The Newspaper That is Your Life

The Newspaper That is Your Life ©

By Michael Casey

Ok, it really does sound the most pretentious of all titles, I was waiting for the Sky Press preview to start and I hadn’t thought of a topic to talk about to you tonight, then it came to me 5 mins ago. The Newspaper That is Your Life came to me, so this is what I’ll try and talk about, I’ve just realised this is the Just a Minute school of writing. If you Google Just a Minute and find some to listen to then you really are in for a treat. Whether or not what I write tonight is a treat you can tell me at the end.

So what are your headlines? Michael is seen partying the night away, here he is looking drunk and dishevelled, in fact some might say that is my normal look till I’ve had my breakfast and morning heart meds. Stop press we can announce that Michael hung out all the washing yesterday, only he forgot to bring it in before Storm David struck. So his neighbours have a large collection of saggy bottomed drawers and faded clothes, too worn out even for the Charity Shop. In the old days you dried your washing on the bushes, now Michael Casey’s washing is on the roofs and  sheds not to mention the dirt of flower beds.

What would be your biggest headlines? Meeting the girl of your dreams, or getting the prettiest girl in the office to go out with you. Was it because you both got drunk at the office party, and she got pregnant, so she ended up marrying you.

 Or was it because you really were a nice guy, despite your dandruff and bad breath. You were there to listen to her when her mum died, you were that shoulder to cry on. And no you didn’t take advantage of her, quiet the reverse, and that made her love you all the more. She did insist that you used Head and Shoulders shampoo, and you always had 2 boxes of tic-tacs in your pocket. But then you really fell in love and on the anniversary of her mum’s death you got engaged.

Simple Silly things are the Headlines of our lives. Like finally getting the right medication that will change your life, or getting contacts and a decent haircut. There are turning points in our lives, which we will mark with banner headlines in the Newspaper That is Our Life. Hearing from your wife that she is pregnant when you both thought she could not have a child. Crying with joy in the computer room where you were working when she told you the news. Your workmates being embarrassed but you were so happy, you wanted to look to the very stars and SCREAM. You can imagine the photo and the Caption Michael Casey will be a DAD.

There are sad times too, where you want to screw the Newspaper that is Your Life into a ball and throw it into the fire, or tear it into a thousand pieces. When you cry and all the ink runs off the pages and turns your hands black. You just wish Newspapers did not exist. I’ve been down that road several times, and that explains when I try and stick to Comedy to Humour, because it hides the pain, and deflects the sadness away. Then the Newspaper that is my life is turned into a cartoon, into a stupidity, into a joke, till even I cannot remember what made me cry before.

And on it goes, little things and silly things, big images and small images, and the images that matter, until finally our grave, the final image, the final headline. But if you ever come to my grave in the far distant future, if you do bend down and listen then you may hear me laughing. What a fool coming to my grave, he should have gone to the pub, not unless I get my final wish, to be buried in a pub. A place of merriment and laughter.