Choosing is So very hard to do

Choosing is so hard to Do ©

By Michael Casey

Choice is such a strange thing, the more choice we have the more difficult it is for us. If we don’t have any choice then we complain, you can have any colour you like so long as it is Black is what Henry Ford said, didn’t do his business any harm. The hardest thing I do every day is pick what to talk about, hoping the well doesn’t run dry, this story will be number 815 I think, I don’t keep a tally but Blogger does, that’s the only way  I know, I’m up to 912,000 words now as well, I don’t sit here with an abacus counting, Word just tells me.

Choice spoils us and ruins us, my other daily activity is visiting Aldi and doing my walk, you are supposed to walk, or exercise after your surgery to keep your heart pumping. Other exercises with  female Korean Pop stars would be better, but as I look like the Gangham Style singer that won’t happen and my Shanghai wife would not approve, she’d just laugh herself silly at the very thought of it. I’m so fat as she tells me constantly, just because I’m nearly 3 times her weight.

Back to choice, if you have more choice you just cannot decide what is best, or if you are me you pick something and stick with it till you are sick of it, and then you make another choice. I did eat lettuce and prawn sandwiches for years and years in my computer room days. Barry got scared of going down to collect the sandwiches as the lady in the sandwich shop had designs on his body, so in the end I went down all the time. The sandwich lady thought Barry would be the perfect filling for her, with a dash of pickle on top. She always needed a man to come around and help her put shelves up. She must have had more shelving than the British Library.

Clothes are a big choice especially for women, what style or colour should you wear. You must never wear the same outfit as anybody else, and shoes, can only go with this or that outfit. Men are such idiots not to know what a big difference a colour makes. As for me I can sometimes be like the man in the film The Fly, I have 5 or 6 outfits exactly the same. Or in my case trousers are blue and my shoes are all brown, Clarks of course but all brown, shoes are cheaper if you choose brown, besides the days of me wearing formal black shoes are long over. So the choice I make is to be exactly the same, though I do add a splash of colour, then again the days of me wearing my orange polo are gone, see photo attached so you can wave it goodbye.

Some choices you don’t like, but they have to be made, do you tell the Truth or Lie, Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil my mum used to say with a promise not to hit you. That’s where my morality comes from, and if you look at the picture attached to this story you can see where mum’s Faith comes from, 1920s Cromane Lower Kerry Eire. A choice should always be the right choice for you, never follow the herd, it’s always better to die as you lived, never accept the rule of lemmings.

The final choice is when you pre-book your funeral, as my parents did, the undertaker takes you up to the cemetery so you can view where you will be for all Eternity. Only you end up with your neighbours following you even to resting in peace around the corner from you, which may or may not be a blessing. Personally I don’t want to be buried in a filing cabinet which rack and stacks the last mortal remains of people.

So to be modern you can all start a hashtag Bury Michael Casey in Trinity Road Churchyard. This is in actual fact a closed graveyard, it is right next to the Sikh temple, the biggest in Europe, and opposite Brasshouse  Lane where my dad worked in the steel works for 40 years. It has road, rail, and canals passing by, and when I go if I make it as a big writer then folks can visit. Before you all start the hashtag, I would like to live as many years as possible first, though one or two of you may choose to start the hashtag as soon as possible. But that’s your choice.