The Cat's Miaow Heralds Christmas

The Cat’s Miaow Heralds Christmas ©

By Michael Casey

Yesterday was 9^th May 2015, a day of celebration in our house, Christmas had arrived early, over 7 months early. Yesterday was the Day of the Cat, or Totoro Day, forever etched in our memory. Yesterday my 2 daughters finally got their cat. They had begged for a cat for years but yesterday was the day they finally got their wish, their hearts desire.

I had to have my Triple Heart Bypass before I relented, now the cat had landed. It was a confluence of events, a friend of my big daughter had had kittens, or rather her cat had had kittens, four in fact. So she asked my big daughter did she want a cat. So I agreed, so long as it was a boy cat, a Tom as we say here in England. One reason being that I wanted another male in the house, I have been the token male in this Shanghai/Birmingham family for years. Now with a Tom cat the number of males in the household would be doubled, girls 3, boys 2.

I also did not want lots of future kittens all over our house, so a Tom cat was better than a girl cat. He would never be neutered either, I don’t want to give my wife any ideas. So Saturday 9^thMay arrived, the collection day. We had bought a cat box or jail, so at 11am prompt both my daughters skipped merrily around the corner to the friend’s house, the cat box swinging in their hand, they did bang it on the front garden wall, but Totoro was not inside yet.

Around the corner the kitten was placed in the mobile jail and transported back to our house, my girls singing Elvis’s Jailhouse Rock as they carried Totoro to his new home. Once home, our house is his home now, 7 weeks old and now he is adopted and has a Japanese name, he will hear plenty of Chinese from my Shanghai wife. He was going to be named Maomi, which is the Chinese for cat but our small daughter overruled us. Totoro is his name, after the fat cat from the Studio Ghibli films.

Totoro sniffed around the house, we had his basket ready, a wicker one that was ½ price from B&Q. Inside was an old rugby shirt of mine, then 2 blankets, so he would have a soft bed, a 3^rdblanket arrived from my sister when she came to view the new kitten. A scratch post was ready in a corner, it’s a bit like a pole dancing post for strippers, only its cat size and covered in rope. At the top is a wrecking ball with marbles in, though no Miley Cyrus attached.

We’d been shopping for cat food, we had Aldi tinned food ready, the girls decided to top this up with cat treats and Whiskas, which is the top brand here in England. The girls also bought cat milk, how on earth do you milk cats, perhaps elves or fairies go from mother cat to mother cat and steal the milk while they are asleep.

Whatever magic is used all I know is that in our fridge is a tiny bottle or two of cat milk, if you listen carefully as you pour it into a saucer you can hear it go “miaow.” As for Totoro when he eats he makes a noise like a machine, an eating machine.

As for the girls their joy is something to behold, Xmas really has come early. I told them they must ring their uncle and thank him, he gave them a large donation of pocket money which came just in time to allow them to splurge on the cat. So Totoro Casey the cat is now a member of the family, it was a big job getting the girls to go to bed last night.

In the middle of the night at 4.30am or so I came downstairs for a pain killer and to see how Totoro was getting on; he was happy, burrowed under all his blankets. I was concerned that he hadn’t done his pooh yet, or pee, even though he had been fed and watered. I had a slice of toast before going back to bed.

I was glad Totoro hadn’t activated the burglar alarm in the night. So I switched the alarm back on and headed back to bed. Only I did something wrong, and the alarm went off, making loads of noise. Totoro looked up from his basket, he didn’t need to say anything, he knew humans were morons total morons, didn’t I know cats need their beauty sleep, 16 hours a day of it.

It was 5am now, I went back to sleep, my pain assuaged. In the morning when I got up it was just me and Totoro in the house, I was home alone, plus cat. When my wife came home from church she told me that Totoro had done his business in a corner of the living room.

Our small daughter had cleaned it up, it was our coalition like deal before cat. I was relieved, not as much as the cat but I was relieved, the kitten of the family had made his first pooh at our house. Then Totoro decided to show just how clever he was, he peed in the corner where hours before he had poohed. I laughed, didn’t they know cats like corners.

So that’s the beginning of Totoro’s life with the Shanghai/Birmingham Caseys, the cat with the Japanese name who’ll soon be bilingual. Miaow. 

Social Media Will Win This Election Tonight, Alright?

Social Media Will Win This Election Tonight, Alright?

By Michael Casey

Ok, so here is the plan, we are gonna party tonight, better than 1999, ok, alright we gonna change the Election result tonight.

My friend, you know who, but you know who I mean don’t you? 

Anyway he said he didn’t believe in anything but in fact he does, he believes in money, MUNY as John Wayne used to say. So here’s what’s moving on up and getting on down. WE are going to have synchronised parties everywhere, all over the country, 23 of them, or is it more I don’t know the paper got stuck in the fax machine.

So while we have everybody partying away they will forget their own name in a drunken orgy of political tea parties, and I don’t mean those Americans either. We have the Mother’s Union make all the sandwiches, and Mary watsit off the telly has baked cakes, we told her it was for Charity, she was so accommodating, she even wanted to come. But I stopped her, it’d blow her brains off the kind of party we are having, I’ve injected some plant food I bought off the internet into all the cakes.

Lord Dodah from the house of Lords had donated 100 crates of 80 year old malt whisky , he has a friend in Old Forge and Singing Anvil who has a pub, don’t ask me where he got the whisky from but its good stuff. We’ve got the Sibling Brothers to do the music, don’t ask me what kind, they’ll just send a link and we rig it up to the music system, with a usb stick as backup.

So while we have these rave parties all over the country in swing seats the punters will be totally but totally off their heads. The parties will be all night sittings just like in the Houses of Parliament. They won’t have the energy to get to the Polls to vote.

So our party will win, 23 seats, that’s all they need to be a government. Or was it 88 seats, the paper got stick in the fax machine. What? Which party is our party?  Whoever pays the most, LabToryLibKip, I haven’t got a *&^% clue, I’ve been trying Mary Watsit’s cake, God she’s such a baker. Oh yea, I did inject a bit of plant food into it.

Now all we have to do is post the message on social media and then everything is ready. What time does the Library shut? We have to hurry or all  plans will come to nought.

The Library closes early on Wednesday, so we cannot rig the result of the Election. Can’t even catch the bus to Birmingham and the brand new library, the biggest in Europe, that’s closed as the council cannot afford to keep it open. Let’s go to the chip shop instead. 

May is full of memories

May is a month full of memories. ©

By Michael Casey

 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 sister’s house a few hundred yards from mine and we picked hymns for dad's 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 the 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 pa are looking down from up there in the sky.

****I wrote this a few years ago

Explaining Politics to Children

Explaining Politics To Children ©

By Michael Casey

Imagine you have to explain Politics to kids, what would you say and how would you do it? All Politicians are Liars and Bastards could be a good opening to begin with and grab their attention. Politics is all about Public Service, could be another line, just make sure you don’t say pubic service by mistake or you’ve lost your audience forever.

So what exactly is Politics, “the art of the possible” is one famous quote, you get a stale 2 week old Easter egg if you know who said that, no cheating on Google. Will kids in today’s world believe you if you said the Liberals were once a major force in politics and Labour is a new party, relatively speaking. Would kids have heard of the Whigs, and where exactly did the Tories come from as a name for the Conservatives, “nobody knows  Sir, they are just bastards” may be one interjection from Clegg at the back.

So you start by explaining what Democracy is, the kids say that this lesson is so boring and vote that they go and play football outside instead. So then you have to explain that teachers are dictators, so can they all sit down again and put the ball down. Such is modern day teaching, having taught myself this writer can vouch that it is even worse than that.

So you start the simple way, you’ll explain each party in turn. So you start with the Labour Party, so some wag at the back says it’s a party for pregnant women. So you reply that it’s an ever growing party as their numbers grow every 9 months. Then you talk about unions etc, the kids think this is so boring, until another wag says the students union is the best one, as the beer is so cheap, and he cannot wait to be a student. Was Tony Blair’s policy all about getting millions to drink cheap beer? I suppose in the end you do get a degree as well, I’m told 41% gets you an engineering degree, but the maths is so hard, could Prince Harry have passed engineering maths?

You try explaining Liberals next. The class is ahead of you and say they are all wear anoraks and smoke skunk, that’s why they wear sandals as laces would just be too much on shoes, besides laces become snakes if you take too many legal highs. As for yellow being their colour, it’s because they eat too many curries, but Birmingham is the best place in the world for curries, did Sir know that? Liberals like jointing things, such as Cameron’s government,  in fact they’ll join anything,  it’s the only way they can make friends.

Moving on to the Conservative, the clue is in the name, conserve, keep steady and not change too much. Aren’t they just rich bastards Sir? So you have to explain they have their own businesses and work hard, that’s why they move to nice areas. So they don’t have to mix with the likes of Smith and Jones, Sir, comes from the back. So you ask a rhetorical question, imagine you win the lottery, where would you go and live? I’d live in a nice house with those rich bastards the Conservatives, Sir.

UKIP, is next on your list, does anybody know what UKIP stands for? They don’t even know themselves , Sir, comes from the back. So you explain, United Kingdom Independence Party. And no they are not a Real Ale appreciation party. They are more than that, though judging by the leader, there is a large element of truth in that statement.

Scottish Nationalists, what exactly are they? Well they are Scottish and they are in fact a Separatist Party. They hate the English or so it feels, they are very clever because the educational standards are higher in Scotland. If only I could teach in Scotland bemoans the teacher as he kicks the football and it hits Clegg on the back of his head, but at least it makes Clegg pay attention.

All of the parties do have one thing in common, they love the sound of their own voice, they love being interviewed and getting a few quid every time they are on telly. The food and drink in the Houses of Parliament are great and cheap, that’s why a lot of M.P.s become alcoholics or just fat, that’s why they lean back and sleep in the chamber. The story of microphones bedded in the furniture is just a myth they are just a bunch of old sot

Now students I do hope I’ve explained the political system to you, we do have such a bunch of wonderful people ruling us. You can watch The Ruling Class the 1972 film with Peter O’Toole as homework. Don’t forget as you can now vote at 16, thanks to Prime Minister Miliband, don’t forget to go out and vote on Thursday. Now let’s go outside and play football.  Sir’s been smoking skunk again laugh the kids, Sir must be a Liberal.

This is me, this is what I look like

This is me, this is what I look like. 26th April  2015
Please buy a few books, I have 8 on Amazon
 Its 3 months since my unplanned Triple Heart Bypass Operation now

This is Totoro our new cat due to arrive on 7th May

This is me, this is what I look like. 6th April  2015

Why do we do it?

Why do we do it?

By Michael Casey

I was just watching Elementary on tv, it’s one of the shows I watch, Suits, Blacklist, Grimm, Dr Who are the others we watch in our house, not forgetting my daily fix of News. So why am I talking about Elementary? There was a line spoken tonight that got me thinking.

To be honest Sherlock explained why he did not want to be a dad, why he did not want to continue his line. In the episode a sex partner had been asked by his dad to breed, so that Sherlock’s dad could be a grandfather. The girl stated that Sherlock was remarkable and his talents should be passed on to the next generation.

However what Sherlock said in reply was revealing about Sherlock’s state of mind. Sherlock said he was an investigator not because he was noble , quiet the reverse, he was an investigator because he had to be. If you  like investigating was his therapy, otherwise his skills, his abilities would overwhelm him. He was good not for goodness sake, but for the sake of his sanity.

I mentioned this to my big daughter and she said it was very philosophical, it is a very thought provoking concept. I was once told by the niece of a famous Irish writer John B Keane from Listowel that he wrote because it was in him. This was in his bar maybe 20 years ago, I then thought that was a simplistic answer.

Now I know better, my own parents are Kerry people too, so it may be in the water, or in the breast milk that has turned me into a writer as well. We do things because we have to, it’s in our nature, it’s in the breed which is what my dad used to say to explain why certain things happen. The gene pool bubbles away, just as the soup my Shanghai wife brews in her pots for days, then finally something emerges, even if it’s not the Loch Ness monster, though Google may know more about that than any of us.

So something within has to come out, it’s a primeval thing, just like the urge to breed, though Sherlock did not want that responsibility, in fact he had a negative self-image. This was sad in fiction like tonight’s Elementary, and in real life it’s tragic too. We have to accept ourselves, warts and all. None of us is perfect, but life is all about honing our skills and making ourselves a better person than when we arrive on this earth.

Today on the news we had a tragic case of a girl dying because of poison pills she bought on the Internet, diet pills which killed her. These and legal highs are in fact illegal lows which kill, which destroy families and leave pain and sorrow behind. Perhaps this should be an Election issue. This girl had something in common with Sherlock, her self-image caused her pain which led in the end to death.

Sherlock has all these skills, and he uses them to help the NYPD,  it’s a symbiotic relationship, he is the little bird pecking away at the rhino’s bum, it gives him a purpose and keeps insanity at bay. But what of you and me? Why do we do it? What makes us help out at the charity shop, what makes us play golf in the rain. Why do we teach English to refugees. Why do we vote SNP or even Tory?

Pleasure is the answer to all these questions, it’s not as pleasurable as sex or alcohol or rock and roll, but it gives us pleasure. What gives us pleasure? The thing that makes us feel fully alive, the thing that makes us feel wanted, the thing that makes us feel wanted. Why do we visit the sick in hospital, why do we go to our church and clean it on Tuesdays. Why do we raise money for charity by doing sponsored events.  There are many many more examples, you can pick your own.

We get a kick out of doing good, whatever our small talent may be, it’s when we use that talent that we feel fully alive. Look at me I’ve been writing since 1987, I’ll never be famous or make any money from it, but I’ll still bore you all with my stories.

Other people have other skills, such as the leader of the choir who spends a lifetime teaching music.  Betty Williams is one such person who can be found at Saint Hilda’s, then there are the lolly pop ladies/men who shiver in the cold keeping our kids safe. There are many more examples I could give but you can pick your own from your own communities.

So why do they do it? I suppose in the end its Love. Love of whatever their skill is, and love of their community. It’s not any Big Society, or any fancy political words from the Left or Right. I thing people do it because it’s in them, it’s in the breed. We are all individuals, we are all pieces of a jigsaw. What we do holds this jigsaw together, and without all the pieces the picture is not complete.

We have to play our part, otherwise we are just a jumble of shapes on the floor, without meaning, without hope. But when all the pieces are place together and locked in place, then we have made love, and we are complete, one connected with another.

This Love is for Eternity

This Love is for Eternity ©

By Michael Casey

This Love is for Eternity

This Kiss is from my Heart

This Touch is full of Warmth

This Sigh shakes more than an Earthquake

This Whisper crashes Louder than the Sea on the Shore

This Caress is Deeper than Thunder

This Look is Brighter than Lightning

This Desire is greater than the Grand Canyon

This Song sings louder than birdsong

This Hope reaches beyond the Stars

This Love is mine freely given to the one I love

This Love is yours freely returned like the Tide itself

This is us, not one but two, but one again

This is all I can offer, this is my Prayer

This Love is all I have, my heart is Empty now

As I look to the Stars I hope my prayers have been enough

For this Love is Eternal

For it is my very Soul

Picking the Winner

Picking the Winner ©

By Michael Casey

Well it’s 18^th April and the Election is less than 3 weeks away so I thought I’d help you all choose a winner. I was in fact a trainee betting shop manager in one of my previous existences, so I should be able to help, well so much for the theory.

When you pick a horse you can go on form and how glossy the horse’s coat is. You can see who the jockey is and the jockey’s win rate and so forth, you can go on the pedigree of the horse, its parentage and so forth. And if all else fails you can pick your lucky number or the colours the jockey is wearing.

But what of Politicians? They have pedigree too, they are all bastards, that’s what we can all agree on. Though some guy or girl can be a right bastard, but would be a great M.P. he’d fight your corner, he’d be a great man of the people or woman  of the people. If you read chapter 9 of my novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker you’ll see my view in full, there M.P. means married to a people, and an undertaker wrote all the election speeches.

Now who do you pick? The guy in the nice suit who smells nice, cK1 and all, or the grubby one in the crumpled suit. Or the nice lady in the coloured shoes, with the skirt showing off her legs, legs so much better than her party’s policies. Or would that be a non PC thing to say. Or the man who looks at his reflection all the time, who can’t wait for his leader to lose so that HE can become leader, this election is just a stepping stone, HE is showing his legs metaphorically, he’s just waiting till he can run for leader.

There are blunt M.P.s and candidates, who you wouldn’t mind to spend an hour down the pub with, who are really interested in you and your area. There are the professional politician types with the glazed over eyes, who are looking at their watches all the time, but do make good speeches. The question you have to ask yourself is would they take their jacket off and help change a tyre for you if you broke down. It’s always best to judge people by their actions.  

Women have intuition; they can tell if somebody is “nice” this is what we should all be doing as we see this guy or that guy on the tv or on the radio. On the doorstep, we just tell all of them to  “piss off” as we are watching Corrie, we take their leaflet and say we will vote for them as we rush back to Corrie. So the figures are skewed while any soap is on tv, as we all lie just to get rid of them, soap beats politician hands down, any time.

This election more than any we are all already bored by it as it’s been going on for too long, so in the end we will all rush to the Left or to the Right at the last minute; though I would always say use your vote tactically, just so those looking at their own reflections and who are little robots get a kick up the backside.

Vote for somebody you’d enjoy spending an evening with. I can actually reveal that maybe 45 years ago I did attend a political meeting, I even bought a raffle ticket to win a glass ashtray to raise funds for that party. If I had stayed maybe you could be voting for me today, in this election. Michael Casey M.P. what do you think about that?   

    

  

)Over The Garden Fence

Over The Garden Fence ©

By Michael Casey

It was very sunny here in Birmingham yesterday, so as I was home alone, my wife and daughters are in Paris, I decided to annoy my neighbour. If you are wondering why I wasn’t in Paris too, then I should remind you that I had an unplanned Triple Heart Bypass a couple of months ago etc.

My neighbour was digging, so I asked my neighbour was she going to plant potatoes. Mary replied that she was not, her Irish accent growing stronger, I had annoyed her straight away. She joked that she might hit me with the shovel, so not be annoying her, as she wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Mary is sophisticated that way, the perfect foil to her rugby playing doctor boyfriend. She digs potatoes, while he breaks limbs on the rugby field, but sets them afterwards, he is a doctor after all.

I mentioned to Mary that the garden fence was flapping in the wind and it could come flying off and hit me. Mary leant on her shovel and spat on a worm that had wriggled to the surface. A bold magpie swooped down and had the worm a la spit, a perfect snack for a magpie. “I’ll add it to me list” she replied.

I have the knack for improvising, years in a computer room and in a hotel makes improvising second nature. So I told Mary I would help fix the fence, I went back inside my own house and returned with some elastics. “Is that knicker elastic?” laughed Mary. It did look somewhat similar, in fact it came from a mattress topper. Now it would fix the fence and save it from flying off and hitting me.

S

o I threaded the elastic through a hole in one of the fence boards, then I told Mary to tie a knot in another not knicker elastic, and finally in a 3^rd piece of not knicker elastic. Once this was done we tied it around a fence pole. Hey Presto the fence panel was secured and thanks to the not knicker elastic the gap in the fence disappeared.

I gave Mary a cup of tea over the fence as a reward, only I put sugar in it, I’m diabetic screamed Mary clutching her throat. I’ll ring for an ambulance I said. Then she started to laugh, she liked pulling tricks on me. I decided I had enough sun and Mary for the day so I went back inside, besides Sky News was on, I couldn’t miss that what with the Election being on.

Funny or Not

Funny or Not ©

By Michael Casey

just read in the DT that it’s so hard for comedy writers at the BBC, there has to be a committee to decide what is funny or not. Though this is really a PC committee, God Help Us. I know a little about the subject, as I try and write humour in the main. Oh No You Don’t I can hear in reply, in best Panto tradition.

Humour is all about timing, and I know about that too, Oh No You Don’t I can hear you all mutter as you chew on your Easter eggs. I also know about pain, thanks to my Arthur and my Triple Heart Bypass. You deserve all that pain, just for posting all that “humour” I can hear you mutter as chocolate dribbles down your face this Easter Sunday.

Let’s assume I do know what I’m talking about, don’t choke on your Easter eggs, on second thoughts do, I can’t talk to you while you are sniping. So as I sit here talking to you, a few spasms of pain rippling through me, you are quietly choking on your settee, so I’ll just say thank you for not interrupting.

I spent 3 years at a 4 star business hotel, the CPNEC, so I had plenty of time to practice talking to people. Robin would always lean over the reception desk and ask “what did you say, why are they laughing?” Then when I explained what I’d just said he never quite got it. Why? Because of the timing, you have to be there to understand otherwise the “moment” is lost. It’s all in the timing. Some unkind people on the desk said “Michael’s doing his routine” it was no routine it was personality. You can continue choking on your Easter egg, I will not be interrupted any more.

I saw and maybe spoke to 100,000 guests during my time at the hotel. So that’s why I can boast, or rather state I have experience. I started writing back in 1987, so my view on life goes back to then, prior to the writing I spent 20 years listening constantly to BBC Radio4. I would encourage any parent to glue their child’s radio to BBC Radio4.

Writing is all about observation, some may not see the humour in the world around them. I was in the queue at Iceland yesterday there was a very tall lady paying for her frozen peas. It wasn’t frozen peas but it reads better and funnier by saying frozen peas. Anyway she gets her purse out and what’s on her purse? The design is giraffes, a tall lady with a giraffe purse. I told my wife and small daughter when I got home and they laughed. Now if you are not smiling at the very least then all I can say is that you really should choke on your Easter egg, because you are already dead.

We all go about our daily lives with our eyes closed, if we open them we can see the humour all around us. Look in the mirror do you laugh at yourself? I do. Look at your family and see God’s gift to you, it makes me laugh, I had stood by the fridge and cried and prayed for a family, and what did I get? You can google me and find the family photos for yourself, just google “michaelgcasey” Then you can see God’s sense of humour.

As for words and stories they build a picture and can bring laughter, lots of laughter. You just have to be slow about it, give the words space to breath. There is nothing worse than being too fast, than a smart Alec interrupting and killing the flow of the story. At this point in time in our family, the wife has a new car, my daughters are getting a kitten, and what did I get?

Triple Heart Bypass surgery. Thanks God. But seriously I should thank God because I’m still alive and can see my children grow up. I used to sing and scream out the song Blasphemous Rumours by Depeche Mode when I was on the night shift maybe 25 years ago. The line in the song goes “And when I die I’ll see God laughing” And you know what? I bet that’s exactly what will happen.