. Some people may be able to
do one but this does not prove/equate to being able to do another. Then
my smallest let loose with the line that I was Google and should be a
teacher and that I should write kids books. I’ll do anything IF somebody
sponsors me, or becomes my patron, though in my case it would be Saint
Rita or Saint Jude themselves who’d help. Thinking back to 1969 I did
win a Junior Free Handwriting Competition, I have the certificate
somewhere, Brook Bond sponsored it, I’d forgotten about it till just
now.
Daddy, any daddy has to try and be an encyclopaedia to give his kids some information, in some SciFi film or it
may have been in Dr Who I saw a battered Robot became the teacher, with holograms too. If only I could be some sort
of
magician, then that would be swell as the Americans say, card tricks
with lessons on, sleight of hand passing messages of learning. I am
award that I have to try hard and give good information out, otherwise
1984 becomes a reality, rubbish becomes fact, and facts become rubbish.
There are more questions than answers, luckily I’m very eclectic so I
can give a base camp answer, then watch as their minds click and you can
see from their expression, from the look in their eyes that they
understand and they can begin to work things out for themselves or just
have a look online. The main thing though is that Daddy, this daddy, me,
encourages his girls to use their brains. The cobwebs may grow IF I
didn’t have children asking
this and asking that. In a couple of years time my
biggest daughter can read my book, it’s a 12 certificate
so although she’s seen it she’ll just have to wait for
the dubious honour of reading daddy’s The Butcher The
Baker and The Undertaker.
29. Its Just got to be Winnie The Pooh
Its
Just Got to be Winnie The Pooh. My youngest daughter just loves Winnie
The Pooh, my wife thinks it’s because I look like Winnie The Pooh, judge
for yourselves.
We
have a collection of soft toys tidied away behind the settee, about 40 I
think. Every now and then my small daughter lines them up in rows and
she's the teacher. Winnie The Pooh is always 1st in the queue. Then she
takes the register and tells the toys to pay attention. Then she reads
to them, everything is done in an orderly way. I think she'll end up a
scientist as she's so organised, my wife did Science back in Shanghai,
so its in the genes. Her Chinese grandfather did a bit of writing too,
as did her Chinese great uncle, and then there is me
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com , so writing is in the blood too. Does
anybody remember Abbott the Physics text book? That just sprung to mind,
we were told to read it cover to cover, my brother actually did do
that.
So
back to Winnie The Pooh, I'm being told that she wants a Winnie The
Pooh lunchbox, she just saw it in the Netto leaflet that came through
our door. Then another leaflet
had
a Winnie The Pooh duvet and duvet cover. I did buy her a Winnie The
Pooh blow up cushion but that delevoped a slow leak, so I stuffed Winnie
the Pooh with a few old pillows, and she was able to continue sitting
on it. We
have
Winnie The Pooh dvds and some old VHS tapes too, and a few days ago we
bought her a Winnie The Pooh cutlery set along with a face cloth. So
thats just the tip of a
big
iceberg, she has a white Tigger thats not really Tigger but he does
look like a very very pale snow Tigger. When she grows up we will tease
her about this. But I know one day a chubby cuddly man will ask my
permission to marry her, perhaps his name will be Christopher Robin.
30. The Best Years Of Our Lives © By Michael Casey
They
say that the best years of our lives are our schooldays. Maybe its
true, but we are all too busy doing the homework, or suffering Latin
homework. I can vouch for Latin in Grammar school, it’s a form of
torture, but it does help your vocabulary, and it does make you
perservere.
I
suppose Uni is the best days of your lives too, until you get the bill.
And realise that nobody rates a degree any more because everybody has
one so the currency is devalued. 3 years experience doing something
while you did you degree in film studies. So the experienced one gets
the job.
Getting
married and setting up home, are they the best years of our lives? Then
the first baby and the lack of sleep, learning to catch and throw dirty
nappies out the house, just like a wicket keeper.
Finally
getting your book published. Getting a few plays on the stage, having a
column in The Sun and The Telegraph, would these be the best days of
our lives. www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Or is it the old days, when your life is in part 2, when
the grave can be seen in the distance, it may be 50years
away but you’ve have the 1st 50 years so you are on the
slide to the grave. With experience and love your view of
life has changed, you have a young family, but you know
how to love them. You can feel it in the air, you can see
it in the garden, you can hear the children’s laughter,
you can enjoy a glass or two, but you are at Peace,
that’s when you have reached The Best Days Of Your Life.
31. Let My Tears Be My Words (c) by Michael Casey
Let There Be Light © By Michael Casey
Let my tears be my words
Let the candle light be my eyes Let the flowers in bloom be my lips Let their scent be my blood
Let the wind be my breath Let clouds be my mood
Let
children’s laughter be my hope Let widows’ sighs be my conscience Let a
stranger’s prayers be my delight Let the bees be my wisdom
Let the trees be my strength
Let my patience reach to the stars
Let me be always remembered in your prayers End
p.s.
**** I hope you enjoy my poetry, there's more at www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Poems are like butterflies there appear from nowhere and flutter by, we are amazed by their beauty then they are
gone.
This one came to me about 2 years ago when I was hiding in St Phillips
cathedral during my lunch break. I got the 1st couple of lines. Once
home I sat in my old big blue chair in front of the computer and then
worked out the rest. You can see a photo on my site. I have now updated
the old chair, all I need is a new computer.
32. The Lambs have gone its Silent © By Michael Casey
The Lambs have gone its Silent, my girls are in London today, my wife took them there. So I'm home alone, and its so silent.
"Dad, what does xyz mean" asks my big daughter, but she's not here,
I
explain and tell her to use one of the dictionaries we have. I want her
to be able to find out answers herself. When you explain things you
find that you try and be so exact so that you don't confuse your kids.
It probably makes me think more clearly too.
This
morning my smallest girl put a Tamagatu purple cat on the desk, she
said it would keep me company while they were away. Its still on the
desk besides me as I talk to you. My old copy of Don Camillo's Dilemma
is there too, I've read 50pages just 200 more to go, then its Don
Camillo meets the Hells Angels, then I'm done, 6 books
all
about a Catholic priest and a Communist Lord Mayor. The stories were
1st written over 50 years ago, I know no Italian so I read them in
English translation. I was actually going to learn Italian several years
ago, only I got distracted by this Shanghai girl, I married her, you
can
see some photos of us all on this site, we were at a wedding a few days
ago. I'm the George Clooney look alike in the photos, though my hair
looks as though I've washed it in DAZ. Our 2 girls are there too, along
with the
wife,
not forgetting the Bride and Groom. As for Italian, I put the books in
an old holdall and put that under my bed, years later my nephew was
learning Italian, so I donated everything to him.
You
could hear a pin drop in the house, its so silent, and yes I hate it.
All I have is the pain from tearing down the fence, its sharp and makes
me wince a bit, but aren't we all stupid sometimes, or is it just me
who's cornered the market. I look to my right and can hear the clock
ticking, its a battery powered but still I can hear
it.
No small girls running about in the room above me. No Blick DAB radio
blaring out Galaxy on their radio above. The clock in the living room
strikes nine, my girls
should
be getting on the train home now. London Euston to Birmingham, 28pounds
for the 3 of them with Virgin trains, see the offers for yourself. I
can hear the
boiler
click into action, heating the water for baths on their return. The
computer hums in front of me, just by my knee. I hope I win the HP Envy
17 laptop in this weeks
Sun's
competitions, our computer is 7 years old and freezes a lot. The irony
is I joined the MySUN site so I could enter the competitions, and then I
stumbled into putting my blogs here on MySun. The sound of the keyboard
echoes around our empty house.
I
jump in my seat, the telephone has just exploded, my wife has just rung
to say they missed the train. Only she was teasing, I can hear our kids
in the background on the train. So all is well, but too too quiet. I
know one
thing
I could never live alone. Tomorrow the kids will want Tux Paint on the
computer, or want to use the Graphic Tablet on the computer. There will
be noise galore, a family noise, the noise I prayed for all those years
ago.
Cheerio from Birmingham and London Euston www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
33. Take my Fence Away ©
By
Michael Casey
Well
just for something different today I took my fence away. The day had
started noisily when a courier nearly knocked my door down, and it
wasn’t even my parcel. So wishing him well I closed my door. Half an
hour later a polite knocker knocked at my door. “Sorry for disturbing
you” he began “yes you are disturbing me” I finished as I closed the
door. I don’t know about you but I just wish cold callers didn’t bother.
Or they all got a disease and took the Junk Email writers with them, a
kind of modern plague, where the skeletons decayed over computers. But
perhaps I’m being too mean today.
As
for my fence, we have a rickety old one on one side next to the entry,
its parallel supports with boards nailed alternately on the inside and
on the outside. However with age it’s developed a stoop, or backward
lunge, a kind of limbo dancing look.The alley is kind of blocked because
of this, but nobody uses it but me, however I decided it was getting
dangerous, so the fence had to go. Just in case. So I leant on the fence
and it creaked and groaned, not unless that was my back. 3
sections
gave way, the supporting posts had had it for years. Then all I had to
do was saw the last bit away. Only I don’t have a saw, but I do have a
metal saw ,or rather just the blade which was part of the tools I
inherited 30 years ago. They gather dust mainly as I am not a DIY kind
of person. I can work out what needs to be done, but as for doing it, I
leave that to the experts. I once tried painting a wall, only it took
gallons of
paint,
the wall was covered in a wallpaper that was just like carpet, so it
just soaked up the paint, a bit like painting a bear I suppose, not that
I’ve ever tried painting a bear.
But
back to the fence, finally I’d sawn away the last support and I had a
kind of wooden ladder in my entry. All I had to do was heave it to the
rubbish area at the bottom of my garden. I had to jump up and down to
break it up, I had to be very careful too as there were 6 inch nails all
over it. Rusty nails but still dangerous, apart from the one I nearly
stabbed my chest with, everybody must have done similar such things. Did
I ever tell you when I painted my bathroom. It’s on my site somewhere
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Michael’s Bathroom.
But back to the fence, I was triumphant when I
was
finished, then the washing line broke, my bright orange Polo top with a
polo scene on it went sailing to the ground along with my jeans.
Another task for me. Over the road in the hardware store I got a plastic
washing line, £4.50 I was robbed. I also bought some green twine,
£1.60, I had an idea you see. Once home I got my biggest daughter to
hold the end while I tied it to the tree and then to the peg in the
wall. I didn’t realise
just
how long 20m is, so I was able to have 2 new plastic washing lines.
This is good in the long run as I live with 3 girls, if only I had
another bathroom, but I need
a
lottery win before that happens, or Rupert Murdoch sees this and gives
me a job. Hold on a second while I watch a pig fly past.
So
now I had a new washing line, all I needed was a new fence. That’s
where the twine comes in. I called my girls outside, together we ran up
and down the yard tying the twine to what was left of the supporting
posts. A kind of net, a bit like the net at Wimbledon was formed.
Straight lines then vertical lines in between, plus some coloured paper
to make it more attractive. My big daughter has
done
crochet at school so she was well pleased with her efforts. My wife
said it looked like prison bars but she just has no imagination said me
and the girls. We hope small birds will rest on the top line and sing to
us. It was a fun hour or so, apart from the twinge in my back, the
fence was heavy after all. I forgot one thing, I wanted to teach the
girls about Gravity, so I shook the Apple Tree at the bottom of the
garden and they watched the apples fall, Newton remembered. Then they
gathered a few apples and pretended to cook them, the apples were
bobbing in a container, Archimedes came to mind so I mentioned him to
them. All in all an educational Summers Day.
34. So hypnotize me© By Michael Casey
So hypnotize me
I
was just picking up the kids from the school on the hill, I overheard a
mum saying that her son was thinking of doing Hypnotism as a subject
for part of his University course. It made me think about what kind of
world we’d be if we could use hypnotism to iron out the rough spots. If
we could use it to make us all shiny and new all the time. It made me
think of Sci fi films, from Logan’s Run to Matrix, the perfect world.
So
what if it was just weight loss, or fear of animals that was hypnotized
away. You used to be able to listen to a tape while you slept and then
hey presto in the morning you could speak Chinese. That’d be good in our
house as my wife is a Shanghai girl and our girls speak Chinese with
her while I’m trying to write here at the computer.
Learning piano via hypnotism would be good too, my small daughter is now trying out the guitar after playing on
the
piano for 30mins. We saved up for years to buy the piano and then my
brother gave us a child size guitar which he’d picked up cheap in The
Works. My girl is
making up a song now behind me as I talk to you, its hard trying to type when you’re trying not to laugh, try it for yourself.
Now
hypnotists use a watch to hypnotize, so that’d interest me straight
away, just the watch. I have a Russian KGB officer automatic at present,
if you’re read
The
Watch and Me you’ll know about me and watches. When I have some money I
hope to buy an Oris watch, but it will have to be a strong one. So
there I am being hypnotized
to
learn after dinner speaking, I’d really love to get on that circuit,
however I don’t know any Freemasons. I’m being hypnotized when I realize
the hypnotist has a lovely Omega, so what happens. My love of watches
overrules the hypnotist, I escape with his Omega and the hypnotist is
found staring at the clock at New Street Station, he’s mumbling just
look into my eyes, look into my eyes. I’m sent back to the hypnotist,
he’s very famous, he has a Cartier Bleu watch, he just gives it to me,
everything becomes a blur.In the morning I wake up in bed speaking
Chinese and giving an after dinner speech, on one wrist is an Omega, on
the other is a Cartier Bleu. As for the hypnotist he’s found on the no8
bus going around and around Birmingham, on his wrist is my Russian
KGB officer watch, and guess what, he’s speaking Russian.
Das Vidanya Everybody, Michael
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
35. Pizza and Rice© Pizza and Rice
I
wouldn’t say I have a love affair with frozen food, say pizza, nor that
I like my bacon sandwiches so much. Its just that I used to work such
odd hours. Getting home at 9pm doesn’t encourage you to get Delia’s book
out and be creative. You just want something quick, as its 6 hours
or
so since your late lunch at 3pm. It may even be nearly 10pm when you
get home, after doing a work favour for somebody. So now your stomach
does think that your throat has been cut, it rumbles away as you sit on
the bus,
other
passengers think its the deep base of somebody’s personal stereo. Once
home its flick Sky on grab dinner from the freezer, in 10 minutes time
the dinnertime Pizza is ready, washed down by two mugs of milky coffee.
If Delia has got 1/2 a page left to fill she could just squeeze it into
one of her books.
Time
moves on and I’m married and we have two little girls. Rice is on the
menu daily, you need a degree in Oriental Languages to know what’s in
the fridge. I have a Shanghai wife who really can cook. Chopsticks make
an appearance, as does the spoon shovelling techniques for eating. I can
come home to find movement in the kitchen
sink, its alive and will soon be dinner, its a crab. Fish
is
being cooked too, the rice cooker is on, you would not believe just how
fluffy and nice rice can be. Before Shanghai, I’d have scoffed at the
idea of rice being so different, Ambrosia creamed rice from a tin was
the height of my experience, now I scoff nice rice. My wife goes to the
Korean shop to buy the rice as it tastes so good. We are lucky we have a
huge Ying Yip down the road a few miles too. Once dinner is ready there
are 3 or 5 dishes on the table, Phoenix is of the TV too. I think my
wife only came around to my house in the first place all those years ago
because I had Chinese tv, either that or she really loved my frozen
pizza. Occasionally there are prawn crackers on offer, you really have
to be quick to make these or you’ll burn them and yourself.
My
dad used to have a bowl of corn flakes as a snack before bedtime if he
was peckish, I do the same. Cereals tend to be my breakfast too as they
are so quick and easy to make, well they make themselves. My wife likes
snacks too, but they can seem tasteless to a Western tongue. However
biscuits and cakes from Sainsbury’s are a delight for her, if I search
hard enough I can find them, our
girls love them too. You have to understand if you follow
the
Eastern diet then you are very slim, both of my girls are slim and
tall, so to fall of the Eastern diet is a treat. Going to the chip shop
for them is a bit of a wonder, they get “takeaway” every day at home, so
chips is a treat. As for me my diet has improved as I have the left
overs, though I still weigh 3 times more than my size 0 wife. As for me
and Delia, we do have one thing in common, and I don’t mean our love of
food, Delia and Me are catholics.
36. Family Traits
I
was thinking about what to talk about today, as I need to practice my
writing skills, Eric Clapton once said in an interview that if you don't
practice you could lose your gifts, so practice. So this is what I'm
thinking about today.
Our
kids, all of our kids inherit things from their parents. Beauty or lack
of it, freckles and red hair or not. Being a bonnie baby or not, being
quiet or not. Our first daughter was very quiet and did not wake us up
in the night. However the 2nd one was the opposite, if she
was the 1st one then maybe we wouldn't have bothered with a 2nd. Ask your own friends for their experiences. Our
1st
one was born in the early hours, I got home at 3am and had to explain
to my Shanghai mother in law that it was a daughter. A week previously I
had been to my brother's house where we loaded up an estate car, Steve
from Steve's takeaway had helped. My brother had saved everything from
his kids and now he passed it on to me.Then once home me and the mother
in law had constructed the cot, without any common language between us,
it took 1.5hours. Today it would take 1/2 that time as the mother in law
understands a lot more English and
I'm much better at contructing flat packs.
Our
1st girl was born almost on Padre Pio's own Birthday, he being the
Saint who'd started the ball rolling so to speak. Our daughter was big,
like me I suppose. But she has perfect Chinese hair, the kind of hair
girls would kill for. Look at the photos here and judge for yourself.
Apart from that I suppose she looks very Western.
The
thing you learn very fast when you have a baby is how to change nappies
and get them and their smell out the house. You save all the plastic
bags from shopping, and its a bit like wicket keeping, a catch and a
throw and
out the door. Ask any cricketers if nappy changing is as I've explained. I'm sure they'll agree.
As
children grow then traits appear. Our 2nd child is very funny. Before
she was born she was in Shanghai and her granddad was making my wife
laugh. A child in the womb can hear, so our daughter would have heard
all the laughter, as did her born sister. I think my wife was 8 months
pregnant when she returned home. I can remember waiting at Heathrow
after they'd had 2 months in Shanghai. My daughter was sitting on the
luggage trolley being pushed by grandma, behind was my very pregnant
wife.
I was crying with happiness. And as the cot was already ready, no
1.5hours of Lego like building. Drawing is a delight for both my girls.
My wife can do all fancy stuff, Calligraphy and Chinese letters etc. She
even used to go drawing of some sort for the Police in Shanghai. One of
my brothers is good too. So drawing is in both sides of the gene pool.
As
kids grow the family features show. My big daughter looks like me when I
was her age, its like Dr Who in a way, she is my past and I am her
future, its a bit spooky as the resemblance is so very strong. My other
daughter apparently looks exactly like my wife when she was young though
she is Western looking. So Nature has given each of us, a clone so to
speak. Our youngest also has the fantasic hair too. You'd have to do
some market research amongst your friends to see if all of them rate
hair as the best thing to have. So long as neither of them go white
early like me.
37. Dress Sense
Do
men have any dress sense? Walk down your local street and see what you
can see. Me I've not worn a shirt for a year. I prefer rugby shirts,
even though its decades since I was dangerous on a rugby field. Rugby
shirts can
be pulled on and pulled off and thrown in the washing
machine. I have a bright orange one with a polo scene on
it, in fact I have 3 exactly the same. I bought then in
Sawgrass Mills Florida which is the biggest shopping mall
in Florida. There was a sale on when I was there so I
ended up buying 3. At my size you take your bargains when
they come. As for shoes, are black shoes only for the
office and interviews. Personally I like comfy shoes,
brown ones too. I always buy 2 pairs together in the 1/2
price
sale. I suppose I could be related to Ken Clarke such is my choice of
shoes. When I used to wear shirt and ties I always wore bright colours,
reds or yellows, that’s the ties not the shirts. Boring white or blue
shirts were my choice. Never buy a non iron shirt because they always DO
need ironing and they are impossible to iron and end up looking like a
dried out prune. And don't forget to comb your hair and brush and
dandruff off. The worse thing in the world is dandruff on your
shoulders. Moving on, trousers should always be comfortable, if you bend
down to tie your shoelaces and you hear a ripping noise that means the
trousers were too tight. Only John Travalta can look cool in tight
trousers. So be honest with yourself, if you look like Shrek in a suit
then
CHANGE.
Though I have to confess I've been told I'm a bit of a Shrek, even
though I thought my 18.5 inch neck with a bright red tie hanging from it
made me look important. Ah well what can a man do? Well ask your wife
could be a good idea, but run for the hills if she says she'll come
shopping with you. You know it'll mean you'll end up with 2 new pink
shirts, while she buy 20 items she really really needs.
Happy Shopping everybody.
38. Home ©
by
Michael Casey
Home
is where the heart is. Homeless is outside a house looking in wishing
it were your home .Put into a Home is where due to circumstances a loved
one has to be put into care.
As I talk to you this morning I have a drawing on the
desk
propped up by the computer speakers .It’s a drawing of a girl with all
her hair to one side, she has long eyelashes and is carrying a small
bag. Besides the biro drawing of the girl is a big heart and some stars,
written
above is “For Daddy.” I have a notepad on the desk in front of the
computer monitor so my girls love leaving drawings. On the side of the
fridge is this weeks spelling list, held there by magnets that aunty
gave us. On top of the fridge is a fruit bowl full of fruit and sweets.
By
the
fruit bowl is container full of pens and crayons, a shopping list in
Mandarin beside it. There are photos of family scattered about the
house, in one corner photos of my mum and dad both long gone, but still
much loved. When you get to Heaven you’ll see them is what I say to my
girls.We found a stilly photo of me so I put it on the
shelf
next to the huge red Chinese dictionary, the fairy from the Christmas
tree is also on that shelf waiting ever patiently for Christmas to
return. Behind me is a painting of an angel a Bourne Jones copy, blowing
a flute thing. Girls shoes are scattered about the house, waiting to
trip me up. Behind the sofa in this room are two huge bags of soft toys,
waiting to escape .Once my smallest is back home she’ll release the
soft toys from their
Jail.
Then she’ll line them up in rows and sitting on the teddy bear wooden
stool she’ll be teacher. All the toys have names and she’ll chide them
as together they learn this week’s spellings. Her big sister has her
nose in a book, she’s determined to win a prize from the local library
for reading the most books. I told her I read everything in the school
library when I was young. The sound of chickens comes from the living
room LULU, not that lulu, but a chat show queen on Phoenix can be heard.
Then my wife is on the phone while she shakes her big wok. I look
outside and am pleased to see my sea of shamrock, I transplanted it here
many years ago, it nearly died during the harsh Winter we just had but
now I have enough for all of Riverdance. I’ll stop there for now. But
you can see what I’m on about. A home is a
combination
of all the things I’ve just talked about. A home is a physical place,
but it is much more than that. It’s the little things inside the house
that turn it into
a
home. Such as the Looney Chick toy that I’m using as a cushion, my
girls brought it back all the way from Shanghai last year, and now we
use it as a cushion. The drawings on the desk in front of me are done
with love by my girls. Sharing a pack of Rolos, even though you love
them so much, this is home, this is family. In the end, where there is
love then there is a home. Without the love even if your home was better
than a 5 star hotel, then it really wouldn’t be a home, it would be
just a location. For as we all know Home is where the Heart is.
39. The Weather Forecast© By Michael Casey
In
England we have weather, elsewhere they have climate. Which may explain
why here in England we are obsessed by the weather and the weather
forecast. I know my own wife always demands I change channels so she can
decide if she can put the washing out, and what clothes she can wear. I
tell her she can press the red button, but that’s no good she wants the
live show of the weather. Then she can hang my pants out, and get
changed. When I visited Shanghai a decade ago we’d be walking back to
her mum’s flat she’d point to the sky and there on the bamboo rods were
my pants blowing in the wind. Just like a flag she laughed.
So
nothing much has changed, only the location of my pants. Now on an old
fashioned washing line in Old Forge and Singing Anvil, then on a bamboo
pole 4 flights up in Shanghai, and there were no lifts in her mum’s
block of flats, lucky for us we did not have to walk to the 10th floor.
Explains why the Chinese are so fit and thin.
But
why do we love the weather so much? Because its so variable, so we lust
after news of the weather, lust is the correct word too. People go mad
when the sun pops out. Where I live its as if there is an alarm, the
alarm
goes
off and suddenly all the men are out on the street of Old Forge and
Singing Anvil, with shorts on. Really ugly legs too, me I never wear
shorts, though I once met Freddie Garretty from Freddie and the
Dreamers. Remember the song? Who wears short shorts, we wear short
shorts.
Am
I really getting old, or do I just have a good memory for trivia.
Whatever, where I live men just love getting their legs out. They must
have an alarm in their pockets attached to their mobile phone, text
message tells them to get their shorts on.
So don’t get burnt everybody and don’t forget the sunscreen.
40. Call Centre Calling © By Michael Casey
We
all just love call centres, we all just love it when they call when
we've just sat down on the toilet and we're expecting a call from
grandma in Shanghai. So the phone rings and we dash for the Andrex and
the sink to wash our hands in. Then still pulling up our pants, we
fall
down stairs just as Norman Wisdom or Brian Rix would do, then pulling
up our pants and doing up our trouser's belt we pass by the hall mirror
and see the black eye we've just got. We answer the phone, there is a
long long pause, as if the call centre guy is having a final drag
on
his **** before answering, "hi I'm Guy, could I interest you in cable
tv, I've got such a great package to offer." his voice oh so so sexy, in
his imagination anyway. Has he not heard of Sky, the best package. So
we swear in Shanghai dialect, and hang up the phone. Then we notice our
trousers are split, the one's grandma in Shanghai had made for us, the
trousers for her Panzi, her Fat Fat Boy son in law.
If only we could get revenge, just like in Bruce
Almighty. A bottled water company rings, so we click our fingers and its as if the Dam Busters had breached that
dam,
a sodden girl will NEVER ring your number again. Then there's a knock
at your door, it’s the Mormons, you smile and smile, and they start
running away, only asking which way is the airport. Why? Well I'll leave
that to your imagination. The phone rings again, so you do heavy
breathing, only for a voice at the other end of the phone to say "I'm
Sergeant Dixon, would you be interested in joining the neighbourhood
watch scheme." "Sorry Wrong Number is your reply." You decide to change,
you're half way up the stairs when the phone ring again, you turn and
fall down the stairs again. Your wife is just in the door and she
answers the phone, she can see you over her shoulder, "I told you you
were too fat for those trousers" You trip over again, "bloody call
centres is all you can say."
41. Go to bed with the Japanese© By Michael Casey
I
just read about the Japanese being asked to go to bed early to save
energy and the carbon footprint and so forth. I don't know about you but
that'd end in a baby boom in my family. The good old days of 12
children and so forth. Shifts for the bed and the first one up being the
best one dressed. With the Japanese perhaps an early whale sandwich on
the tube to work. So they'd save the planet but wipe out the whale. More
sleep is a good idea, then you have more dreaming opportunities. I have
a dream etc. Perhaps with more sleep the Japanese would invent more
things. My wife is almost Japanese as are all her relatives and fellow
citizens of Shanghai, Shanghai has
so much pride they could almost be Japanese. Don't forget the song too, "I'm turning Japanese, I really think so."
Top
of the Pops memories come flooding back. For my own part I've
discovered the joys of headphones and a personal DAB radio, its great if
you don't want to go to sleep yet. Radio4 Midnight news followed by a
bit of Bob Harris or Magic Radio. Sleeping is good but you have to
collate your day before you go off to the land of Nod. Then you are in a
relaxed state so you really chill with
the music. Chill is another DAB station, listen to this
and sometimes you could really be in Japan, in one of
those sleeping capsules in one of those small hotels.
Sleep really is the greatest gift of all, once you have
your 1st baby you will really know what I mean. You sleep
less when you get older, so I've heard, but then you can
put the radio on and listen to something, or just read a
book while you stay all nice and cosy with the duvet
around you. Which brings me to my final thought, if we
all used duvets we wouldn't need to use energy to heat
our bedrooms, and did the Japanese invent duvets?
42. My Old Age© By Michael Casey
I'm
called "grandpa" by the teachers when I pick up my kids from school.
Because my hair is prematurely white. In a way its a joke, but I am over
40 years older than my kids. I was a late starter, but I do have a
young wife, who looks even younger because she's from the East, Shanghai
to be exact. In the East they respect Old Age, so I'm all in favour of
that. But as for having a good old age, I think I'll be dead, I won't
last that long.
I'll have to work to at least 66, and maybe 67. So I'll
be
worn out by the time it comes to retire. My dad was a blacksmith and
then spent 40years in a steel works, The District Iron and Steel in
Brasshouse Lane Smethwick. Has a ring to it don't you agree? He retired a
year or two early when the works was closed down. He had ten golden
years with my mum, then mum died, then he had 5 years in an old people's
home, read Padre Pio and Me www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com But he at
least had those golden ten years.
My
brother was made redundant and now at 60 he's retired. He can look
forward to 20+years of relaxation and learning. Me I've got 14 years
more to do, if there's any
jobs left. If I could win that lottery, then I'd retire
today
and write more books. Or if I could get something produced/published
then I'd be able to retire. The chances of that happening, probably
zero, but strange things have happened, read Literary Criticism on my
site. Perhaps the government should start a National Laughter Campaign
to cheer us all up, Ken Dodd should be ringmaster. The thought of years
of slavery is saddening, perhaps we could start a National Singing
Campaign, a kind of whistle while you work, Arthur Askey reincarnated to
pass all those extra working years away. We could sing the Song of The
Hebrew Slaves, for that's what'll happen, retire at 95 IF we're still
alive, in the year of 2010 If we're still alive
43. My favourite sweets
My
favourite sweets are, now let me stop before I continue. What are your
favourite sweets, as you sit in front on the PC, a cup of coffee perched
by your screen as you read this instead of doing those oh so
interesting Excel reports for the boss. Can you remember back to when
you were a child? Or have you never given up on sweets, or are you a
parent? Well for me it was always a Cadbury's Crunch. My brother would
sell his very soul for a Rolo, my youngest daughter loves them too, her
delight is squashing them until these stick to our glass coffee table,
which is also our Chinese eating table. If you
look
though the living room window you'll think you're looking at a
restaurant or looking at China. Well you are, Shanghai to be exact, rice
with everything. With a diet like that my girls are tall and thin.
That’s why they enjoy sweets so much. My big daughter likes Caylie now,
if I've spelt it right. We all adore a nice bag of crisp,
so
an Aldi 26 pack does down well. I'm old enough to remember the salt
being in a blue bag inside the crisps, and not when they reinvented it
20 years ago, I mean 45 years ago. Pop came in heavy glass bottles which
had a penny refund on the bottle, and you could get some chews
with
the refund. I always used to drink the dregs from the pop bottles
before taking the bottles back. My brother who I'd put a red hot poker
on his leg, just for fun as kids do. Well my brother peed in a few
bottles, to simulate dregs, and yes you've guess it, I drank those
dregs. Which reminded me of the salt in crisps packets. We had an old
fashioned sweet shop just a few yards away from the family house, two
ancient sisters with a small husband between them lived there and made
bread but in the front room was a sweet shop with all those jars of
sweets. They used to say to us children as we left "off
ye go, home to your parents. So we called the shop "off ye goes".
As
you grow up your tastes change, and its a nice novelty to rediscover an
old fashioned sweet shop. Then the memories come flooding back. I'm
lucky in a way because I drunk so much milk it protected my teeth from
all the sugar. However I did give up sugar in my coffee when I was 19,
just to see if I could. Blokes discover beer and stop having sweets,
well until they are parents. As for women its said that a woman would
prefer a bar of Cadburys or Galexy instead of a man. Give her a Jackie
Collins and chocolate and maybe some Baileys and the
whole
human race could die. Sobering thought that. But it does give a whole
new meaning to "I'm Sweet on You." Cheerio from a wet Birmingham, and
don't forget wine/chocolate/beer/Dr Pepper are all best served cold just
like revenge, as any Mafia friend may tell you,
44. Praise and Reward
Praise
and Reward, it’s a sticky question. Some things don't ask for praise or
reward. Like if your kids do a small chore for you, they don't ask for a
pound, they are just happy to help you, because they love you. If you
are thirsty they'll fetch you a drink, they won't charge you for it,
they'll do it instinctively. Just as my daughter
did
this evening when she watched me decorating, or rather my attempts at
decorating, she even sacrificed her fizzy pop for me, she knows how I
prefer pop to alcohol. Sometimes I'll offer a reward and she'll turn it
down.
For
me this shows I'm bringing her up the same way I was brought up. I know
the majority of people reading this will think I'm old fashioned. I do
know that her Irish grandparents would be so proud of her if ever they
saw her, Irish granddad did hold her in his arms but after 7 months or
so he was gone, as for my mum she went early to make the tea.
Encouragement
does work and should be used all the time. My youngest daughter just
loves Matilda the film based on the Roal Dahl book. Why does she love
it? Because its funny, and because the little girl does find love with
the teacher. The teacher loves and encourages. Just as
everybody reading this does love and encourage their own
kids, even if at the moment the encouragement is to move
out of the way of the tv so all dad's mates can watch the
world cup, and isn't the garden a great place to be and
dad will give you some money for pop from the corner shop
If only the kids get out of the way of the tv.
My daugher has joined a sunday choir, so there she is praising God, and she gets rewarded with a few quid for singing.
They do say we all have to sing for our supper, just like Little Tommy Tucker.
45. A Child's Love
How can I describe a child's love? I can speak of myself
when I was a child which from the Birth Certificate was a
long time ago. Though some may say I'm still a child,
others, such as women, all women, say that men never grow
up and are always children.
I
can remember when I was 10 and I used to sit on the top step of the
stairs and we'd have a "social", me and my mum. I'd tell her all we'd
done at school and what had happened, all in quiet a large amount of
detail.Then my mum would kiss me goodnight and give me a gentle pat
sending me off to bed. There was so much love in my mum, lots and lots,
for all her big family, lots of prayer
too.
I always got an extra ice cream from my dad when we were on holiday in
Wales, we seemed to go to Abergele all the time. My dad discovered
hamburgers for the 1st and tried 1 then another then another, in the end
he had 6, such wonderful memories. I seemed to remember a castle
nearby, playing golf with my closest brother, we had 1 club and 1 putter
each, this was before Tiger Woods existed. Our parents loved us and we
loved them, this was before the Modern Family was invented too. Nobody
hated their parents then, nobody dreamed of the Wii and hating
your
parents because they would not buy you one. Tv was 2 channels and in
black and white, everything was black and white, you loved your folks
and they loved you.
Now
40 or so years later I'm married and I have two small girls of my own.
My Chinese/Irish girls who love me. Having a family when you thought you
may not ever marry, and then having 2 beautiful girls, this is very
humbling and does make me thank God. The important thing is to make sure
when they look in the mirror they don't fall in love with their
reflection. Its what's inside that
matters
I always tell them. And you know what? Even at their young age they
know that beauty fades and is worthless. A nice smile and a big big
heart is what matters, the reflection that you see in the mirror is
worthless. Mind you I always tell everybody that I fell
in
love with my wife because she made me laugh. Nobody believes me, but
there are 2 people who know I'm telling it as it is, my 2 daughters know
it. I bought a book of Poetry today, from the cheap book shop. There
are lots of of illustrations in it, 300 famous poems, including a
Children's poetry section. My biggest daughter loves to draw and she is
good, so the idea is to appeal to her eyes and to her ears. It worked,
she wanted to take the
book to bed with her. I said no as I'm old fashioned and
think books should be preserved, not bend and creased,
especially if read in bed. However as I write this I
think I should have let her. So tomorrow I will allow her
to take it to her room. However her smaller sister does
love to write on anything and everything. Perhaps I
should write a poem about that.
Girls
like to be tucked in at night and you have to tell them a story or say
prayers with them. Then 10 mins later they'll come down because they
want a drink of milk, and another kiss goodnight. And could I possibly
come upstairs and tuck them in again. Then 20mins later they need
another drink, so they come down again. Later on, the girls reappear
because they need the bathroom, well did have all those drinks. Finally
carrying more drinks they disappear up the stairs. This is our
Pantomime, a pantomime of Love. I think of my dead parents and I know
how they would laugh. And my girls are only here because my dad survived
his big heart attack, Hugs and Kisses is what little girls give. I love
you 20 is what my small daughter once said, 20 is a big number, so I'm
loved that much. I hope everybody reading this is loved 20 too!
46. Spare a Penny for Dad© By Michael Casey
They
say that if you look after the pennies the pounds/dollars will look
after themselves. So what should I say if I have a trail of pennies, if I
keep on finding pennies all over the place, a kind of trail of pennies.
And they are pennies and sometimes dimes, for my daughter has decided
to leave American coins all over the place for me to find. We were in
Florida in 2006 and we
no
doubt brought back a few coins. My daughter has found them and thinks
its fun to leave them all over the house for me to find. I don't know if
its just a joke, or is
she
trying to encourage me with this trail of coins. Someday I'll win some
money, or maybe even the lottery and then we can buy a big house and
then she can have an arts and crafts room. That would be better than a
trail
of
paint and water up the stairs to her room. It is nice to find the odd
American coin, it makes me smile and it reminds me just how much she
loves me. Her younger sister has no notion of money, we don't give her
money, we buy her any things she wants so we avoid giving her cash.
Its better to keep children innocent as long as possible,
some
children demand money and know notes are a lot better/bigger than
coins. This always strikes me as taking the innocent away from children,
just as saying Santa does not exist is a bad and evil thing to say.
Everybody knows Santa is real. Anyway don't let your children fall in
love with money, my youngest doesn't even know that the brown coins have
less value that the silver ones, nor that the gold ones are best of
all. I want that to stay that way as long as possible. Streetwise kids
are a sad reflection of society, mine will stay safe for as long as
possible.
And
as for a trail of American coins around the house, they are my big
daughter's joke, for she knows I'm happy to find even one penny,
especially as it means she loves me.
Goodnight I have to tuck my children in bed now, and that is better that all the pennies or pounds in the world.
47. Jigsaws in Your Mind
I'm
dreaming of a White Christmas makes us all think of Snow and Love and
the film with Bing Crosby, not forgetting Family. A few bars of a song
and we are away, our minds are somewhere else. Mind you in today's world
its a few drugs, or so called legal highs and the youth
of
today are away. Their minds turning to mush. Me I like to use my mind
and not destroy it. I've been thinking about Tears For A Butcher which
will be the follow up to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.
Words, ideas ,dreams float by and I sew them together, not with a needle
and thread but with imagination. It takes time and a lot of energy to
create a jigsaw that is a story which turns into a book. It’s like word
association, or an old photo that’s discovered and brings back memories.
We found a photo of me in shorts and wearing glasses I was alongside my
tall brother, we were in Oxford visiting my brother at University. An
angel
poise lamp was in the photo, the same angel poise lamp that’s sat in a
corner of my brother's house today. Pictures lead to memories and in
some cases to more futures, dreaming of the spires of learning, but
that’s another story and another university. When I write its
with
passion, I really am taken over by the words, by the thoughts,
sometimes its like an avalanche and I'm right in the middle of it. I
couldn't be all clinical and planned and precise. I'm not an architect, I
am a dustman, I pick up what I find and use it, I transform
it,
and If I can be pretentious, it transforms me too. We have a friend who
just loves music so I emailed him my best 3 poems and to his surprize
he now now thinks I'm a poet, in fact his wife just rung my wife, about
some recipe no doubt. Chinese folks are just mad for their
food. Anyways with Poems they sneak into my mind and then I sit down with the idea and I finish it off. BUT Poems
are
in charge of me and now me in charge of them. In Nov 1987 I wrote a
poem called The Dead and The Living because I wanted Percy the
Undertaker in my novel to be a man of great tenderness, a poet in fact.
The idea came to me on a bus as I was on my way to my Sunday shift as a
computer operator. I knew then that I would never write anything better
than those few lines. However last year I had a line come to me while I
was in Saint Phillips Cathedral having a rest and a sit down. The line
was Let my Tears be my words. When I got home I sat down and finished
the poem with my daughter sat on the edge of my
chair.
When I finished I realised that I'd just written something better than
the Dead and The Living, it had taken 22years. Such is the nature of
Poetry. As for my comedy writing I start somewhere and a connection will
take me somewhere else, a bit like being a ball in a pinball machine, I
get knocked and flipped and nudged until I end up in quite a different
place to where I began. It is very tiring. Two hours is like a 12 hour
shift, because I'm using all my juices. I have toyed with the idea of
writing Tears for A Butcher, in fact the 1st chapter is down on paper
and in cyberspace. But I don't want to commit myself to a year of
writing, If I sold some of my other stuff then, or if I had a fan base,
then yes. But for the moment no, so I am content to be a windmill in my
mind, and yes it really is my favourite song.
48. Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting
Marrying
a Shanghai girl brought many changes to my life. The sound of chickens
clucking for one, Chinese really does sound like chickens in a hen
house, if you listen to the wife talk to her friends over the Internet
or on the phone or when a few are around the house.Chickens,
chickens,chickens. The Mandarin for it is "quock quock quar" or
something like that. Just ask ask your own Chinese friends and they will
agree. They'll also tell
you
that Panzi my own Chinese nickname means FAT FAT BOY, not a fat boy,
but FAT FAT BOY. I finally get married and have a family and I get
called Panzi. Weighing 3 times as much as the wife or mother in law, has
nothing to do with it, honest I'm a priest you can believe me.
Films
brought us together and we still enjoy watching films on tv. If I could
afford Sky Films I'd love to have it, and a Sky+ HD box. Our Sky+ box
is always filled with films for all the family, Over the Hedge, Bride
and Prejudice and all manner of stuff. Occasionally we have to cull the
films to make room for more. Sky+ really is a godsend for any family. I
was just watching Kung Fu Hussle which had Steven Chow in it. It really
was great fun. Lots of Kung Fu action and lots of fun , and I do
mean fun. It was in Chinese with the bottom of the screen cut off for the sub titles. I was really laughing, it was
on
Film4. Chinese Kung Fu films are like ballet and yes beyond belief but
great great fun. If you don't normally watch subtitled films then please
take a chance on my review skills. Do watch and laugh along. I won't
tell you anything else about it I don't want to spoil it. Previously
there was another film on the tv, it was called Red Flowers, again in
Chinese with subtitles. This was about a nursery and how a child was
dumped there, it had no Kung Fu in it, but it was really charming. How
they got all the small children to act in it I'll never
know but it was well worth a watch. I was asking my kids
just
how much Mandarin they each understood, one was busy reading the
subtitles while the other seemed to understand a great deal of it.
Having 2 languages I hope
will pay dividends for my kids. In the future they can
bring Crunchies and Dr Pepper to me when I'm retired,
they should be able to afford them if them keep their
language skills up. Their heart they get from me and
their beauty from my wife.
I'll leave it there for tonight.
49. What is Prayer ? What is Love? ©
By
Michael Casey
What
is Faith? We are told in one Bible passage that if a man can do many
things yet there is no Love then man has achieved nothing. I remember
this being read at grammar school at the morning assembly. . Sorry if I
cannot quote
it verbatim. I'd come home from work and my dad would be sitting down in the living room his dinner on a chair so
he
could watch the news ,he'd have the first bite raised to his mouth. I'm
not hungry he'd say and offer me his dinner. This is love. Another
time, another shift pattern. I'd come home at 11p. Dad would wait up to
see me before he'd go to bed, he'd be up at 5am for his work the next
morning. This is the standard I'm used to, I'll do the same for my own
children. Its normal, it’s obvious. To me anyway. My mother used to
watch Dallas on tv after she'd fed all her children, one hand in her
apron
as she watched tv. Only the hand always jumped in her pocket, she was
saying the rosary while she watched tv. Very Irish, very motherly. Very
normal, the standard I got used to. Countless mothers the world over do
the same. They may be Christians, they may be of a multitude
of
different Faiths, yet one thing in common. Love, love of God, love of
family, love of children . And do we thank our parents for this love? If
we didn't and now our parents our gone, then do we live with regret all
our lives . No, this would be folly. We can thank our parents and our
God by being good parents, by trying to copy the good example shown to
us . I met my wife in the retirement home where my dad lived after his
near fatal heart attack, which happened 8 bare weeks after my mother
died in her sleep. My dad lived long enough for me to meet/marry and
have a granddaughter. As I gaze on my daughter's face I often say "thank
you". Thank You to God for allowing me a wife and for having a
daughter. An extremely beautiful daughter, healthy and funny. I have to
show the moon to my daughter because she thinks its so pretty, she loves
stars too , not yet 22months old and
she
knows the wonder of creation . As I look upwards and see the cold
beauty of space I know how lucky I am. I know how lucky I am. Lucky
enough to cry, which I do on occasions. My tears are my humble thanks
and praise of God. I have a family. July 96, mom was gone 2 months, and
dad was now given 1 week to live. So after 3years of constant visits to
the seniors home I met my wife, my
Shanghai
China. So yes I cry in the dark of the night as I look up at the stars .
I am a lucky man, because I had good parents, I know I did . I hope
everybody could be as lucky as me .....
well I hope this reads ok , I couldn't think of any poetry , I just hope telling it plain catches the spirit
, the
spirit of love . One word, one look, one sigh, one flicker of the eyes,
each of these is a prayer, a deep prayer . A prayer of hope, pray, hope
and don't worry is a motto I try to live by that’s all the advice I can
give michael
50. Singing Songs
To
sing is to doubly praise, Saint Cecilia said that. My sister says it
too on occasion. Singing makes us all happy, it lightens the load, it
helps pass the time, if we are happy we'll whistle or hum or sing. Just
ask any workman, though workmen still like to whistle, or should I say
wolf whistle when they see a pretty girl. "Hello Darling" rings out from
high up an unfinished building, followed by laughter when the girl
turns around and the girl is in fact a boy with a girlish haircut.
But
I was talking about singing. My girls were singing "A sailor went to
sea, sea sea, to see what he could see see see." so obviously I jointed
in. My youngest was amazed that I knew it, so I told them that that
rhyme must be at least 50 years old. So on they sang, doing the hand
clapping that accompanies it. It took me back, where have all the years
gone, I really hope I can last till 100
then
I'd have more time with my girls and any grandchildren or even on great
great grandchild. But that's up to God, the girls Great Grandpa is
alive and kicking into his 90s, he's on his 3rd wife now having worn out
the 1st 2, Shanghai diet in a warm China may explain it.
Grandma
does sing Jesus songs with the girls over the Internet from Shanghai,
and my big daughter has just joined the choir at Saint Hilda's down road
from the woods. Google tells me Hilda was very wise and lived a
monastic life. My daughter did an audition and was let into the choir.
They even pay a small stipend. My own sister has been singing over 45
years, despite us telling her to shut up. Me and my brothers were altar
boys, none of us getting any reward for this church work. Perhaps we
should have stopped being Catholics and moonlighted for the Protestants.
I was also a reader for 7 years, so I
can remember passages from the Bible, as well as hearing them all my life these past 50 years.
Singing
songs is very very touching, a song will touch the heart and my sister
is right, to sing is to doubly praise. Songs at funerals which open the
floodgate, Angels by Robbie Williams is very popular now, it was played
at my cousin's funeral; songs at the last night of the Proms which make
you proud and happy. As I talk to you I listening to music, Hotel
California from the Eagles, 34 years ago that was out. I never guessed
I'd spend 3 years in an hotel. Hotels have music to kill the deadness of
an empty foyer/reception area, as do bars.
Songs
that you can sing too give a place a good vibe. Gay bars play lots of
Abba I'm told, again because its great happy music, it helps the fun on a
cold Tuesday evening. I'm listening to an old Elton John album now,
Made in England, its worth digging out, its from 1995. Classical music
and opera touch us too, even when we cannot understand a word.
Pavorotti, and that blind Italian singer Andrei Bocelli, both can touch
us. I remember in 1966 when the whole family went to Lourdes, we were
singing Ave Maria in the darkness, holding up our lighted candles,
perhaps 40,000 people singing in the dark. Now that is really touching
and uplifting. I suppose other Faiths do things their way which are no
doubt just as powerful.
As
you have all no doubt gathered through these blogs, I do like my music,
a pocket DAB is always close to me, in fact after 5 years its a bit
battered, so I have to save
up
for a replacement. When you're happy and you know it clap your hands,
is a song we sing when we are kids, we are all so free. We sing when we
are in the shower, we sing when we are in love.
Song is the Spirit that cannot be broken, we sing to babies in the crib, babies can hear before they are born,
its singing that creates love.
So sing, sing, sing. For we are alive
Well I hope you all enjoyed this. It’s a 50 piece selection of my writing that’ll I use to get a writing job.
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com is where my writing lives on a day to day basis.
You can also buy my 5 books on Amazon Kindle by just clicking on the link
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Thank You
Michael Casey
NOW the final 50 that make up Michael Casey’s Blogs 2011
51. Comedy from Birmingham The Butcher The Baker And The Undertaker
Leap Years Day 1988 introduced :-
The
Butcher, The Baker & The Undertaker (c) a comedy drama for
everybody set in Old Forge and Singing Anvil a perfect tv series or one
off drama depending on your
budget---------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------A novel , plays and humour
essays
all on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com Now how do I grab your
attention I was born in the shadow of Cape Hill Brewery , Smethwick ,
which is on the side of Birmingham. I ended up working for a market
research company into Alcohol Sales , and I was the shandy drinker . Any
alcohol and I was off my tree .
The
novel also on the site is called The Butcher , The Baker and The
Undertaker (c), very tongue in cheek , simultaneously on several levels .
An undertaker who becomes an election agent so a dodgy builder becomes a
member of Parliament in the constituency of Old Forge and Singing Anvil
, (my dad was a blacksmith from County Kerry Eire , yes
really).www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com The Butcher The Baker and The
Undertaker is a comedy drama about a street of shops in Old Forge and
Singing
Anvil in England . Here's a flavour Wayne buys a derelict pub and his wife is pregnant with twins , things could
not be worse , Mrs Murphy comes to the rescue with a loan
, and
2 sets of twins the builders work for nothing , God looks down and
helps too , Wayne discovers a hidden cellar underneath the cellar , its
full of 40year old whisky left over from the war WWII , the pub was
where the local black marketer left everything . Wayne and family are
saved .The Undertaker has a feud with the traffic warden for putting a
parking ticket on his hearse. On the way there' a Jazz funeral , a teddy
bear called Patrick , a dog called hairy Amjit who has a mind of his
own . The Undertaker’s sons leaves the business and Percy is at a loss ,
his son returns with a Prodigal Son plea for forgiveness , "Father
forgive me , I now know that computers are not for me , there is no love
in computers , but in our business there is love and compassion .The
Undertaker tries to blackmail a bent builder who is going to demolish
the street of shops where they all live . Peace is restored so the
Undertaker becomes the election agent for the builder and takes him on a
tour of all the rest homes , so that the builder
ends up getting into the Houses of Parliament . The dodgy
bookie Smiling Paul has a bet on the election and wins
1million pounds. The Undertaker is furious until her
hears that Smiling Paul had a road to Damascus experience
and gave away all the money to help save the Chinese
restaurant business of his Chinese friends . So Smiling
Paul becomes a man of honour , and gets a stunning
girlfriend on the way , because the Chinese must honour
him . The writing is funny and tongue in cheek , if some
readers
see it just as a ma and pa book then good , but if they step back they
will see that I'm gently poking fun at my characters . Such as Big Sid
the butcher who is like a year around Santa . Patrick the baker is
trying to have a love life but all the street knows his every move
. His mother is relieved when finally he meets the right girl , a virgin , who turns out to be the only daughter
of the man who saved the bakery many years before , to Patrick's mum its a miracle and the will of God .
I finish with a poem from Percy the Undertaker
The Dead and The Living (c)
by
Michael Casey
I
first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said not to
worry as the dead are the same as the living , only the laughter has
left them , the sparkle
has
gone from their eyes , the worry has been lifted from their shoulders ,
and their voice has vanished to eternity .In paradise the sparkle will
return for it is
the
twinkle of the stars , the laughter will return too for it is the
morning breeze and the turning tides are their sides shaking with
laughter .I treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the
living , though I find the deceased are always more polite . My father
also had a few words to say about the living .He said that the living
are only the caretakers of the soul , yet they think their existence is
everything , that they know everything because they experience many
things with their senses . What the living don't acknowledge is that
their time is short and when I lay their bodies to rest then their souls
continue without them , without their strong
, without their weak , without their beautiful or even ugly temporary form , to where I cannot say , only that
it is a better place .Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free THE BEGINNING
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
p.s.
I was vetted by a Chinese Ballet dancer from the Birmingham Royal
Ballet when I met my wife, my wife had met the Ballet dancer in the
church next door to my old Grammar school so with a life like this no
wonder I write comedy
52. Telephone Interviews
Telephone interviews are a new feature of the modern
world. With so many people chasing those jobs, it’s the
fastest way to sort the wheat from the chaff. There are
good and bad points to it. The interviewer can be sat on
the bed in a 4star hotel with a nice bottle of wine
gently breathing beside him as he asks questions over the
phone. As for the interviewee he can be in his dressing
gown with 5 days worth of stubble on his face, his hair
unwashed and uncombed, a hole in his slippers. Then
politely they talk about the skill set the interviewee
can
bring to the task, how much experience he has doing this and doing
that. The interviewer can ask the interviewee to hold the line as there
is another call coming in, and he does apologise. So the interviewee is
left on hold while the interviewer finishes his glass of wine and pours
himself another glass. The interviewee pastes his hair down with spit
even though he cannot be seen, but while on hold he will tidy himself up
a bit.
The
interviewer watches the sports headlines on Sky TV before having
another sip from his glass before resuming the interview. Questions
about experience and future career paths are posed and answered. The
interviewee
feels
confident and smiles at himself in the mirror. The interviewer loosens
his belt and lets his stomach out. The interview is concluded.
Mr
Unkempt gets through to the next round. This time he has to SSS which
means exactly what it says, SSS. He spends ages in the bathroom , more
than his sisters did when he used to live at home. He wears his best
shiny black shoes, only for the laces to snap, so then he has
to
hunt around to find a lace that matches his shoes. Only he cannot, so
he steals a navy one from a different pair of shoes. He looks in the
mirror to see if its noticeable, and it is, so he loosens his belt, so
his trousers hang lower so that they hide his shoes, only problem is
that with his fat belly his trousers might fall off completely. That
would certainly make an impression at the interview. If he was applying
for a farce actor’s position then it would be great, Brian Rix would be
impressed. The interviewer is a power dresser,
his
1000pound suit compared to the 49.99 one worn by the interviewee. And
yes the laces are noticed, immediately. Positive body language v
negative body language, neutral body language. Arms folded, arms open,
open legs with hands on top of knees. Licking of lips, eyes skyward,
eyes
averted, eyes straight and looking into the soul. The usual interview
so to speak. Then the waiting for a letter in the post, or an email for
fail. Happy Interviews everybody.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
53. As these tears fall
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.
54.The Light from a Candle ©
By Michael Casey
I
watched as the candle's life ended, smoke spiralled in the air. I tried
to see where the smoke was going only it just disappeared into
nothingness. Another candle came to an end, but suddenly it rared up a
final flicker of flame then it was gone, black smoke twirling into the
air. I strained to see where the smoke was going only it was no use. I'd
need a magnifying glass, binoculars, a microscope or a periscope, smoke
just could not be followed. Another candle went out again I strained to
see where its life had gone, but it was no use, the trail disappeared
into nothingness. The candles were going out randomly, I had to jump
from one to another in a vain attempt to see its moment of death, so
that I could observe what was happening to them. In all 7 maybe 8
candles "died" as I watched from my position sat next to the candle rack
in the cathedral on my lunch break. That was all yesterday, and today
the process was
repeated.
Each candle is a hope, a wish, a prayer. Just as Jazz music is music
turned into smoke, that weavers and sneaks its way through an audience, a
candle and its smoke is a living flame of hope and love which we all
hope
will touch God's spirit and let him hear our prayers. The smoke from a
candle is like a ballet dancer doing the most intricate of dances, its
like girl dancing with a ribbon at the Olympics. Only the candle and its
smoke might say more for us when we can't think of the right words to
say, God Help Us, can be all we can say, but if said from the heart then
it is enough, For Faith Moves Mountains.
And candles are more than flickers that end in smoke, they remind us of the Light and Warmth of God's Love.
55. Having A Heatwave in Birmingham England Having a Heat Wave
By Michael Casey
Well
the sun has shone on Birmingham, my wife took the kids to a fancy pool
with slides and so forth. I had said just go down the road, 200 yards to
the local swimming baths. The kids wanted slides so off she drove. Only
the Stourbridge centre was closed. So she soothed the kids with
magazines. I just laughed when they got back, the kids didn't want to
try the local baths as they now had something to read. So the back
garden was now the beach, a pink umbrella was now a sun shade, pink hats
were worn and sun tan cream was spread everywhere. The plastic kids
chairs were also dragged out into the garden, the bedspread from one of
the beds upstairs was also dragged into service. The fish radio would
also have been pressed into service only the batteries have fallen out.
As for
me
I went out shopping when the edge had gone off the heat. It was a DIY
Subway brought into the home, so we had wraps that we filled with
mayonnaise and ham and spicy stuff. Washed down with fizzy pop and
coffee. Ice cream and cones were ready in the fridge. We had a pudding
if that’s the right word of ice cold pineapple and its juice.
If
you've never had pineapple and its juice chilled right down, then do
try it. It was family affair then we settled down for Dr Who on tv, we
cannot decide on the new Dr Who, he just seems silly, we want him to be
great but he isn't.
A
kind neighbour knocked the door to tell us the car window was still
open, the kids had left it that way when they were out searching for a
pool. So at least the car will still be outside in the morning. My girls
are off to join a choir in the morning, so you can imagine what that'll
lead too. I can remember my sister singing and 45 years ago and more
"shut up" was how us Casey boys responded, she's still in that church
choir. So If I
reach
100 my own girls could be singing in the Warley Woods choir. So that's
our day today, tomorrow is Pentecost which is when the Holy Spirit came
to the disciples, its a kind of birthday, the birth day of the Church.
It was a beginning and Pentecost can be a beginning for each and
everyone of us, we don't have to speak in tongues or do miracles. Just
saying hello to somebody on the bus or in the street, a simple smile can
be a beginning, breaking down barriers with love.
56. this is a true story starting 14years ago Padre Pio and Me ©
By
Michael Casey
It’s
a contradiction in terms immediately , how can I copyright a Saint . A
brand new saint at that . I first heard of him through some Religious
reading I did . I feel embarrassed to admit it , but I am a practising
Catholic , its not fashionable to have any Faith but its mine so I admit
it . Immediately the prejudice begins , but if I WERE A Jew or a Muslim
, it would be the same . I do feel that my catholic tastes have given
me a broader outlook on life , as has my eclectic tastes and rubbing
shoulders with a wide variety of people .
But
I want to talk about Padre Pio . I had a crisis and was reading about
him at the time , so I said my prayers to him and the way forward was
revealed . Though Padre Pio always says go Higher , he is just a
stepping stone on the way to a better place . What is so hard to
understand about Padre Pio is how he suffered . He had the slings and
arrows of outrageous fortune . Condemned by his own superiors , made to
be quiet for a decade and so forth . Science Fiction teaches or rather
amuses us
about
Time Travel , but with Padre Pio it really happened , he wanted to
share in Christ’s agony so he thought , what if he too could have and
suffer the wounds on that day of Crucifixion . So it came to pass that
he suffered for 50years . He had the indignity of medical examinations
and of being thought just to be a mental patient , but his work and life
proved his holiness .
So
it’s nearly 1990 and I hear about him and read a few books , its hard
to understand the value of suffering in this age of quick fix pain
killers and the lets have a
fix
, whatever the fix might be , sex, drugs and rock and roll or whatever .
Its like suddenly studying again after years of lying fallow , the
learning curve is enormous .
So
too is it with Padre Pio , the idea behind his life is enormous , but
so too is the capacity for love and help . My favourite story is how
Padre Pio explains that The Wedding Feast at Cana happened because Jesus
could not refuse his mother . Very Italian , or Irish or Spanish
and so on , but could any of us refuse our mothers? So I thought more about what Padre Pio said , and his
motto
of Pray Hope Don’t Worry became my own . Carpe Diem is another good
motto but perhaps this can be used by any Hedonist , or other kind of
selfish person .Padre Pio
reminds
us to pray and that pray is not wasted , its perfume that is never
wasted is a phrase I like . My mother always used to say that if you
couldn’t sleep you should say the Rosary , and she was right . Though in
today’s world an hour on the Internet or with MTV might do the trick .
So
why the devotion to Padre Pio , I’ll cut to the chase. My mother died
suddenly but peacefully in her sleep , my brother tried CPR , but she
was gone . Imagine the anguish amongst her 6 children and her husband of
nearly 50 years . All except me , my mother had said no tears when she
go ,so I never cried , I was the odd one out .I know how prayerful she
was , so I had no need of tears . Eight bare weeks later my brother ,
the same brother heard our dad fall out of bed , so he ran to his
bedroom
.
My brother was facing the exact same situation , he tried CPR , the
ambulance was called , an injection was given straight to the heart . On
weekends there is a doctor in the ambulance , so Luck , if that’s the
word was with us . The next day 4 of my brothers and sisters came around
to tell me the news . When my sister had come around 8 weeks previously
I knew somebody was dead but I assumed it was my dad , he’s die first
we all thought .
So now 8 weeks later it was his turn to die .
At the hospital dad was given 1 week to live , I cried
like a baby , worse than a baby , but I loved him , so I
told he he should go to our mother and not hang on if he
didn’t want to . The next day I was in my sister’s house
crying , we picked hymns for his funeral .Yet my father
survived , 19 patients on a heart ward , 18 died my dad
survived . Padre Pio was besieged by my prayers , I put
Padre Pio’s photo under his pillow . Dad lost his mind ,
he was in Dudley Rd for 3months , 12 weeks , more than
half of them all tubed up . His life hanging in the
balance . At the same time somewhere in Florida another
man was at deaths door , he was a totally stranger to me
, I
didn’t even know his name , I’d never met him , he was give 24hours to
live , a Chinese man from Shanghai was at deaths door . The Chinaman
survived .My dad’s memory was totally wiped , he did not know who I was,
I’m your son was greeted with , am I married . I was the favourite son ,
he did not even know me . But still we prayed , it’s a feeling in your
guts , just like when you
are
nearly killed as you cross the road , its in your guts and in your
heart , Jesus save my dad , Jesus save my dad , Padre Pio help !!! This
goes around your head
like
a merry go around or a kaleidoscope . Finally dad awoke . He said that
he can remember hearing the doctor say to wheel him down to the end of
the ward , because he’d be dead soon . At that moment my dad awoke, and
the doctor dropped his cup of tea in shock . No not an instantaneous
miracle , but as Dr Singh had said if he were 30years younger he’d have a
heart transplant because dad’s heart was rubbish .
Now
, when I told my brother that dad was reading a newspaper he was
shocked . His memory had come back . He knew who we all were .Every day
for three months I walked the corridor at Dudley Rd , the longest
hospital corridor
in
Europe , 1 kilometre long . Finally he left the hospital , my sister
had found a good home for him to live in , he was far too weak to live
in the family house .
For
3 years dad survived , like a Godfather with all his children making
constant visits . Finally I met my future wife . It was her uncle who
had miraculously survived at the same time as my father . It was her
uncle who encouraged us in our love . From Shanghai to Birmingham
.These great men , her uncle and my father never met , but I know Padre Pio must have helped both of them .
Further
prayer was needed to bring me and my wife permanently together . A
Chinese miracle happened . Now we are wed , we have a 2year old and
please God a healthy second baby in the Autumn . The improbability of
our meeting , plus the fact that both men HAD to live for us to be
married and have a family , this may be a coincidence to some but I know
a miracle when I see one. A miracle is something that makes you feel
humble , it makes you know that God has whispered your name . When I
look at my wife , I feel humble . Seeing our daughter
laugh
and play also makes me humble as will our new baby. Then you can look
back and know that prayer is like perfume that can never be wasted ,
your life has led you to where you are now , yes at times sad and
terrible ,
but be humble in the sight of God means something , not just for me , but for all Believers .
I
once stood by the fridge and said to Padre Pio , I give up , you take
over , all I want is to be married , and perhaps have a family , and do
something useful with my life . That was just before my eyes were opened
to my wife . I used to say that I got 2 out of my 3 wishes . Perhaps my
current occupation is my 3rd wish , or a more outstanding miracle is
waiting in the wings , but as
Padre
Pio said ,always ask for the big Grace .Perhaps we have to be humble
enough to deserve it , because I believe it to be a fact that , truly
great people are humble because they know just how little they really
know.
57.The watch and me
I
suppose my love affair with the watch started when I was just a child
now 30 years on the passion is still there . I remember lifting up my
dad's shirt sleeve to look at the watch on his wrist , watching the
second hand sweep around and asking what time was it , not that I really
understood the concept of time , I knew midnight was always dark , that
was about it really . Oh apart from some special time called "opening
time" and "closing time" , our lodgers would pay their rent at the back
door before rushing off to the pub , it was a mystery to me .
A cousin of ours was to be ordained a priest in Dublin , so dad and
2
of my brothers went off to Dublin for the ceremony . I remember Tony
coming back with a watch on his wrist , it had a black strap and had a
small face , then at the bottom was separate dial with a second hand on
it , we all thought it was very posh . So being children we now used
this dial to see how long we could hold our breath , we'd take a deep
breath and pump up our cheeks then Tony waved his hands and we'd start
our endurance test . Only stopping when we fell over our faces brilliant
red and our eyes bulging . I remember Tony seemed to win this game
always , not because he cheated but because he loved under water
swimming so had mastered holding his breath . Then we had a contest to
run down the yard past the hedge to the bottom of the garden and touch
the fence and
come
back and touch the wall of the house , we were all young and mad then
but such simple fun was all because we had a watch with a second hand .
Jim was our lodger for 20years , when he'd been with us for 11 years
I
badgered him for a present , for a watch . if I passed the 11 plus
exam. Finally he gave in and gave me his own 2nd best watch , in fact I
got it before I even sat the exam . So the watch Jim gave me was my
first watch ever . The trouble with leather watch straps is that they
dig into your flesh , so you loosen the strap but then the watch dangles
, so I compromised by using stretch straps , then you can slide a
stretch strap all the way up your arm , until it feels comfortable . I
also always liked mechanical watches , it was a night time ritual ,
taking my watch off and winding it up , setting the time against the
chimes of Big Ben on the radio . So you can see just how important a
watch is to me . There is just one thing I've forgotten to mention ,
watches always break . Well when I wear them anyway . For the past 20
years as a computer operator I'm always carrying something and banging
my watch on doors or whatever . So they break , leaving my watch in the
bathroom while I take a bath was another of my bad habits . Watches
steam up on me , or the winder gets rusty and breaks off , or I break
the glass , or the glass falls out . Once the
glass fell out , so I glued it back again , only to make a mess of the job
and glue the hands of the watch together as well . Finally I decided to
get a quartz watch , they were accurate , only my sweaty wrist steamed up
the face constantly , so I couldn't read the time . On average a watch
lasts me 1 year , my sister Mary always laughs every time I show her my
latest new watch . A simple Lorex watch was the best one I ever had , its
lasted 5 years . However I must confess that it has only lasted me that
long
because when dad was in hospital after mum had died and he had nearly
died too he wanted a watch so he could pass the time , by looking at the
watch , so he'd know when his next meal was , the fact that there was a
clock on the wall not 2 yards away did not matter . Of course I took
the watch off my wrist and gave it to him . he was my dad and I loved
him , so
if
a watch would please him , he could have mine . That was 4 years ago ,
dad is called the miracle man , by the doctors , he beat death , dad's
time was up and the grim reaper made an appearance twice , but dad is
still alive and kicking , my watch ticking on his wrist . Or so it was
until
last month . Jie Jie my Chinese wife bought me a fancy watch for my
Birthday so I gave dad my watch , a fancy Esprit model , and I retired
the old one , but I have kept it as a souvenir , we all thought dad
would die in weeks , but his heart is still ticking as strong and
reliable as a
Rolex
watch . I think when we all die , if we are not worthy of Paradise
immediately God will issue us with a Rolex and we have to wear it for a
billion years , until we are worthy of Paradise . God's watch is the
turning tides , the movement of the stars across the heavens and
rumbling super novas , after all didn't time begin with creation . It is
us stupid mankind who try to limit it to a dial on a watch .
58. As I look out my window
I
look out my window the breeze gently rocks the rose bush in my front
garden. Loony Chick the teddy bear or should I say the teddy chick big
and bright yellow sits in the front window. He or is it she, came all
the way from Shanghai last Summer now Loony Chick sits in the window of
our Birmingham home. But at least Loony Chick can still hear some
Chinese every day and still smell Chinese food. So Life is normal for
him or is it her? So what is normal? Having your own bed to sleep in and
not some hotel far far away, not grandma's house in Shanghai, not an
uncles house in Shanghai. Just normal, ordinary Birmingham. The clouds
are so bright, the white white candy floss with all its funny shapes.
The grey clouds
are trying to group together to form rain clouds and then in the middle is the blue blue sky. This is Nature and is
a
Free Show, just as the breeze can be like a kiss on the cheek, the
flowers beginning to bloom, the buds on the buds on my neighbours apple
tree next door, the golden chain at the bottom of my own garden.
Transplanted 20 years ago and more from my own mum's garden. The
technicolour green grass in the garden, the bluebells in the flower bed
and a few stray ones in the lawn itself.
Grandpa's flower too, as we call one lone tulip which
holds
such memories for us. There are a few weeds too and some wild shamrock
that survived this harsh Winter just gone, scattered chalks in the yard,
or should I say
patio,
which has drawings all over it, thanks to my artistic girls. Then there
is the view of the washing line with small small clothes on it, until
you see my "flags" giant items blowing in the wind, my clothes are so
big compared to my girls things. When I was in Shanghai the 1st time,
now over 10years ago, we could locate Ma's house by my flags hanging
from bamboo poles from the window ledge 4 stories up.
And
the point of all my musings? Today everybody wants to talk about the
new PM and the New Politics, and there will be much noise made. So
instead of worrying about that, why not just sit sit back and have a
nice cup of coffee and a Cadburys Crunchy Bar too. Look outside in the
garden and see the bumble bees bumbling, see the magpies dance about,
they may even steal your Crunchy Bar wrapper. Watch the clouds amble
through the sky, listen to that ticking clock on the shelf besides the
hugh Chinese/English dictionary, bound in red of course. The Tick Tock
is soothing compared to the whine of the PC
processor
at my feet, I can hear the back door close as my wife brings in the
washing. All these are ordinary things BUT usually they go unobserved,
take time out, if I dare mention a rival chocolate bar, take time out
just to enjoy life. None of this costs any money nor takes any effort,
BUT will be good for your Spirit, failing that
just reach for the Johnny Walker Red Label, or in my case the Dr Pepper.
59. Image Imagination Ignorance
I
did a quick google of "michaelgcasey" to see who was looking me up.
Then I clicked on Image to see the snaps of myself. This morning loads
of snaps appeared. This proves several things, my vanity, and who in the
whole wide world is clicking on "michaelgcasey" to check me out. There
are family snaps plus ones of me in a suit, or me in an Australian rugby
shirt holding up the self published version of my book. As you all know
I still want a REAL publisher and me holding up the book in a real book
store. That's the image I'd really like to see.
As
you all also know anybody who has clicked on my stuff or posted stuff
in a comment then their connection appears in a Google search. So their
image is tied to my image, even if really they have no connection to me
at all. Its like a stranger standing in at a wedding photo just for the
fun of it. Wedding crashers is the name of the game. This actually
happened at one wedding I attended.
My
main theme though is Image. At a Wedding we all tend to wear our best
suits and polish those black shoes that have been gathering dust at the
back of the closet. We make an effort so to please our mum, our friends,
our ex
lover, boyfriend, girlfriend and so on. We spend 20K or
30K in USD, all so that we look good on the Wedding
photos, we have a day to remember. Personally I say its
the Marriage that Matters, not the Wedding Day. You can
read from the Bible and as you read you wonder, how long
will this Marriage last. Everybody looks so good, and
they have chosen the best caterers, the cake was made by
Aunt Ann and she does it for a living, we saved so much
you know. All this is Image. You could have bought a
brand new car instead, but the Day in King, So even
though we can't afford it, we will have our day so that
someday in the future somebody somewhere can google and
find us all dressed to the nines on our wedding day. Me I
just
bought a new car, I won't even bore you with why. I'll let you all use
your imagination. How many different guesses will you all have?
In
Shanghai and the East they do a photo shoot with various costumes
including the traditional white wedding dress, then they hand out credit
card sized photos of the loving couple. The book is as big as a
shopping catalogue with photos printed on very very thick paper. It’s a
nice souvenir, a nice Image.
What of our own individual image. Don't take a photo my
hair's
a mess, say wives and girlfriends and perhaps some TV reporters, male
and female. Let me comb my hair first. Tuck in your shirt, wipe the
pizza from your face. Change your clothes, and the list goes on.
Politicians dress up
or
dress down, Royalty over here do the same. Why? For the sake of image.
Before I change water into wine, I'll just change my tunic... Sorry I
cannot kiss him, he hasn't changed, he needs a shave, he smells. What if
it was your dad lying there, dying there? I've been down that road. A
kiss, a touch is PRICELESS, never let ignorance and image get in the way
of love.
60. This is Me This is You
This is me, that's what all these blogs are. Though
I'd prefer you'd read the attachments, they are longer
and
have more depth to them. I'd also hope you'd read the 500page novel The
Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. Or maybe my play Shoplife.
Though there is more to me and to you than that. I took
my watch off last night and it set me thinking. Our
possessions define us, what we own shows what kind of
person we are. My current watch is a cheap Russian one,
but it’s an automatic one. I've fallen in love with
automatic watches these past 7 years since my Chinese dad
sent one to me. I also like paintings, real ones because
there was an Italian art gallery near my house, if I look
out my window I can see it, the artist is still there but
he's
moved on, now he does photos printed on canvas, his son's face beams
out from the shop window. I also like Kebabs but I hardly eat them at
all now. But I still love fizzy pop, 100 times more than I like beer. So
does this make me a big kid? Or should I be all grown up and tell lies
and pretend to be this and pretend to be that? I
also love music, for years I saw bands in an upper room, a very smoke filled upper room. As well as listening to
lots
of music on the radio and buying CDs. Now I've moved on, I've
downloaded my CDs to my PC so while I'm writing I can listen to my
favourite groups.
So
there you have it, a picture of me. If you heard this on the radio
instead of reading it here would you like what you hear? Or the more of
the picture you get do you hate it more and more? Its like the Election
2010 the more we hear from the different politicians the less or more we
hate them. But what about you? What would you reveal, what would you
hide.? It’s like the makeup a woman puts on. If its done right it
highlights her best features, but if its done wrong, it can be as bad as
a
child putting its mom's makeup on. Its your tone of voice
which has to connect with or sooth the listener. Just as
a mum sooths a sick child, or just as a dad scolds a
naught child. Warmth can be heard in a voice, anger and
violence can be heard in a voice, a voice can be as bad
as chalk screeching on a blackboard. That’s why songs and
music is so sweet because instantly it connects with our
souls. If I'm very lucky it takes 20seconds for my words
to reach your heart, music is so fast and so powerful,
that’s why I admire and am jealous of music makers.
This is Me and This is You, you are the reader I hope you
like
what I write, I DO write so that people hear my voice, I'm not clever
enough to write long literary passages. I hope I write as the average
reader would write if they had the time to do so. Somebody was very kind
the other day and she said she liked my stuff. So I can say that a
little encouragement does go a long way. So when your son or daughter
won't put the light out because they have not quite finished their
diary, just be patience, just as you have been with me.
61. May
time of Spring flowers and Bitter sweet memories May is a month full of
memories. Tomorrow my wife is 33, so its happy birthday to her.
Next Friday , one week after her Birthday its the 10th anniversary since my mum died
2 months
after that ,my dad died, my brother did CPR and saved him long enough
for the doctor to come injection straight to the heart. Dad had died ,
but was revived. He was given a week to live. I sat in my sisters house a
few hundred yards from mine and we picked hymns for dads funeral.
But he came back, read Padre Pio and Me for details www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Later
in May just 2 years ago my wife's dad was killed in an accident in
Shanghai. I rushed home from the hotel, my eyes full of tears. Only he
agreed with me and said I'd been right to send JJ back to China with he
message to tell her parents all my bad points. Now still young he was
dead. He died a few days before his granddaughter's 3rd birthday, his
2nd granddaughter was still only 7 months old.
Two deaths and 2 Birthdays that’s what May brings. Every May brings the promise of Spring and Happiness that
Birthdays bring. But it is balanced by 2 deaths. Death of a mum for me, and death of a dad for my wife.
Eternal
balance and equilibrium .I remember my mum standing by the fridge in
her blue and white smock, that was the last time I saw her, apart from
in her coffin when I kissed her ice cold cheek. So much warmth now it
was all gone. My sister went back to her house one day a few weeks after
the funeral. There were flowers growing everywhere, white daisies
growing everywhere. Our mum had sneaked up to my sister’s house on the
82 bus, then she'd planted seeds. Their scent was her memorial. Always
loving her children, her 6 children, now the flowers were her smile goodbye.
I
had put my wife on the first flight to Shanghai, I rung the hotel and
said I'd be back in 2 weeks, I was left holding the babies, while my
wife dashed off. Her dad was not quite dead when she arrived in
Shanghai, he was on support and still warm, JJ had time to kiss him
goodbye. Then she had to arrange the funeral.
Now
I wear my Chinese dad's best watch on my wrist, I have always loved
watches , now I have a good one , all because somebody had died. May is a
time of celebration in China and the East , the Spring Festival and so
forth.
For me May reminds me of my blessings, a mom who gave me such a deep Faith, as deep as I need it, and we all know
that
can be very deep indeed especially in time of need. My dad survived
because of a miracle and I am not abusing the word. My prayers were
heard and now I have 2 daughters too when then I had no clue what the
future would do.
May
moves me and I hope it moves you all, none of us can predict the
future, no matter how hard we try but I know my ma and a are looking
down from up there in the sky.
62. Library Books
Over 40 years ago one Summer my brother needed to go to the library, so he took all of us in toe. The library is
a
fine old building from the Victorian age when it was thought you could
educate the working class masses. You can google and find out more for
yourself, or maybe there is an old English history book in your own
local library. Anyways we got to the library and it was shut, so my
brother said "at least you've seen the library." It was a hot summer's
day and we had all just walked 2 miles and it would be 2 miles back. I
can remember there was a little sweet shop right next door, but I don't
remember if we had any money for sweets on that occasion. It was
before the tower blocks were built at Spring Hill, this
was around the time that old houses were demolished and
the brand new idea of tower blocks was invented. It makes
me realise just how much the passage of time has passed.
I'm like Bill Clinton now in that speech he gave, "I have
seen more Summers than I will see." I've reached part two
of
my life, the part that leads to the end. Personally I feel my Life has
not yet begun, does this make me a child or am I in denial? I still have
dreams and you all know what they all, they are attached to my blogs.
Back to the
library,
we have one at the bottom of my street, so we're getting our girls to
use it. No need to walk to the Victorian one, which still stands, and
they even diverted a new road to save the old library and now its a
listed building, and still opens occasionally. So instead we walk to the
bottom of our street, and to the right is the library, I think it was
built in the 30s. Inside I get my girls to browse and pick up as many
books as they can. Nowadays you are allowed to borrow 12 books at a
time, when I was using a library it used to be four. I read
Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes books when I was 12 or so, I never
became a detective, I was just hiding from Mr Gallagher and his hit
slipper, that started at the age of 8 and changed my life for the
better. Corporal punishment hurts the butt but focuses the mind. Once
bitten twice shy so to speak. I ended up as Head Boy too. And all
because of not knowing my times tables, but I was never hit again, I
made sure of that, There was the class library on the bookshelves
besides me so I practically read everything, literally everything,
mainly History. When I left Primary school I was given The Outline Of
History by H.G.Wells by the headmaster. It sits on the bookshelf to my
right, next to an enormous
Chinese/English dictionary and a bigger English
dictionary, and a little fairy next to a photo of my
girls with just enough room for a clock, I do love a nice
clock, and watch for that matter. Back to the library at
the end of the road my girls browse and my smallest one
chooses a few books with bears inside, anything remotely
like Pooh Bear always interests her. She finally settles
for 10 books and her big sister has five. Its still the
Easter holidays so I want to keep their minds occupied. A
bit of reading and then TV and cartoons, all things Roal
Dahl on tv are always a bit hit. As we leave the library
"Daddy when will your books be in the library." "Whenever
I
find a publisher." is my reply full of hope. We cross over the road so
they can look at comics in the store, then its off home, later after
they have done some reading there will be reward while we do some
shopping. I can still remember my mother teaching me to read by looking
at the Phantom cartoon in the local newspaper, more than 45 years ago.
Now my big daughter as I call her is on Library books and she's away, my
little daughter who calls herself the cutest while her big sister is
the prettiest she just needs a bit of encouragement and then she too
will be flying. My little daughter says she wants
to
be a doctor, she has a plastic stethoscope already, so only time will
tell. I tell both of them to try and remember everything so they can in
turn tell their own kids. My big daughter wants to be a designer so if
she's a designer and her sister is a doctor then I'd be so proud. Us, we
the Parents are stepping stones for our children to stand on, our
shoulders are there so they can stand on them, and books are food to
feed their appetite.
63. If I were a Rich Man, though I'd settle for being able to Sing Like Topol
I
wanted to write a piece to celebrate Halloween, Christopher Lee the
great Dracula actor got Knighted today, was the spurr. However this time
of year brings back a few memories to me. 1977 was a turning point in
my Life. 1986 another turning point and 1999 a 3rd turning point. Why
Autumn should be such a turning point I'll never know. The Love my
father had for all of us stands out amongst these anniversaries.
November was his Birthday as well, his last Birthday was his 80th, we
had a gathering
at
my sister's house, he held his granddaughter in his arms, he'd beaten
Death and had 5.5 years of extra time. When I bought my house his advice
was "Michael, buy that house" So I did. The dog had actually found the
house,
he had cocked his leg and christened the gate post, and it was only then that I saw the for sale sign.
Now
I dream of a bigger house for my girls, so that they can have a room to
do art in, even if it is the garage. My youngest even has dreams about
us living in a big white house, the one on the school run, and that we
have a dog and a cat. I'd just love to have a bigger house closer to the
park and the woods. That's been a dream of
mine
for 30 years at least, so I suppose I have brain washed my girls.
Though I do miss the days when at the family home we did have a cat and a
dog. One of the dogs even went to the seaside with us, even attending
Mass, and delighting a blind boy by licking him all over when he bumped
into him on the beach.
I
do sing If I were a Rich Man, from time to time, and then break down in
pretend tears, saying why do I have girls, 3 girls, if you include the
wife. They laugh as I
do
all the actions and become a Birmingham version of Topol, though the
Jazz improvisations are all mine. Though I might add that my local
priest does look like Topol and sing as well too, Life does imitate Art
after all. When finally it is time for bed and I get my girls
to
say their prayers, they add " and please Jesus can we have a big white
house and a cat and a dog called SubWay" Direct and to the point, but
Padre Pio used to say always ask for the big grace, so if you all excuse
me for
tonight,
I just have to say my prayers before I go to bed, I was thinking about
asking for a cat, and a dog called Subway just for the kids and maybe a
big white house for us to share with the animals. It is Autumn
after all and big things always happen in Autumn or should I say the Fall
64.Telephone Interviews
Telephone interviews are a new feature of the modern
world. With so many people chasing those jobs, it’s the
fastest way to sort the wheat from the chaff. There are
good and bad points to it. The interviewer can be sat on
the bed in a 4star hotel with a nice bottle of wine
gently breathing beside him as he asks questions over the
phone. As for the interviewee he can be in his dressing
gown with 5 days worth of stubble on his face, his hair
unwashed and uncombed, a hole in his slippers. Then
politely they talk about the skill set the interviewee
can
bring to the task, how much experience he has doing this and doing
that. The interviewer can ask the interviewee to hold the line as there
is another call coming in, and he does apologise. So the interviewee is
left on hold while the interviewer finishes his glass of wine and pours
himself another glass. The interviewee pastes his hair down with spit
even though he cannot be seen, but while on hold he will tidy himself up
a bit.
The
interviewer watches the sports headlines on Sky TV before having
another sip from his glass before resuming the interview. Questions
about experience and future career paths are posed and answered. The
interviewee
feels
confident and smiles at himself in the mirror. The interviewer loosens
his belt and lets his stomach out. The interview is concluded.
Mr
Unkempt gets through to the next round. This time he has to SSS which
means exactly what it says, SSS. He spends ages in the bathroom , more
than his sisters did when he used to live at home. He wears his best
shiny black shoes, only for the laces to snap, so then he has
to
hunt around to find a lace that matches his shoes. Only he cannot, so
he steals a navy one from a different pair of shoes. He looks in the
mirror to see if its noticeable, and it is, so he loosens his belt, so
his trousers hang lower so that they hide his shoes, only problem is
that with his fat belly his trousers might fall off completely. That
would certainly make an impression at the interview. If he was applying
for a farce actor’s position then it would be great, Brian Rix would be
impressed. The interviewer is a power dresser,
his
1000pound suit compared to the 49.99 one worn by the interviewee. And
yes the laces are noticed, immediately. Positive body language v
negative body language, neutral body language. Arms folded, arms open,
open legs with hands on top of knees. Licking of lips, eyes skyward,
eyes
averted, eyes straight and looking into the soul. The usual interview
so to speak. Then the waiting for a letter in the post, or an email for
fail. Happy Interviews everybody.
65. Let
them eat cake or how the wife tried to poison me My wife loves cake.
She always brings home some really nice cake and if I'm lucky I get the
crumbs, and I mean crumbs. But we end up laughing so that's fine, the
kids love cake too. So I'll see the wrapper and be told that
it
was the kids fault and there was none left. I'm too big already I'm
told, so I get none. You can get some really nice cake in Sainsbury's or
you can get some cake and coffee in Druckers ‘cafe in the city centre
by House of Fraser. My mum used to buy glazed ring donuts when I was a
child, somehow I always ended up with 2 or sometimes 3. That's a long
time ago now. As for the wife and her cake, she loves eating it and
there is Chinese cake which is different to western cake. So the wife
decided to make cake and I was the crash test dummy so to speak. The
first attempt was ok but the filling was not totally baked. I still ate
it anyway. The crust was a
little
burnt too, but didn't King Alfred burn the cakes too, so she is in very
good company. Next she contacted the good and the great in the Chinese
community, even the Dr wife of the Dr who had given me acupuncture last
week. No it wasn't a medical problem, just what was the methodology for
making the best cakes. Chinese people are
totally
focused on anything they do, whether its science, industry, building
Shanghai, or as I've discovered making cakes. There is good news though,
the one think Chinese people are bad at, is, drinking beer. They fall
over after just a few pints. So my wife armed with fresh insight and the
correct gas setting for the oven tried again. The second attempt was
even better, I was scolded for eating all her hard work. She even left a
trail of
flour
dust all over the computer after she'd checked a Chines site which had a
cookery section. Today she was practicing making beef, so obviously I
had to try it, and it was very good. The 3rd attempt at baking was also
today. And it was perfection, her Chemist training no doubt had helped,
even if she joked she was a Chemist and she could kill me if she wanted.
The cakes were good and I reluctantly had to leave some for the kids
for when
they got home from school. Tomorrow another lot of baking
will happen .I will pretend to be a porcupine as I have
more acupuncture while downstairs my wife will be dressed
in her bright red cook's bib with the Korean writing on
as she cooks. Masterchef in our house.
66. Me and my Radio
I remember my first radio, it was a small blue plastic
tranny. I can remember when we heard the news on it that
RFK had been assassinated. I remember the white plastic
family tranny we had. I remember the old Bush radio with
the saucer dial, that is now called retro. Having that
radio given to us by Frank Brown a lodger of ours changed
my life. We used to listed to the world tonight with
Douglas Stewart reporting followed by the book at bed
time. I can remember listening to The Ghost and Mrs Muir,
only I fell asleep so my brother had to tell me what
happened. I always had a radio beside me, it was my
company when me brother left home, company while I did my
homework and studied for my O Levels. Listen to Radio 4
constantly
for 20 years. Perhaps hearing 3 plays a week for all those years,
enjoying words, enjoying knowledge and news. When I heard about DAB I
just had to have one, though they do eat batteries big time. I even
bought an adapter so I can hear DAB through my HiFi. Real radio was my
favourite until it disappeared, stations with Music and less prattle and
talking over songs were my joy of DAB. I even bought a personal DAB
radio as a Birthday present to myself 5 years ago. My Ferguson is still
going
strong,
though my daughter has stolen it these Easter holidays and wants one of
her own, even though she has a Blick DAB in her bedroom. Yes I am in
love with radio, and if anybody wants to give me their DABs because
their love affair is over then just send them along. AND if there are
any fancy Pure personal dabs to be had I'd love them too, that way all
my family could have one and I wouldn't have to hide my personal Dabs
from my two girls. Radio can change a life and radio really is company,
in some ways it has been a best friend to me, 40 years a friend and I
hope 40 more years of friendship, though I'd rather hear my own plays on
the radio. I can spot a radio 4 play at 100 yards now........
67. How do you blog?
How
do YOU blog? And perhaps more importantly, Why do you blog? I was
thinking about my next blog here when I thought instead of writing about
today's events I write about how I get to write about today's and any
day's events. Me, I've started writing back in 1987, I kind of stumbled
into it like I've done most things in my life.
It
did take my 1 year to learn, learn the hard way to write. I hope that
I'm a better writer because of this. Little stories gave way into an
attempt to write a book. Sat in front of the gas fire, on an old barn
chair with the back cut off I perched a typewriter on a stool and away I
went. I ended up with a 235 page novel which I then called "A Nation Of
Shopkeepers", which was Napoleon's contemptuous phrase for the English.
Until Wellington cut him down to size. A few years later I decided I
wanted more that just one typescript of my "masterpiece" so I bought an
Atari 520 and started Copy typing it all out, so then I'd have it on a
computer and I could make multiple copies. I should add that the novel
doubled in size and I renamed it The Butcher The Baker and The
Undertaker, I still have those multiple copies scattered around my
house, just in case of fire or
theft.
10 years ago when I met my Shanghai rose we had to invest in a proper
computer and Internet so my wife could talk to her mum in Shanghai. As
for me it was a chance to have a website so that my babies were safe in
cyberspace. It also gave me a chance to blog. Now IF you compare one of
my essays, attached to these blogs, then you can see there is a
difference in style. I hope my blogs read as
if
its a bedtime story, your nan or grandpa is sitting in the chair beside
you and he's recounting a funny story that makes you feel secure and
happy and lets you drift off to sleep. For me its writing practice, if
you don't practice then you forget how to do it. It’s also a short form
of writing that takes no more than an hour or much less, but it gives
you a chance to "preach" to the rest
of
the world. You can also make friends. I used to practice my writing on
positive thoughts.com and there were lots of nice folks there, one post
got 800 views. The forum has now closed that's why I annoy people on
this site instead. But back to my theme, why do we all blog, well its so
we can all say "hey listen to me " , "I'm just as good as you",
ultimately we have our own tv/radio station via our blogs. Or perhaps I
should say Newspaper, it’s a chance to share, to boast, to grow
together even, to laugh together too. I must say there
are some good jokes that do the rounds and I do like
them, not to forget the poems and thoughts that are
shared. I was once in a bar in County Kerry and the pub
was owned by an Irish writer, his book The Field was
made into a film with Richard Harris. His niece told me
that he wrote because it was "in him". What does that
mean? I think I understand because the stories that are
"in me" just have to come out. Even if you stop writing
and its only as you are picking up litter around the
4star hotel car park that that ideas come back to you,
then you can begin to understand what "in me" means. Just
as musicians have the music in them, so words are in me
and in you all as you blog here and now on this Multiply
site.
Do you wait for all the story to be ready in your head or do you just
start with an idea and wait for the Muse to take you where it wants to
go. I enjoy going with the flow, it’s like closing your eyes when you
are on a
long journey and when you open your eyes you have arrived at some place totally different, like crossing a border
in
the night. While I blog my big daughter sometimes sneaks downstairs so
she can watch and read as I write something. Or when I finish a new blog
I get her to have
a
read to see if it makes her laugh or whatever. All I can say is that to
blog is to share, folks may never bother to open an attachment but at
least for the course of the blog I have an audience, even if it could
only be an audience of one, and that's my daughter.
68. Various Poems for you all
Some Poetry for you all. Normally I write comedy
Let There Be Light ©
By Michael Casey
Let my tears be my words
Let the candle light be my eyes
Let the flowers in bloom be my lips
Let their scent be my blood
Let the wind be my breath
Let clouds be my mood
Let children’s laughter be my hope
Let widows’ sighs be my conscience
Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight
Let the bees be my wisdom
Let the trees be my strength
Let my patience reach to the stars
Let me be always remembered in your prayers
This next poem is from my novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker which is a comedy/drama
Percy
is a Poet who happens to be an Undertaker. He has a fight with a
builder and the builder runs for Parliament and wins because Percy takes
him on a tour of the rest homes. Now read a poem from Percy
The Dead and The Living (c)
by
Michael Casey
I
first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said not to
worry as the dead are the same as the living , only the laughter has
left them , the sparkle has gone from their eyes , the worry has been
lifted from their shoulders , and their voice has vanished to eternity .
In paradise the sparkle will return for it is the twinkle of the
stars , the laughter will return too for it is the morning breeze and the turning tides are their sides shaking with laughter .
I
treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the living ,
though I find the deceased are always more polite . My father also had a
few words to say about the living .
He
said that the living are only the caretakers of the soul , yet they
think their existence is everything , that they know everything because
they experience many things with their senses .
What
the living don't acknowledge is that their time is short and when I lay
their bodies to rest then their souls continue without them , without
their strong , without their weak , without their beautiful or even ugly
temporary form , to where I cannot say , only that it is a better place
.
Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free THE BEGINNING
Michael G Casey email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com This third poem is a Love poem
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
That's all the poems I can share at the moment.
69.
Crawling Like a Worm in The Dirt, humbled by a photo copier.
by Michael Casey
This is one piece from essay/blog postings, I type fast so excuse any mistakes.
Well
this is my 100th post, I had hoped I could think up something nice or
even spectacular. This is what I've come up with. I'm laughing now as I
type. Yesterday 5minutes after I started work I bent down to fill up the
copiers. I filled one, then another, then I did a third.
I
then screamed, I had straightened up too fast and had ricked/strained
my back on the right hand side. So these past 27hours have been a lesson
in pain and humility. I felt such a fool at work, the girls I work were
both sympathetic and funny. Somebody came by for some coloured paper , I
bent down to look under our shelf and I was racked with pain, one girl
told me to crawl away out of
the
way so that she could find it instead. I hobbled away, out of the way.
The rest of day I moved about like an 80 year old, rather like my own
dad. I hoped that on my lunch break while I sat for 30mins in the
cathedral my back would be restored. We stand all day in our print as
some
of you may remember me mention. Prayer and rest for 30mins no doubt
aided my soul but not my back. I went back to work and hobbled about for
a couple of hours.
Then
I decided I really had to go home and rest. Getting home I got off the
bus and had to walk only 300yards, a crippled Charlie Chaplin kind of
walk, though I look more like Oliver Hardy. I was home 2 hours earlier
than normal so the family were surprised.
I
told them I was fired as a joke. Then I sat down on an old chair and
then I could hardly move. Standing up again was an impossibility. Last
Friday we had a drama with my youngest, this Friday, Friday 13th it was
my turn. My girls all laughed at me, just as I would laugh at them if
the tables were reversed. Night came and knew I could never climb the
stairs to bed, but at least our bathroom was downstairs. So I tumbled
onto our sofa and got ready to spend the night there. Only we have a
glass coffee table in front of it and I was afraid of falling off onto
it.
So at 1am I staggered up the stairs like a drunk with locked joints,
then I rolled onto my bed, screaming as I did so. I did sleep, but in
the morning I had to slither out like a snake sliding out of bed on my
belly. Some positions were possible and some were not. My wife
laughed till she cried my youngsters did too, as for me,
I
laughed and cursed and laughed again. My wife went to see the pharmacy
man for advice and a spray for me. The pharmacist laughed too, he's an
old friend. When she got back I was all sprayed up, the old spray and
the newly bought one drenching me and my room with the stench of a bad
back. I slithered in and out of bed, crawling around
as
I couldn't stand up straight. As for getting down stairs that would be
an impossibility. My wife went shopping, stopping first to steal my
debit card, laughing she left me in my bed of pain. When she returned
she gave me yoghurt and orange juice. Later I just had to go downstairs,
but I couldn't walk. I slithered off bed like snake, then made it to my
hands and knees, then an inspired idea. I bounced down the stairs one
step at a time, on my butt , one step at a time. Then I crawled across
our living room and pulled myself up onto a chair.
I
did notice that we needed a new carpet after 20years our carpet does
need replacing. I then rewarded myself by stealing my wife's pork she'd
just made.
Later
after some movements like belly dancer of 120 years old, I managed to
straighten up. I do walk as if I have a full diaper though. I made it
too my big chair in front
of my computer. And that’ s how I got to write this 100th post.
The moral of all this? Well I am a very bad patient.
Health is the most important thing in our lives. I
rejoice that my girls have a good sense of humour, even
if I am the butt of it all. Last year when I had food
poisoning they had plenty to laugh about then. And I do
laugh at that memory. We are all worms crawling in the
dirt.
It is God's love that lifts us up, as does our family life. Sometimes
it is only though pain and adversity that we learn such truths,
sometimes we learn mundane things, but they too have meaning for us,
even if it’s just the fact that we need a new living room carpet.
70.The trouble with Technology ©
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 antisocial 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
71. My Wife The House Painter © By Michael Casey
As
I speak my wife is painting the bathroom. Its 9:45pm and the kids are
all tucked up in bed. So she can paint away to her heart’s content. She
is a much better painter than me, if any of you have trawled to the
bottom of my site you will have read Michael’s Bathroom a tale of paint
and disaster from 11 years ago, from before I met my Shanghai wife.
That’s her 10years ago on my profile photos. Right now she’s wearing her
pink and red strawberry pattern pyjamas while she paints. She is very
good, she can even do intricate calligraphy, I think its because she’s
good at that so she’s good with a paint brush in her hands. Earlier I
had to test our 5 year old ready for her spelling test in the morning.
She got 10/10 last week so we want her to continued. I got her to write
the spellings out while I said them for her, you have to try and sound
out all the letters, and remember the “baby” pronunciations too. She got
lunch wrong she spelt it “luch” so I got her to write it out ten times
correctly, only she wrote it out ten times incorrectly,
so I encouraged her again and she wrote it out 10 times again, but this time correctly. We never had any of this
40
years ago, education has progressed in leaps and bounds. My other
daughter had homework and a crossword too, I had to explain what
crosswords were all about, and not arguing, but words that crossed and
fitted into each other like Jigsaws. She also had some maths, she was on
a high because she was the best in her class that day. The teacher made
her a bracelet out of stickers as a reward. But my big daughter has
been “cheating”, while she was in Shanghai her grannie, Ma, had given
her lots of homework every day. Ma was the accountant for the bus
company you see, when I 1st visited Shanghai in 2000 I had been in her
office and there is a photo of me trying to safe
crack
her safe, the bus company safe. My daughter has in fact got a photo of
Ma and my wife with the safe behind them on her bedside table. Ma’s
brother a former journalist also gave my daughter homework while she was
visiting his house for a few days. So it was that combination of
Chinese discipline and love, that had helped her so much. Now she is in
bed asleep, the smell of paint is slowly drifting towards me though 2
doors are firmly closed, but in the morning I will have a new bathroom,
so much better compared to when I did it. Being married these past few
years has given me an appreciation
of
the finer things in life, and one of them is to know when to “allow” my
wife to dabble with a paintbrush. We just have to make sure the girls
don’t touch anything in the morning. I should say that one thing I go
get my girls to do every night is to say their prayers. At the moment
there is a little girl of about their age who has just been diagnosed
with cancer, so I ask my girls to pray for her. They say that a sinner’s
prayers are golden
, a
child’s prayers are golden too, so if any of you who are reading this
can spare some time then DO pray for that child. I remember back in 1998
I was in Paris and I stumbled on a funeral and they were saying that
the deceased was a traveller and there I was a traveller at his funeral,
so of course I prayed for him. So now I ask the same of you, please
pray for this child.
Tomorrow
is another day, tomorrow I may have a new job, I’ve been redundant 8
weeks tomorrow. I could be getting a new job with a different Law Firm.
All I need is a new lick of paint and then I’ll be ready for the rest of
my
life. It would be a good birthday present too, that’s all
I have to say tonight, except buy some paint brushes for the Love in your life.
72. From Shanghai to Birmingham
My
girls are home at last after 8 weeks in Shanghai, so I'm no longer Home
Alone. I'm not like the kid in the film, I'm a grown up, or so I'm
told. My 2 small daughters plus the wife were in Shanghai visiting the
Mother-in-Law, or Ma as we all call her. My smallest
shed
a few tears as she missed me so much. My big daughter as I call the
other one discovered the joys of IM, so she could send me messages. We
did use the camera as well, and the voice aspect too. One daughter spoke
to me while the other sent cartoons and silly things via IM, I got my
big
daughter to practice "the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy blue
dog" as an exercise. I can remember my brother doing that 30years ago or
more when he taught himself typing and Pitman shorthand.
My
parents could never dream of such modern technology, text, voice, and
full voice and camera. If you saw a postman once in a blue moon, now
that was something special, though that was back in 1920s/30s Country
Kerry. Now the generations have moved on, technology is king. My kids
went to the zoo and saw not 1 but 3 pandas and one was a baby panda.
Something big to boast about when they return to primary school in a few
days time. They also
went
to the new beach by Ma's house. There wasn't one there 10years ago when
I first visited, so they decided to build one and charge people 30RMB
each to use it. It looked nice on the photos they emailed me, however as
its that part of the world you do have to be careful, because there are
small sharks around. A great experience for such small children, they
have come home speaking even more Shanghai dialect. They moved around
too and spent time at various houses belonging to uncles and aunties.
The Film uncle, the USA uncle, the Army uncle, the Taxi uncle, I cannot
pronounce the names so we have shorthand to explain who is who. I have a
Chinese name, Panzi, it means FAT FAT BOY, because I'm so big compared
to the Chinese side of the family. They also saw Google cousin, because
she and her husband work for Google. They did go to the Irish pub and
send me a photo showing them enjoying themselves, I think that should be
classed as torture, there I was Home Alone while they were in the Irish
Pub in Shanghai, it’s near the US Embassy if ever
you
are over there. They came home via Frankfurt, and 2 bags got lost
because of equipment failure, but luckily the bags appeared, along with
my wife/kids' treasure, shoes, a bag of shoes. I got a silk duvet, and
that is a
great great treasure, and what was the final treasure brought all the way from Shanghai, a big wok.
p.s. The house is so noisy again after 8 weeks of silence!
73. What makes me smile
We
all have different views on what is funny. Americans seem to like
custard pie humour, where the joke is telegraphed. Pie face pie face,
custard pie in face. Say like Laurel and Hardy. Over here in England
it’s a bit different. I can remember Monty Python starting on TV, I was
in 1st or 2nd year of Grammar school. We had to explain to our French
teacher what was all this "woody" business, Monty who? was his reply.
Different styles of humour work in different different places. As you
all know a baby can hear while in the womb. So why does our youngest
daughter have such a good sense of humour. Was it because of us her
parents, her West meets East in her blood. you know what we think, while
my wife was visiting she was 7/8 months pregnant, so the unborn baby
heard her Chinese granddad making jokes and making everybody laugh. So
that at an early age she is a mimic and makes us
laugh,
michaelgracycasey she calls me, putting on a deep voice and reciting
what my prayer is, let my comedy book be published and can we have a
bigger house, please god.
And pumping up her shoulders too. This makes us laugh and is a natural thing, a 5 year old cannot be taught this.
My own dad used to say "your ear is very near me", which
was
an implied threat, so it told us to behave. Me and my sister remember
this and laugh, a 40year old laugh, I have told my own kids this and the
smallest says it back to me in her deep voice. So it will pass down the
generations, a remembrance, a prayer almost.
I
was a concierge in a 4star deluxe hotel for 3years, this job gave me
plenty of time to watch and learn from people. It also gave me a chance
to practice my stand up while dealing with people. In the main I could
make most people smile. It is a different art compared to writing
or
straight presenting, if you can do one it doesn't mean you can do the
other. But if you smile at people they do tend to smile back, so if you
start with a smile then you cannot go far wrong.
74. Down my Street turn left to reach the world
They
say that 100 years ago a man knew 2 blocks North, 2 blocks South, 2
blocks East and 2 blocks West. Or back in Ireland as far as the market
and back to the farm. No doubt the same in England. World War One
changed everything, their innocence was taken away from them, no virgin
on a wedding night. But rape as the guns fired
over
no man’s land. Men came home with tales of woe, tales of Paris and
drinking by the Seine. Tales of Mud and Death, they never spoke of
because it was too much of a torment.
The small world of the village was swept away. Buses came along and linked village to town, the railway too. A
small
world was changed into a bigger world. Radio was invented, the wireless
as it was called. The world could reach into every nook and cranny of
the isolated village. Was it the work of the Devil, this radio.
Newspapers too, not to mention the fact that more people could read.
Isolation did not exist any more. Then came the Cinema, the Flicks as it
was called because the films flickered. Everybody's world was changed,
everybody had a bigger and bigger world view. It was like a walled
garden that had its walls removed. No longer a cosy world, but
the
winds of change, the winds of communication. The walls came tumbling
down, the walls came tumbling down. You would need to be a hermit, or a
monk hidden away on top of a mountain on an island that was lost at sea,
then and only then could you have a sheltered existence. TV came along,
black and white then colour. Then cable and satellite and then HD. Not
to mention computers and Internet, perhaps living on the dark side of
the moon is the only place to be, IF you want solitude. For my street is
the world, and all its news.
75. The Invisible Diet
I'm
big, my boss calls me "the big man". Some may say "fat", I'll stick
with big. I am 3stones heavier than I look which I suppose is good. 3
stones is18 to 20 kilos, that in itself is the weight of a growing
child, or one suitcase ready for international travel.
My fat is not wobbly fat, so I don't look like a jelly,
its
tight fitting fat. Makes me sound so glamorous, you can see my photo on
this site so you can be the judge. Just big, or big boned as some fat
people say. Me, I'm just big, so let's leave it at that, you don't want
me to cry do you. I did have a compliment from my Chinese masseuse, she
told my wife that all my skin was tight, so there you have it from a Phd
a Chinese doctor.
Now
what if I could share with you knowledge which will make you all lose
1/2 a stone, that's 7lbs is you are an American or 6 tubs of margarine
if you are metric.
So
how do you lose weight? You just don't try, and then as if by magic you
lose weight. A Muslim friend at work SR, explained Ramadan to me. I
said for Lent I'd just give up chocolate or something. Very easy
compared to Muslim fasting. That was when I was a kid, now old age and
so on meant...
So
I agreed to give up Chocomilk from the company drinks machine. The
drinks were free and we did work in a very hot print room. So I gave up
my favourite drink for Lent.
I
still carried on drinking, but only the squash, not the nice and
calorie laden Chocomilk. After a few days I did not miss my favourite
drink, and the weight just fell
off.
Though another friend was quick to mention that M&S had just
closed its sandwich shop near the office, so I was having smaller and
not as nice sandwiches. That he thought may be the real reason why my
trousers were looser, whatever the reason, once my friend had come back
from holiday with a new bride, he saw the difference. Mainly with my
thinner face.
So what is the moral of the story? If I can lose 1/2 a
stone then so can anybody else, I did not look at any
magazines or starve myself as girls do. It was the lazy
man's diet and it worked. So here I am still Big but
happier looking more and more like George Clooney. Look at
my photo and judge for yourself, more photos can be
googled.
76. Food For Thought Think AS You Watch TV (c) By Michael Casey
As
we sit in our armchairs watching the news , do we care what is going on
over there , in some place hot , too hot to think about , or too cold
to bear , ice and snow everywhere . Are we just waiting for the sports
report , are we waiting to see was the battle hard or a walkover , did
our favourite player score a home run , or 10 touchdowns , were the
crowd , the audience behind him , did we win 100dollars from the bet we
had on the side . In the interviews after the war was won , were we just
watching to see the design on the teams shirt , is that a new logo , is
that the same logo spruced up . Or is it a new logo entirely , does it
make any difference in how the team played , or just another million
dollars in the owners pocket , paid by us the audience , the fans , just
so we can all look so identical . The reporters are screaming loudly ,
half excited and half in fear , they want to watch , they want to cover
their eyes , but they are there so they must report . Are they in some
arid desert , or in some cold cold place , pain and fear and hope etched
on their face , are they in some war zone ,
or at the stadium , if all we heard were just their words
, could we tell the difference , do we care , so long as we can switch it all off with our remote control .
********
Just a little food for thought , you can read my Betting On Disaster
77. Education always reach for the Stars
Where I was born and grew up, is only 2miles or so from
where I live now. I was born in the shadow of a brewery
and ended up working for a Market Research company doing
research into alcohol sales and I was a shandy drinker.
Do
you want a girlie I was asked when we went to the pub, sadly the barman
died early, so you can pray for him.My father, my dad was a blacksmith
and my mum was a farm girl. Both from County Kerry, the best county,
just you ask any Irishman. My dad was apprenticed to a Blacksmith in
Rathmore, in 1995 we went back an rediscovered the very place next to a
new road. The blacksmiths had turned into a hairdressers and the store
had been demolished. My dad always spoke fondly of the blacksmith. That
blacksmith never had any children, but my dad was treated as family. Go
out woman to the henhouse and see has the hen laid. This would be about
1935/6.It there were 3 eggs then they all had one. If 2 the blacksmith
did
without , and if only 1 egg was laid my dad got it. This is how
"family" should be. In 1944 my dad came to England and the steelworks in
Brasshouse Lane. For 40 years he endured the heat, 400degrees beside
the furnace. You could lose 1/2 a stone a day in sweat. My
dad
often did 12hour shifts and sometimes 16. So coming from that he always
wanted his children to do better, EDUCATION was the key and it still
is. I remember asking him what subjects I should do when we did the 3rd
year split. His answer was I don't know, but do what you like but do
your best. Now perhaps that should be written on every blackboard
throughout the country. My dad had a large family and he loved and
encouraged us. So imagine his pride when in 1968/9 one son went to the
best university in the land. Then a few years later another son went to
the opposition best university in the land. Today do kids listen to
ignorant teachers, back at our grammar school we were encouraged. And
mum always said you are as good as anybody. Me I'm the failure I'm just a
Wordsmith.
78. My stories, my babies
My
site, this site disappeared for a few days, a few thoughts passed
through my mind. Have I lost my "babies" my "work" my "stuff". For
anybody that writes, be it me who writes simply hoping for a bigger
audience once I'm discovered, or say for the Google Librarian in charge
of millions of books. Worthy books and all kinds of everything, the one
word passes through your mind "OH HOTDOGS" as the astronauts used to
say. However I used to be a computer operator back in 78, yes 1978, I
was still just a teenager then. And the "one thing" as Glen Beck is fond
of saying, the "one thing" I learnt was NEVER
NEVER
NEVER trust a computer, always but always have lots of backup. We were a
very small outfit to start with but then we taken over. And in the
beginning we flew by the seat of our pants as early pilots used to. So
at work we kept 3 generations of backup, first of Magnetic tape then
many years later on super8 video then data storage tape. AT home over 20
years ago when I first started to write
I
had not one but 2 photocopies of my book. Then when I decided that a
typewriter was old fashioned I moved to an Atari 520 which a few years
later I updated to an Atari 1040, my friends were into games big time so
that was
their
recommendation. I only needed a word processor but I took their advice
anyway. It was very expensive 300pounds or 480dollars at today’s
exchange rate, and that was nearly 20years ago. Yes a fool and his money
are soon parted. Our lust for writing soon means money departing. Now I
had my own computer then, so did I have 3 generations of security. NO, I
had TEN. My stories, my babies were the most important thing in the
world to me, so I always too 10 copies on floppy disc and scattered them
all over my house. When I finally finished my book The Butcher The
Baker and The Undertaker I even hid one in the family home. So if there
was theft or fire I'd
still
have my back up. I'd leant from the antics at work, always but always
have back up. Moving onto the Internet age, I hide/store/conceal/save
whichever is the correct word, my writing is in Cyberspace so that it
should survive anything as its on servers on the 4 corners of
the
globe. Which book would you chose to save in Cyberspace. On Desert
Island Discs the Radio4 show on the BBC they ask that question in a
manner of speaking. The Bible and Shakespeare is given to you and then
you can chose a book. Would I be conceited and chose me own book. No,
yes really, no, because you know your own book so
well and you can create more windmills in your mind so
easily as more pieces of the jigsaw appear in your mind
that nobody would chose their own book, well perhaps some
Hollywood types. So what would I chose. Probably a
History book, I once wanted to be a History teacher, and
my
own History teacher did recommend Don Camillo to me, a comic priest
tale from Italy. In some ways I hope my writing is like Don Camillo, a
mythical place with comic, English meaning of comic, goings on, If
finally somebody says my stuff is comic. Then then I have finally made
myself understood
That’s all Folks as Bugs Bunny used to say or was it OH CARROTS
79.Fat Man's exercise and food shopping
Well I start my new life today. I'm redundant and looking for a new job, so I have my plan to follow. I will walk
to
the top of Bearwood every day, it 10mins there and 10 mins back, so it
might be 2k altogether, or 1.25miles on the way I browse in the shops
but spend nothing as I have to watch the pennies until I get a new job.
On the way back I do my shopping. I look for bargains, such as gamon
instead of sliced bacon, fresh orange juice at half price, yogurt as a
treat and at the lower original
price. Cereals too because they are quick first thing in
the morning. Not forgetting green bananas that will ripen
for when I'm ready to eat them. Cheap 1/2 price pizza too
and 1/2 price cheese that I can slice and add to the
pizza to make them nicer. Milk is always good so 3litres
of that as well and some sweet corn for good measure. All
in all my week's shopping. I used to work for ACNielsen a
long time ago and they would put me in the opportunist
shopper bracket, no brand loyalty just a vulture so to
speak Once home some 1/2 price coffee from when I stocked
up
before then its on to the Internet to trawl through the job websites.
Staying positive is the name of the game. Apply for nice jobs that will
speak to my heart, as
well
as apply for jobs that will just feed me. Now at my age, I'm 20 in my
head, but my birth certificate says otherwise, I'd like somewhere where I
can stay till I can retire, hopefully with a lottery win in 3hours
time, but failing that till regular retirement age. However with
politicians being so bad as they are, and the economy too, I imagine
I'll be 92 before I can retire, which leaves only 8 years to have fun. I
always said I'd like to live till I was 100.So where will I end up? God
alone knows, and he doesn't talk to me anymore, perhaps I should listen
more and then I'll hear his voice. Though I can say that when you do
listen you can come up with inspired poetry which some may say comes
from God. You can find several such pieces scattered all over this site,
or in my 2nd book Essays and Plays.
That's
all for today, I hope it doesn't pour tomorrow because whatever the
weather I must do my walk, just to blow away the cobwebs and who knows I
may come up with a new poem I can share on this blog. I find IF I can
get
the
first line then the rest just pours out, poetry is harder than anything
else. Writing a book is much easier, it’s getting published that takes
decades. Cheerio from sunny Birmingham as the clock strikes six.
80. Die Hard 4.0 or how to use talents
WE
just finished watching Die Hard 4.0 on the tv. We all really enjoyed
it. The story revolved around people taking over all of the computer
networks in the USA.
There was loads of action but what made me think was how would you deal with hackers?
In
England we have a man with a form of autism who just after 911 he broke
into USA computers, because he was looking for news of ETs, it was his
hobby. He has been dragged through English courts and finally he will be
sent to USA where he could go to jail for a long time.
So
the question is why weren't the USA computers hack proof. Was it
because they weren't tested? Was it arrogance? Me, if I were the USA
authorities, I'd give the guy a job and let him explain just how he did
it. Or is it empty pride? It would be far cheaper than sticking him in
jail. I'm sure if those of you who are in the USA are reading this and
you stop to think you agree with me. War Games is a film from 10 to 20
years ago when teenage hackers get into NORAD. A similar them.
When
I eventually get around to writing Tears For A Butcher my follow up
comedy novel, then in that book there will be a handicapped person who
is a whiz on IT.
Their
body may be mal formed but their brain is not. In my story it’s to show
that we shouldn't put people in a dustbin because we are ignorant about
them. And arrogant towards them. In my story those IT whizes do get
offered a great job working for the USA, why because they did what was
in Die Hard 4.0, by the way I thought up my plot line before I saw the
film. Also in the follow up book
two
twin sisters find their first boyfriends, and who do these Venuses
pick. Do they chose football heroes with bulging muscles, but maybe no
brains. NO these two Venuses chose a guy with a limp and the other pick
has a severe stutter.
Why
do I chose to make my characters in my book behave in such a way? I
want people who see the true worth of people. Its not the smile, all
flashing perfect teeth. A better person may have bad teeth and bad
breath. A real hero is not all "Hollywood", it’s the guy in the garage
who
fixes your car. It’s the fat middle age lady who is the crossings lady
when you take your kids to and from school. It’s you when you
deliberately start a conversation with the lonely old lady on the bus.
Your very words are warmth to her soul. She'll smile and get off the bus
and wave to you. She'll talk about you to her
cat when she gets home. You have been the one ray of sunshine in her day.
These
are ordinary people who make up our world. Some will have talents which
God has sprinkled randomly, just to remind us that all are loved by
him. Even me, even you.
81. Shakespeare in Love and various other thoughts
We
just watched Shakespeare in Love the 1998 film. It was very good and I
enjoyed the music too. The passion for words and the wheeler dealing was
funny too. I think Dame Judy Dench got an Oscar for it too, forgive me
if I'm wrong. The Passions and Pain was all revealed too, I'd forgotten
how good the film was. A long time ago I did a course on Shakespeare,
you have to try and understand the style of the language too, the
metaphors and old English language. All in all a very good film, with
even a young Ben Afleck in it. So grab and pizza and get a copy from
your local video store.
What
Shakespeare also reminded me was how we all need to communicate to each
other. If Joe knows cars then we speak in car metaphors. It not
patronising its
socialising,
when I was working at the hotel 5 years ago if we had Scots visitors
then the word "wee" would slip into my language it was the natural thing
to do. We even had Top Cops conferences so I'd share a joke with a
Chief Constable or two as I walked around the hotel on a security
patrol. The joke was we had a sniper on the roof to keep petty car
thieves away. We did have the most secure car park on the NEC site. The
NEC is the biggest
exhibition site in Europe, and bigger than the one in New York, so I've been told.
If talking to chefs you always listen with respect not
just because they were masters in their field but because chefs have knives, lots of knives so it’s always best to
have
respect. The housekeeping crew knew everything about cleaning rooms and
corridors, so I'd share a word while I did my 30 mins patrols that took
me everywhere. Some
days I might even be helping them when the hotel was
ultra busy. So I'd stay out of Vicky's way by cleaning
the bathrooms while she cleaned the bedrooms. It’s very
hard work, but there is a sense fulfilment when a
corridor has been done. 15 rooms a day I think it was,
though it could have been 20. I'd take off my front of
house jacket and roll up my sleeve and put the rubber
gloves on while I was on bathroom duty. My dec phone
might ring then I'd be summons downstairs to help out at
front of house. Its all like a mad and busy ballet,
though I've never worn a tutu, though I have been
positively vetted by a Chinese ballet dancer when I first
met my wife, but that's another story.
Life is all about stories, if my story is appealing to another person then we may become friends, to others it
may
be boring and go on forever, so then I'm a bore. Its how our lives
connect and how social jigsaws fit together that makes us all work as
friends and as work mates. Sadly there are people who put themselves
above us, it can be a boss or a priest in church or the snob selling
newspapers in the street. Life is about blowing bubbles in the air that
blow this way and that way, they may stick together or blow randomly all
over the shop. But bubbles are a glorious thing they make us like
children, happy and innocent and willing to share our sweets. I'm
forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air is the song. But the
most important thing is the range of colours, the joy, the happiness
that bubbles bring, just like Shakespeare's sonnets.
82. If I were a fashion writer.
To
begin with let me explain. I was trawling through the jobs sites when I
came across an ad looking for all kinds of everything for a Fashion
Mag, nonpaid I might add. So it set me thinking. I do have a Shanghai
wife who sets heads turning, and I have to comment on all the fashion
she wears. So after more than 10 years I have learnt a little about
Fashion.
I
would no doubt be called Grandpa whenever I attended a Fashion Event, I
have the same white hair that the famous fashion designer has, I don't
wear gloves with the fingers cut off though. Though I do have thinsulate
gloves in black and in red. Just as he has two colours.
My
waistline is bigger, I'm as big as 2 models, though you would never see
me in purple lipstick and covered in rouge. Fishnet tights though,
that's another matter, Men in tights and Pantomime is an English
tradition. Google Pantomime if you have not heard of Panto. Men dress up
as women and women dress up as men, perhaps as Robin Hood. It’s fun for
all the family. But I was talking about fish
net
tights before I was side tracked. Fashion makes a very big statement.
Some of the high end fashion is not really fashion. It really is a work
of Art. I saw a
documentary
once on TV and after watching the man with the funny gloves and the
white hair go about his work I realised it really was Art and not just
Fashion. Now what would I do at a fashion show? I'd drink the free
champagne for starters, pity they don't serve hot dogs too, then I'd be
in heaven. Some of the designers destroy what they are trying to achieve
by too much hideous make up. The fashion really would be better served
by well dressed dummies. Smearing a beautiful models with soot just
destroys the vision. The dead eyes that you see when models walk the cat
walk is terrible. Yes Fashion is
King,
but if the models looked happy and you could almost believe that they
all fought to get into the dress they were wearing. Then you'd say, she
looks so happy wearing that you can see the joy in her eyes. Then
Fashion would be better served.
There
are other designs which are truly great but they are ruined because the
colour palette is so bad. It’s like when you see 2009 Punk Rockers, I
remember the original ones 30 years ago so today's versions are just so
passe. You can go into a shop and as you look around you see 40 shades
of grey or 20 shades of black. It’s not even worth trying the clothes
on. Ditto when you can see the clothes
are for 40 or 50 somethings. Colour is Great, so USE IT, life is in Colour so lets see it in the designs.
Women are beautiful and the more intelligent 1/2 of our
species, their beauty should be celebrated and enhanced
by fashion. Colour and Cut matched to sympatric makeup
will make women glow, and allow women to wrap men around
their little finger even more. Good fashion does this and
I know that when I look at my wife.
83. BBC asks top writer to take course on drama
BBC
asks top writer to take course on drama. I just read that in today's
Telegraph. I'm trying to get my foot in the door in the writing game. I
once posted my Internet Story comic essay on a BBC site, where it was
removed, why, because
"And help find a publisher for my book , and then you've guessed it , just send me 10 dollars !" Is the tag line
for
the joke at the end of the essay. But to the BBC I was soliciting
money, so they removed it. If I had a Bafta and had the BBC telling me
how to write , I'd slam it down on the desk of the idiot who asked me to
do a test and ask them to write a thesis on "How to win a Bafta". Total
BBC Idiots,
Sorry
Moses you cann't part the Red Sea without Health and Safety assessment
1st. And as for that stick in your hand we will notify the Police,
weapons are not allowed. As for you Gandalf, drop it now or we'll try
this new mace on you, we've just imported it from USA.
Sorry no Loaves and Fishes or Water into wine either, you don't have A3 consent.
Sorry Gordon and David, those speeches have to pass the censor, and don't forget the 3pm watershed, we don't want
kids
home from school getting all confused, which one is the liar, is it
always the one in Government or is it just the Opposition.
So
the BBC has to bore everybody with fair and balance just like Fox news.
Sadly I am not surprised, perhaps the stuff I write is never PC, so it
will never be published or produced. www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
is
where to find it, so judge for yourselves. My latest idea is to turn my
non PC play Shoplife into a Health and Safety piece by using reverse
logic
84. Under My Bed
What's
under your bed? We used to have an airline pilot stay at the hotel who
would open his room door and leave his flight bag down propping the door
open while he then rolled an orange under the bed. He said he travelled
all over the world and this was his safety routine. If you go to a bad
hotel you may find an uneaten Kentucky Fried Chicken still in its box,
under your bed. Normally it’s an odd shoe or sock, if the housekeeping
crew are trained well you will never ever find any of these things.
Having cleaned a few rooms myself when I was at a 4star deluxe hotel for
3 years, I can say it is hard work and you have to be fast and furious.
But so long as the hotel gets 6 quid or 10 dollars for the room then
they are in profit. But all of this is an aside, what's under your bed?
We decorated a few years ago and I had hundreds and hundreds of photos
in photo albums. We took down a couple of shelves while we decorated,
but then we had a problem, one of them broke. The one which had all my
photo albums on. I hadn't really looked at all these photos in years,
so
the bin beckoned. However I decided I'd keep them. So where to put
them. Under the bed was the solution, we had an old suitcase so I put
all my photos away. It must have
weighted
25 kilos, or 55 pounds or 4stones in English terminology, which is as
much as my big daughter weights, talking of weight my wife only weights 6
stones, light enough to be a jockey. Now there's an idea, my uncle
Patrick used to keep a donkey just to cut the grass around the house in
County Kerry. My wife could have become a jockey, if only my uncle and
the donkey were still around. Life is all about timing after all.
So
grunting and groaning I carried the old suitcase upstairs and slid it
under my bed. There it remained for years. Two children later and today
our smallest one wanted to look at all the photo albums, the ones we
keep in the pantry. Though technology has moved on now and we have maybe
1000 photos on the computer and in cyberspace on our family site. But
our smallest likes to see herself when she was even smaller. So I
decided to drag out the suitcase and show both our girls photos of me
from 25years ago and so. We had snaps from when my sister did her year
abroad, from when my brother lived in Paris.
There
were lots of photos, 10 small albums of County Kerry, donkey included.
All my cousins, my dad's brother had 10 children after all, my mum had 5
surviving brothers and sisters. There were photos of the beach at
Cromane
, my cousin's son measured the distance from the corner of the house to
the sea, just over 7 metres he said, or about 23feet in old money. I
remembered the Love my aunty showed to all of us, she was always the
driver, 1000miles in 2 weeks seeing all the clan, she is truly blessed.
From the base in Killarney to all points North/South/East/West you could
put on a stone, or 14pounds in 2 weeks, 3 relatives a day, 3 meals a
day.
All
my cousins were always so generous and welcoming, there was always so
much gossip and stories to be heard. All this lived in suspended
animation in a suitcase under my bed. They all awoke like a Princess in a
Fairy tale story when I dragged out the old suitcase today. My girls
said I looked so cool with my sunglasses and my moustache. I told them I
was younger than mummy is when the photo was taken. Why did everybody
have a moustache in them days?
I
also found my copy of The Outline Of History By H.G.Wells , signed by
Mr Lester the head teacher from my Primary school. It was a leaving
present, believe it or not I was Head Boy at Primary school, it was a
bit like being a jailer really, as I had the keys to the building and I
locked up at dinner time. I also found a
certificate
from 1969 because I wrote a story for a competition, Junior Free
Handwriting Story something. This impressed my big daughter.
I
found my mother’s prayer book with lots of religious pictures inserted
into the pages. Mrs Murphy in my novel, The Butcher The Baker and The
Undertaker is based on my mum, but not just her but my Aunty in
Killarney and the 2 other sisters. So my fictional Mrs Murphy is to the
power of 4. While I'm thinking of it, I deliberately did not
write about my dad in my book, however after I finished it I realised that Big Sid the butcher he was my dad.
Not
because of any similarities whatsoever, but, the Love Sid has is the
same Love that my dad had for all of us. Love is how you judge people,
anything else is s*&%.
I
also found a nice little book about Saint Martin de Porres, I'll try
and get my daughter to read it, it must be 30 years old. All in all a
lot of memories came flooding out just because I looked under my bed.
The suitcase I threw away, the history book is back on the remaining
bookshelf just beside me. I found a large strong plastic sack and I put
my photos back in the bag. The only thing I had to decide was where to
put it. You
know what I thing I'll put it back under my bed. Memories to sleep on
85. Wrapping Paper
I
was in Aldi and I spotted Winnie the Pooh wrapping paper, my smallest
girl just loves all things Winnie the Pooh, so I got the paper. I wasn't
sure whether to wrap her Birthday present in it or just let her have
the paper. In the end I gave her the paper to play with. She
was delighted, immediately she wanted to use the wrapping paper to wallpaper the walls with. As I've said before
she
once said she liked Winnie the Pooh because his belly reminded her of
my belly. Such is a child's love, unflattering but love.
It
did get me thinking though, why do we need wrapping paper? Packaging is
part and parcel of ordinary life. Easter eggs are the thing with the
most packaging, so much packaging and then so little chocolate. My
mother gave up on Easter Eggs because of the cost, there were so many of
us Caseys after all. So we had bars of Cadburys chocolate instead, the
Cadburys factory is just a couple of miles from where I'm sitting.
Easter came and we devoured the Cadburys bars, cheaper than the Easter
Eggs but so very tasty.
People have wrapping paper or layers all around them, we can all remember what Donkey said to Shrek, so many
layers like an onion. At the moment I'm dressing up in
the wrapping paper called a "suit", so that I can get a
new job. So people can see me at my best, hide my tummy
and hope they forgive my premature white head of hair, as
for my bushy eyebrows God alone knows what they may
think. You can judge for yourselves by clicking on the
photos on this site. How much do you reveal, how much do
you hide as you have an unnatural experience that is
called an interview. Perhaps interviews should take place
in a coffee shop, as you may know LLoyds of London
started in a London coffee shop 100s of years ago. Even
better interviews could be held in a bar. You have two
pints
to prove your worth, so don't spill the peanuts over the interviewer's
haut couture dress. Perhaps then at the 2nd interview you have to sing
karaoke with the 2 interviewers, and IF you can sing My Way word perfect
then you get the job. It sure would be more fun.
More
wrapping paper is used when we are embarrassed or too shy to explain
things to our doctor, we waste 5 mins talking about the weather and the
Fall leaves before we finally blurt out that it’s a boil on the bum ort
something below the waistline. And why is it that on these occasions the
doctor on call is one of the opposite
sex, why can't it be your usual doctor.
Wrapping
paper is used an awful lot in Faith, we lie to ourselves and our
God/Gods by thinking we don't have to do this or we don't have to do
that. Faith can become a Buffet, we lie to ourselves and God, this bit
does not matter, so we'll show God only so much of ourselves. A
bit
like cheating in an exam. I'm sure God's smiling as he watches us,
perhaps the Saints place bets on who will finally come clean, clean
being the operative word. The Saints queue up ready to intervene, which
999 or 911 call will come though so that a Saint can be dispatched. I
know
in1996 when my mum had died suddenly and then 8 bare weeks later my dad
was given 1 week to live, we actually picked the hymns for his funeral
he was so bad. Then all
the
layers, all the wrapping paper was off, Padre Pio came to the rescue.
So that I met my wife in the old peoples' home, 3 years after my dad
came back from the dead. Dad lived long enough to hold his granddaughter
in his arms, 5.5 years after that massive heart attack.
The
ultimate wrapping paper is love, It’s hard to say you love somebody
when your heart has been broken so many times before. It’s hard to take a
chance when somebody might laugh in your face. Slowly you reveal one
thing,
then
another, then another, yes I can see the idea of a Monty Python joke as
I write this. I do write comedy after all. But when 2 strangers become
friends, when 2 become one, then all the wrapping paper is off. She may
not mind your hairy back or fat stomach, he may not mind her big feet or
whatever she feared. It can turn out that what one thinks is ugly your
Love may find attractive. Love is Blind after all, Love conquers All,
Love is all
you need. Together naked, the wrapping paper is discarded.
86. The White Door
The
White Door, or the dirty white door to be exact. I had a dream last
night and I saw a door, a dirty white door. There were two nails driven
into it in the top left hand corner of it. That's all I remembered, we
do have 2 white doors in our house but neither are like that.
So
what was I dreaming about? Years ago I had a dream dictionary, I would
have eagerly read that to find out. So instead I'll have to use the
Internet, google will have an answer no doubt.
I've
said for years that I'd only get a real publisher IF somebody opened
the door for me. A negative friend always says you have to make your own
opportunities. I take the view that it’s not ability but knowing
somebody, the old saying, it’s not what you know but who you know.
I knocked on loads of doors via emails, but still after
20
years no publisher for my novel. A friend said it’s not just a door but
maybe a window I'd may have to sneak my talent through a window before I
finally got my chance, before my boat comes in.
My
smallest daughter said she had a dream last night too, she dreamt we
moved house to the big white house we walk past daily on the school run,
and that we had a cat and
a dog. The dog will be called Subway. She was all excited as she told me. Children just love animals, but I've said
no
animals till we get a bigger house. Somebody somewhere has to find me
and like me, and then publish me before our dreams can come true. Or my
32 year old lottery ticket could finally come up trumps, thought I doubt
it.
You
never know what’s around a corner my old boss once told me a long time
ago, she was right, I met the wife in a most unbelievable way. It’s all
in Padre Pio and Me and my Literary Criticism essays. Doors can be
opened and closed, closed in your face. For 3 years I stood by a door
when I worked at a 4star deluxe hotel, the whole world passed through as
I was a 30 second living commercial for the hotel. Best 3 years of my
life in a way.
Doors
in the mind are the best doors to open, because they free you to
experience more, I'm not talking about taking pills or whatever, just in
case any Old Hippies are out there and reading this. Just open your
heart and you will open a door to experience more, to remove barriers
that leave you in a box, full of your own prejudices. Think of it as
food, we always have this and
we always have that. Because that’s the way we have always
done
things. Then we meet somebody different and our food world changes, our
doors are open. Imagine me meeting a Shanghai girl 10 years ago , I
told her fish and chips
was
haute cuisine. Now you need a degree in oriental languages to know
what's what in our fridge. The kids love going to Subway as it’s a
change from daily Chinese food. That’s why if ever we move house the dog
will be called Subway.
I'll
leave it at that now, though I can say that Fear opened one door for
me. I was so afraid of my Primary school teacher when I was 8 that I
started to read books, and it changed my life. Getting an old Bush radio
from one of our lodgers also opened another door for me, expanding your
mind is a great adventure. If you are lucky it leads to a corridor full
of doors and opportunities. I suppose writing these blogs as well as
the essays and plays and the comic novel is a door too, you the reader
are seeing into my mind, I just hope you like the view.
87.
Where do the tears go when they are shed © By
Michael Casey
Where do the tears go when they are shed While I lie here crying on my bed
Do the tears drip drip away and seep though The floorboards and head for the sea.
Do my tears join an ocean that rises and falls Do the tears yell and scream but only sea farers
Hear them, do whales moan as they crash through them
Only whales know of my distress as my tears groan
In deep deep oceans in the unknown dark deep seas.
Do my tears head north to the North Pole and Santa
Does Santa Ho Ho Ho so much because he is trying to drown out
The cries and sobs and tears held back for so many years. Do tears form ice shelves and become icebergs, silent and majestic
Like giant cathedrals of ice. Is this the way to silent the voice of tears.
Frozen in Time for 100s of years, the fears of today and yesterday are merged
As one, gagged for eternity in an ice cathedral.
Will everything be forgot, deep freezed, quick frozen like garden peas.
Do my tears evaporate and head for the sky, joining the clouds as they pass by.
Are my tears blown this way and that, are they taken far away over the ocean.
As planes pass through the clouds that are my tears, can the passengers hear
Can the passengers hear my tears, all my hopes and fears, or are my tears
Drowned out by the inflight movie, 007 killing my prayers to heaven.
Do my tears wash away my pain, my guilt, are they like mothers’ milk?
For tears touch us all, they are like a morning mist that shrouds us.
For tears are the dark dark night of the soul, a cold coat that covers us.
In the morning we remember we fell asleep crying, but what of now?
Now we’ve looked at our dead mum’s photo and think of what she would have said.
We smile as we remember, her fight, her love, her spirit, her smile.
But never tears, she shed no tears for us, she shed no tears for us.
Tears will come, tears will come again, but they are just water, we are stronger
Than mere water, we have a boat and that boat is Love.
* I had this poem in my head so tonight I tried to a nail it down
88.A_Famous_Life_an_Expired_Life_Words_from_Beyond_The_Grave I did my best, I tried to live a holy life, thinking of
the
next life and not tied to this. But now I'm gone you turn me into an
icon, I get 15minutes of fame, after I'm dead, but those 15minutes last
forever. I wanted a humble grave, a quiet send off, only a brass band
turned up.
People spoke kind words about me, some even meaning them, but for what? For vanity, for care, for compassion to
those
I left behind, or to make themselves important by association. I'm just
a signpost pointing the way, go higher, don't stop at me, the signpost,
go higher. Go to heaven itself, not this ornate graveyard, with people
selling tee shirts with my name on. Go higher.
I'm
just a mother so remember me well, don't fight with one another, love
one another and help each other, if you want to remember me then
remember those words of mine. And I'm not angry with you any more, for
that joke about Thomas being the ideal name for an atheist. Breath the
fresh air, sit on the grass in our small garden and remember how as kids
we all cut that grass by using small pairs of scissors because we
couldn't afford a lawn mower. Life goes on without me, I never saw those
pretty girls of yours, but God lets us see things sometimes, and yes
you
are right I would have spoilt them if only I had lived to see them. But
my passing led to dad going into the old folks home, and it was there
where you met you wife, at least he held the 1st girl in his eyes before
he was called into Paradise. And do you know they have a beautiful
garden there, and for fun we are allowed to cut the grass with scissors,
one blade at a time. So enjoy your life and enjoy your family. Those
prayers you said for years brought tears to Heaven, and then by chance
at a letter box she met a man who ran the home, and that’s why she was
there waiting for you, waiting for you all the time, love is no crime.
Hope and Tears and love, and I did give cupid a push from above, and I'm
so glad you didn't call anybody Thomas.
89. Pink Floyd, Music and Me
I've just watched a biography about Pink Floyd's Dark
Side of The Moon. It was very good, music really is the
soundtrack to our lives. Compared to Music, Writing is
rubbish, Photography is better than Writing too. The old
saying a picture is worth 1000 words rings true. I used
to be surgically attached to a camera as my old boss used
to say. Any company event and I was there with my camera.
That’s
no longer true, but I use it to illustrate the fact that I like photos,
taking them and composing them. Straight boring photos were people line
up, like in 1950s school photos are terrible. Photos should have
energy, I did enter a competition to win a nice new Nicon. but I don't
think I've won. They wanted a cycle shot, like in Tour de France. I sent
in a photo of my daughter, then aged 3, riding a plastic tricycle in
our back yard, she
was
wearing her pink pyjamas and some pearls she'd stolen from my wife. If
Nicon have a sense of humour then perhaps I'll win after all. Anyways I
hope that proves photos are more powerful than words. Going back to
music though, my brother used to have a reel to reel tape recorder and a
speaker through which he played music at high volume, to drown out the
sound of the rest of us
while
he was studying. Using this method he got into the best university. So
it was then 40years agro that my Love of Music began, at the time it was
Cream music, which featured a young Eric Clapton. I still have that
speaker in my house. And as for Eric Clapton, I almost carried his bags.
Going back to my point though, Music touches us in seconds, a Clapton
riff, the first few notes of a piece played by a pianist on a piano, a
phrase by Michael Bulee. Musicians have power over us. So much power.
Perhaps the caveman who drummed on a skull with a bone from other
caveman he'd just eaten; perhaps he, perhaps he excited the cavewoman
enough so he could mate with her, and that led to us, and me writing
here in Birmingham England and with a press of the button sharing my
thoughts with the entire world. So a drumbeat on a skull was the
beginning of music, and sex and the continuation of our species. As for
writing, thousands of years had to pass before it began and could be
used to pass on stories. Storytelling started straight away, as
the
cavewoman told he sister to get some of the action from the drummer.
But the writer as such did not start until thousands of years later.
Perhaps that is why Music is deeper within us, and why we hum and
whistle or tap
tap
tap on the steering wheel while we are stuck in traffic. If there are 3
words that can be written to compare with the speed of Music's power,
perhaps its " I Love You" , "I want you", "Come here...." Words like
that, spoken, do have power, but words have to be backed
up with better words, stronger words, the words on the
page have to ignite to get the reader to read more, to
touch the reader. A poem or two of mine can touch people
when my poetry is on form, but, but it takes 30seconds
for my words to go from the page through somebody's eyes
and then finally touch their heart. And that's why I'll
always be jealous of drummers, even if the drums are
made of leftover skulls from dinner.
90. Tempus
Fugit - I am your Future, you are my Past Its my smallest daughter's
Birthday soon, this got me thinking. My sister sent some presents over
in advance and my daughter was delighted with her treasure, even if it
wasn't Winnie The Pooh but some other bear. Eyes lighting up as she went
through her bag of treasure, counting out the treasure just like the
King in his counting house. Her big sister observing and trying not
to
get jealous, however she had some treasure of her own, my sister had
sent some Maths quiz books over to encourage her with her sums.
This
morning they were having a disco in their bedroom, with a DAB radio
blasting out Heart at high volume. I had an blue radio with holes in it
like a sieve when I was their age, it had MW & LW on it. FM was
not the standard yet in those days. IT was while listening to that radio
that
we heard RFK had been shot, I remember running down stairs to tell me
mum, she was in the kitchen, she was always in the kitchen, she fell to
her knees and got her rosary beads from her apron pocket.
A few years later Frank who was one of our lodgers went back to Ireland to look after his sick mum, her left all
of his stuff behind, a full and heavy suitcase plus a
Bush
Radio. He eventually came back and said we, that’s me and my brother
could have the radio. The Bush radio is a classic design. It has a large
strip carry handle, like a
giant
strip of marzipan, it also has a giant saucer dial with grooves in it,
and as for the controls they were like dominoes, plus a grooved wheel to
turn for volume. That radio changed my life. Why? Well me and my
brother used to listen to the World Tonight with Douglas Stuart
reporting, which was a 30min news programme from the BBC Radio4 and best
of all it was followed by The Book at Bedtime. Because I started to
listen to Radio 4 from the
age
of 10 or so I became addicted to Current Affairs as posh people call
it, News to you and me. The stories and plays were great too. Though
after 20years of radio plays, The Radio 4 radio play style can have its
shine taken off. So that was my thing for 20years or so, I suppose that
was what led me to Writing. It also made me realise Radio is better than
TV, as far as news goes.
Radio
has more power and the picture don't get in the way of the story. IF
you try an experiment and listen to a news story then later watch the
news and hear the same story, you will realise that the Radio version is
better. Those of you in USA may not be able to do this experiment
directly, so try closing your eyes and listening to the news, then watch the same piece later. Ears are better than Eyes.
Nowadays
DAB radio is the thing, though they use lots of electricity, but the
sound quality is so good. So my daughter has a DAB radio and that's her
standard, small radio but high quality. The Bush radio we had was bigger
than a cereal box and heavy too, but it did change my life. It was
company for me when my brother left home to do his gap year, before gap
years were invented, as I struggled with my Latin, my Bush radio was the
sound in the background. Though I had music on when I did homework, now
as I write this I have music on too but this time its via the computer.
Where have all the years gone, I look at my eldest daughter and she
looks so much like me when I was small over 40years ago. WE have a joke
as we look into each other’s eyes. "I am your future, you are my past."
91. What If
I
stumbled over this from a few years ago, perhaps you'll like it. The
attachments can be downloaded in seconds and then you can sample my 2
books and a couple of plays. They all go well with a coffee and a donut
What If (c)
By
Michael Casey
What if Today wasn't the 1st day of a New Year but the last Day of Your Life.
Who would you hug, who would you kiss, who would you miss.
Who would miss you, do you have a clue, and do you know why?
Would your years of striving to be a good writer/teacher/cop or whatever still mean so much to you .
Would you miss making love in a tent high up in the mountains.
Would you miss a real good coffee and donut on 7th and 4th.
Would you miss the sales where you always bought nothing but shoes, shoes for work. But the fun you had with the
girls was worth it , because pals are fun.
Would
you miss Midnight Mass and Silent Night getting home exhausted and late
and crying for your late mother. Would you be too afraid that you'd not
meet her again in the afterlife, or would that be the only hope you'd
cling too as you watched the hands on clock sweep around faster and
faster.
Would
you rail at the world and want to get your gun and shoot those bastards
who'd ruined your life in the past , even if all they ever did was
steal your parking place,
or would you be all sweetness and light, dying peacefully without a fight.
What
would be your parting words, would anybody remember you, small
kindnesses remembered and rewarded. Remember thou art dust and to dust
thy will return is the Ash Wednesday phrase
Is that how you want to be remembered?
Or he made me laugh, he made me cry but I was always was happy when he was around , I'll miss him yes , but I've
not
lost him because because a laugh lasts forever. That is my hope, for
the start of this New Year and new day, and every day because we all
should live like today is our last because one fact is certain, one day
it will
be , so make 'em laugh , make 'em laugh, make 'em laugh
Happy New Year from this Comedy Writer Michael Casey
92. Pick Your Poem + (c) my new children’s book
This
is my new children’s book, this is the first page or so, my big
daughter is going to do the drawings for it. Perhaps I'll end up as the
new Roald Dahl Pick Your Poem + (c)
by Michael Casey + Annie
ONE
Dad loves watches, he loves if they sparkle
BUT THE SAD THING IS THEY ALWAYS BREAK.
He told me that he got one for passing the 11 plus I’m not sure what that is, I think its when you are over 11
So when dad was 11 and 1 day he got a watch. He said it was
from one of the lodgers, Big Jim. Big Jim was like an uncle
to my dad, he gave him things and when Big Jim died dad got lots of his things. But I was talking to you about watches.
Dad has a very sweaty wrist, so when dad works his wrist gets
sweatier and sweatier. So that the watch steams up, just like
when mum is making rice and the kitchen window steams up, so
mum has to ask dad to open the kitchen window to let the steam
go out. She is very small you see, because my mum is from Shanghai
which is in China, didn’t I tell you that already. Well you know now.
Unlike a kitchen a watch does not have a window to open to let the
steam out, the teacher in school told us that blind people do have
watches with windows, but that’s not to let the steam out, its so the
blind people can touch the time. So really dad should have a watch
like that, then everything would be ok.
The Photo is Mum and Dad a long time ago in the kitchen Dad has had lots of watches, not just steamed up watches but
he breaks them too. Dad says its because he’s always been carrying
Things,like heavy paper in computer rooms. He even told
me that
Computers used to be as big as washing machines, I think he was
telling me lies, computers are as big as books everybody knows that,
so I told him “liar, liar burn in fire” That’s what Irish Grandma
used to say. He said one nightshift the glass came out of his watch,
so dad glued it back on with superglue, only dad glued the hands of
the watch together. Sometimes I think dad is stupid, but then he tells
me stories so he cann’t really be that stupid. Mum says he’s her stupid
and clever husband. Chinese Grandpa sent him a watch and dad hasn’t broke
that one yet, he’s had it 6years perhaps all he needed since the 11 plus
was a Chinese watch then he wouldn’t have broken 20 or
more watches.
TWO
Tick toc tick toc
The hands on daddy’s watch go around
The hands are getting dizzy
The hands are going around and around Tick Tock Tick Tock
The glass is steaming up,
its hot inside this watch.
Tick tock Tic Tock
The hands are slowing down
The hands are slowing down
Its steamier than a bathroom
Inside this watch
Tick Tock Tick Tock
The glass is all steamed up now
Tick Tock STOP
The watch is as quiet as a mouse
The watch has stopped forever
Tick Tock stop
If you like what I've done so far then send me an email thanks. Michael
93. The Next Big Thing or how my big daughter told me to write a childreen’s book
The kids finally go to bed and we can hear them rushing around and laughing.We shout up the stairs telling them
not
to make such noise and be quiet or they will wake the baby next door.
But it does make us smile, me especially. Then my big daughter sneaks
downstairs to have a chat while the other half of the family sleeps. Its
nice, I
used to have a "social" with my mum when I was young, she's sit on the top step of the stairs while I told her
all
my hopes and dreams, then she'd give me a goodnight kiss and I went to
sleep happy. Now over 40 years on I am doing the same thing for my
daughter, and not doubt she will do the same with her children. Tonight I
was explaining sibling rivalry and how it was really a waste of time, I
could never match my brothers and their very high educational
standards, I was me and they were them. Could they write a poem such as
this:-Let There Be Light ©
By Michael Casey
Let my tears be my words
Let the candle light be my eyes
Let the flowers in bloom be my lips
Let their scent be my blood
Let the wind be my breath
Let clouds be my mood
Let children’s laughter be my hope
Let widows’ sighs be my conscience
Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight
Let the bees be my wisdom
Let the trees be my strength
Let my patience reach to the stars
Let
me be always remembered in your prayers Well I don't think so, but they
can drive, I have a driver in the form of my wife. So I tried to
explain this
to
my big daughter, how we were all different. Then she got me to put her
to bed, and tuck her in, then she said I should write poetry for kids.
So there you have it, I'll be trying to do that. It doesn't take as long
as writing
a
play ora novel, she said I should put Tears For A Butcher on hold. The
1st chapter is written, and I've got ideas for 50% of the rest of the
book, but now I think I'll follow her request. Then she can do the
drawing for whatever I come up with. We did think of writing "My Silly
Family" a while back, but now while I try to find a job I have a bit of
time to try writing poetry and stories for children. So forgive me if I
park my new babies on this site. Does anybody remember Edward Lear and
his Nonsense Verse from 100 years and more ago, we can all check google
for him after I have finished
writing this. So basically that's my next thing to do after I put it on my to do list.
Goodnight and God Bless as my mother used to say in the 60s.
94. Traffic and Bubble Bath
I
watched the film Traffic today, I recorded it the other night and left
it on our machine, so today I watched it. Everything was understated, it
was directed by Steve Soderbergh, ,I hope I got that right the credits
were
rolling fast. I was impressed by the good Mexican cop who risked his life so much, he was a very good actor.
Michael
Douglas also gave a very good performance. His daughter slipped into
drugs from being a very rich kid who was bored, in the end she was a
hooker to pay for her habit. Very seedy. The style of the film also made
in more interesting. How many awards it won I don't know. I could
Google and find out but I'm sure the film buffs reading this will tell
me. In the end Michael Douglas realised that his grand job was worth
nothing compared to the love of his daughter and his wife for that
matter. Family is everything.
Bubble
bath is so nice, perhaps some may call me a girl for saying this but it
is true. A good old soak in the bath is great, especially with the
radio for company. Being like a Hippo for half an hour or until the
water is no longer hot IS great. You do come out all wrinkly a lot like a
prune but it is great. I know in USA its showers
but I think a soak is always nicer. My wife likes sauna,
then a shower or a bath when she comes back from the
sauna at the bottom of our street. My old uncle Dan in
Boston loved the public sauna too back in 1980 I was
taken there when I was on holiday. But back to bubble
bath, it is a kind of church. Why do I say church, before
you have cartoons in your mind let me explain. You are at
your most relaxed when you are lying there in a warm
environment with nice aromas around you. Its a kind of
womb, and if you put your ears under the water then
things sound how the outside world sounds to an unborn
baby. In the bath or should I say tub, in the bath you
can relax and all the day's problems can dissolve. You
are probably closer to your god too, no outside events
crowding your time and mind, I'd bet too that people pray
more while they are all alone in the bathroom. You are
all alone and there are no barriers, you are literally
naked before God. No expensive suits and designer
jewellery, you cannot be pompous and powerful when you are
naked and looking like a prune and covered in bubbles.
Inventors probably get their best ideas when they are in
a bath. Don't let us forget Archimedes in his bath either.
But
why am I linking Traffic and Bubble Bath? Drugs kill and corrupt.
Bubble bath turns us back into kids and cleans us. Our minds, our
imagination are our greatest gift. We may be thrown into jail but we
still have our minds. We may be doing a job we hate, but our minds are
free. Drugs are just a passing high. But if you have
your
mind, your imagination then you have something to play with which is
more powerful than any drug. An imagination is even more powerful than
Nuclear Weapons. And man's imagination can bring an end to nuclear
weapons.
Perhaps its in our baths covered in bubbles and hot
water
that we know just how great Peace is and how Peace and NOT drugs should
be shared around. So starting one person at a time we can influence
Life on Earth.
p.s.
while I was cleaning the car park of CPNEC that's when the idea for
Tears For A Butcher came to me. Imagination is our greatest gift.
95. Extended Christmas
We
have a lot of snow in England at the moment, some even say its the
worst Winter in 30 years. The Infant school opened only to shut down on
the first day at Midday. The Junior school over the road stayed open,
they did let you take the kids home if you had a sibling at the Infant
school. Both schools are at the top of the hill,
literally
on the brow of the hill, with the soup bowl woods just behind the
Junior school. I decided it was safer to walk than drive the car, so JJ
stayed while I walked the kids up the hill. I kept on saying "remember
this", as we listened to the sound of the snow crushing under our feet. I
got them to observe the snow as we walked to school, the pretty natural
"pictures" they could see and how they could draw them in the future. I
encouraged them to observe the shapes, I want them to have memories for
the future. When they have children and grandchildren they can tell
them about the big winter of 2009/2010, just how pretty it all looked.
They may even remember me. After school we went through the woods ,the
snow looked great behind the school as I showed the girls. There must
have been 150 people all enjoying the snow and maybe 15 people with
sledges, any of you film
fans
out there will remember "Rosebud" and citizen Kane, so I needn't say
any more. For me though it was an opportunity to plant seeds in my kids
imagination, joy and love and snow. Today and the weekend we missed
another load of snow but there may be more tomorrow. In fact it was
noticeably milder and the snow in the back garden wasn't rock solid, it
had melted enough to make a snowman. So I started a snowman for my girls
and when they get back from school together we can finish it off. These
simple pleasures are what makes family, so I hope wherever you are
reading this you do the same for your own family.
96. Junk Mail and how to destroy it and all of their computers
I
don't know about you but junk mail is a total bore. I think I'm world
famous now, why? I get 20 a day, sometimes more. Sometimes for fun I
reply and give them rubbish information. You always get the story that
they are dying of cancer and they want to leave you all their money. Or
the subject line is "from the desk of barrister James Pooh" and other
such gems. I saw on tv news how in one place in Africa there were a line
of computers and a teacher at the front who had written the fake story
on the blackboard and they were all typing it out. Junk emails also come
from China too and all corners of the globe. HOTMAIL ALERT please send
us all your info or lose your hotmail. Phishing scams galore, and I
click them out of existence. If I had Captain Kirk's technology then I'd
vaporise them. If only Bill Gates would let me hit
return
and them send a magnetic pulse in an email so I could wipe their
computers, and far far worse. I'm sure everybody who reads this is
agreeing with me. Oh don't forget the 1,000,000,000 I've just won
according to the junk email, just send my details and then they'll ask
for a 100 to cover expenses and then they'll post a check
for
1,000,000,000. And yes I just to attention when its from the desk of
barrister James Pooh. And don't let us forget they are believers,
DECIEVERS and crooks and liars that is what they really are. With each
email address that is zapped they get an even more improbable new
address. I still think Bill Gates should let me send a zapping email
that wipes their hard drive. But he's too busy trying his new Google
phone. Hey Bill can you just put that down for as second and help me
with this email. However somewhere in the wide world somebody who has
English as a 2nd language may end up reading this and think Bill Gates
is sitting on the chair next to me sobering up after stealing all my
beer from the fridge, and then I'll end up will 200 junk emails a day.
But as
we all know today is Thursday 7th Jan and every Thursday
that is also the 7th Bill goes bowling with the
President, not the USA President, but with the President
of the Michael Casey appreciation society and
they read all my stories from my site
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
AND IF YOU BELIEVE ANY OF THIS THEN YOU BELIEVE IN
FAIRIES, or you are still reading from a Blackboard......
97.Horror Story and other stuff
I
asked my daughter for an idea then I'd write a story, just as we all
used to do when we were kids in school. She said "Pain" as I hurt my
back again recently and it took 2 weeks to heal. But I decide to write
about Horror instead. As I speak the kids are in bed, either that our
they are staying in their room and drawing. Drawing is big in our house.
My wife is very good and can ever do calligraphy in Chinese symbols. My
own brother can also draw well, so I'm pleased its being passed down
the generations. Me, I'm just rubbish.
What about horror? Well you meet somebody and then they turn out different to what you expected, so that in a way
is
a horror story. As for real horror films, or suspense films they tend
to be polarised. You have the buckets of blood ones, which I cannot
really watch. Or the suspense ones, with the creek on the stairs. I
think the creek on the stairs ones are better, buckets of blood ones
tend to be just that, all buckets of blood and no plot. I saw the Lost
Boys recently on TCM it was funny and had a good plot and did not rely
on too much blood. My wife hides behind her hands when the suspense ones
are on. It was film that brought us together, watching films, and yes
we
are a kind of Adams Family, when my young daughters
friends arrive I say "welcome to the Adams family" ,
sharing a good film does break down barriers.
Japanese films are good too, the cartoons that are so
well drawn, we saw one this afternoon it had even won an
oscar, best of all it was on BBC so there were no adverts
to ruin the film. It’s still funny when we see an old film
and it’s the first time my wife has seen it in English, or
without Chinese subtitles. But then I watch Chung Ying
Fat in some things and I'm raving about it. My wife just
gives me a potted history of all the stars and who is
married
to who. So films are our joy, so don't switch off the lights I'm going
to bed now and I'll make lots of noise as I go up the scared, just to
frighten away any ghosts that may be there.
98.How
to bribe the kids while the wife is at the dentist Well, just how do
you bribe the kids while the wife is at the dentist? The answer is Dr
Who, a science fiction action show for all the family. Goggle will
reveal all.
My kids knew there were 2 Dr Who episodes on tonight on 2 different stations. They reminded their best friend and
her nana on the way home, it was so important not to miss one.
Once
home we had 2 hours before Dr Who started. So books out and must be
read before any tv. Apart from me and Tv news, I watch BBC, Sky, Fox
News. My girls hammered the books and I prepared their meal. Mini
instant 3 minute pizza, followed by milk and bananas and oranges.
Normally
its Chinese food made by my wife, rice with everything, so what I dish
up is a change for them. Its three saucepans on the go and my wife
stirring just like the witches in Macbeth, ubble, bubble, boil and eye
of newt and tail of bat. That's how I tease her, you have to, it’s what
she'd grown use to after 10years or so.
The
kids ate and I watched the news. Then the reading all done it was wash
then Dr Who, I got them to get all cleaned up so they could watch Dr Who
back to back. Dr Who then bed, everything all done by 8pm. Well so much
for the plan. The 1st episode I did not want to watch again so I browsed the Internet, just in case Tiger Woods had stopped by.
The
2nd episode of Dr Who was set in ancient Pompeii, on Volcano Day. I
have actually been there, back in 1995 its a great sight to see. If you
ever get the chance then do go, but no doubt Google can reveal lots for
you. So I enjoyed Dr Who with the kids, I should say that Dr Who started
40 years ago when I was a kid, it was reinvented recently and has won
awards like the British equivalent on a Tony award. Yes that good. Dr
Who does not die he just grows a new body and carries on, he's over 900
years old. I'd love to see his 401 plan. So Dr Who ended and the kids
went to bed. Result.
My
wife arrived late, I knew she'd gone off for an adventure. Only to Cost
Co for margarine, with the coins she'd stolen from my wallet all in the
name of car park machines. I had wanted to go with her tomorrow because
you can get a great hot dog and a soda and a soda refill for 1,47 which
is 2.25 in dollars I think. So I had
missed
my chance for a hot dog. She did have some news though. Her wisdom
teeth would be taken out in January, and they wanted to pay her
150pounds or 220dollars IF she
let them try a new anaesthetic. So they would be the
witches and she would be in the pot so to speak. I told
her she should have said NO. She had said No already. Then
she told me the date. The date for her wisdom teeth to
come out will be my dad's 8th anniversary of his death.
99.The First Christmas Card
My
daughter brought her first Christmas card home from school today, so in
time honoured tradition I picked her up and we placed it on top of the
kitchen cupboards. In fact she had 5 cards, so we bunched them all
together so that when the avalanche of cards arrives we will have room
for them all. Back in the days when me and my sister lived at home there
were stings going backward and forward across the living room and the
tally was 200 or even 250, my sister was/is very popular so her cards
were the bulk of those that the Casey family got.
So
now 25years and more further on I hold up my daughters and we display
the cards. Soon the kitchen space will be full so then I perch the cards
on the paintings that we have on the walls, then we fill the space on
top of the telly with more cards. Christmas is on its way. My brother
came with cards and presents for the girls. I hid
the presents and they will have to wait 3 more weeks
before they get them. They love their uncle because he
always brings something, he does look a bit like santa
too what with his huge white beard. Our mother no doubt
blesses all her children from Heaven, we continue the
love without her.
My
youngest was at a Birthday party tonight so I took her big sister with
me when I went to fetch her home. We went up the shopping street and
could see the Christmas lights as they were switched on tonight. We also
noticed how the posher streets than ours were so dark, at least our
street
lights were brighter. We passed by one of my dream houses, but again in
the gloom I did not like it so much. Bringing the small one home we got
her to close her eyes and walk, she didn't cheat either then on the
count of three she opened her eyes to see all the pretty colours that
make up the shopping street Christmas decorations. she was impressed.
Walking
home we observed all the Christmas trees and lights that people had in
their own homes, nice and pretty. Though it does remind me of County
Kerry when everybody has a light in the window, so you can look from
Cromane over to Inch on the Dingle Peninsula and see all the lights in
the windows. I think its to guide the 3 kings, but ask your own local
priest or Fr. Google may know. Though it was in 73 when I remember it
the most. We were all much younger then. Christmas is a time of Love and
Family, a time of watching The Bishop's Wife with Cary Grant. Of
watching a Christmas Carol with a tear in
our
eye, eating too much and spilling ice cream over the new jumper your
aunty had just given you. So you will have to wash it first before you
give it away to the Salvation Army. But most of all it is a time of
Hope.
100. Pub to Bus Wisdom?
I
went to see a friend and his crew today, a few beers followed by a
noodle bar, a few jokes too. Time really does fly when you are enjoying
yourself. 40 years worth of time to be exact, I've know Big D since
grammar school, 40 years ago. In fact my mother knew his grandmother for
years before we ever met. He remembers our exam scores from 40years
ago. He credits me with much more than I really am. Though I do use him
for references, why because he went to University, in fact he is Dr BigD
PhD,
I
had him sign his name at my wedding too, just so my kids in the future
would be impressed by it all. Mind you once I married into a Chinese
family and met Chinese folks a PhD was quiet common. If there are
1350,000,000 people you had better have a great CV or you'd get nowhere.
Also at my wedding was William and Cindy. Cindy was a beach
babe/lifeguard from Taiwan and her husband William was Dr William and
his PhD was in Metallurgy, and my dad was a Blacksmith, so William was
both impressed and honoured to meet my dad. On the bus Big D, which is
his nickname because he is so small and Big D was a brand of peanuts
40years ago. On the bus Big D was telling me how he had to take a few
exams every year so that he
stayed certified as a Path Lab person, obviously I'm totally ignorant of all things medical. On my wedding day
AJ and
Big D were doing chemical equations on a napkin in McDonalds, jj the
wife has a chemistry degree so they have something in common. Big D once
had chicken's feet cooked for him by jj at our house, he thinks I'm a
girl
for
not trying them. The bus carried on so I asked had he made his Will
yet, what with swine flu around, besides he could always leave me his
stamp collection. Then I'd buy a bigger house. Sadly he said he wanted
to be burnt with all his worldly goods with him , a bit like a Viking I
suppose. I told him JJ wanted to be cremated too, but I told her I'd
just bury her in the back yard. Yes we did get a few strange looks from
people on the bus, but we had alcohol and Chinese in us so we didn't
care. He told me he'd send a postcard from Seattle, he's been going
there for 8 years, so Christmas time is his vacation time. Then he
stumbled off the bus, my stop is 3 stops more down the road. So I got
off and did my usual sprint down the Bearwood rd. I noticed a half price
bed in one shop, IF I can squeeze it into my dog leg stairs then I may
get a new bed for Christmas. Then getting home I managed to fix the
computer, 1st law of electrics, unplug
and
rest and then try again. So it worked. I also entered a win a watch
competition on a watch website. So if I win then I'll have a nice new
watch, a 250dollar automatic one, it will be my Christmas present. At
the moment I
wear
one donated by my Chinese dad the year before he was tragically killed
in Shanghai. But I did meet him when I went to Shanghai in 2000, and he
agree with me, he was the only one who agree with me that sending jj
back to
tell
all my bad points WAS the right thing to do. And the rest is history or
you can have a look at the photos section. That's about it really, oh
by the way tomorrow our youngest is a sheep in the Nativity Play so I'm
looking forward to that. And then 14-18 Feb is Chinese New Year. So
Goodnight Wherever You Are, HIC
Well I hope you all enjoyed this selection of Blogs. Amazon Kindle has 5 of my books for sale. So enjoy www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com is my site
and click link to buy my 5 books on Amazon
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
today is 24/May 2013
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