The Music Collection
The Music Collection
well I’ve written many pieces about Music, even though I cannot sing, or play, I just like Music. I did meet Eric Clapton, and Alice Cooper, Nickelbacker, Richard Clayderman, Will Young, and a few others when I worked at a hotel. I even made Eric Clapton laugh.
So I’ve decided to dump my Music Box all in one place tonight. It’s too late to write anything new tonight, as my small daughter has just finished revising MacBeth or the Scottish Play if you are superstitious. Though it may be 6am before sleep descends due to my rampant Tinnitus.
So let the music play:-
1.
New Hifi (10years ago)
always like a bit of music while I’m working on another piece of writing.
I grew up listening to Eric Clapton thanks to my bigger brothers, then 30 years later I met Eric Clapton in a hotel.
I have also gone to see 100s of live bands too.
So though I cannot play an instrument I know what sounds good.
The Pioneer X HM10 looks good and I just plugged a UBS stick in and away it went. I did not change any settings at all. The rich sound that resonates around my front room was really great. I’ve put the hifi on top of a bookcase behind me. The sound is of such great quality, filling my spirit just as must as the piano we have behind me too. Its a little fiddly getting use to the small remote, but all in all I’d say just buy one. As simple as that, and yes 2 x 15w speakers are more than enough to “Let it Grow, let it grow let it blossom, let it grow” if I can quote Eric Clapton’s old song.
2.
Music Matters (c)
by Michael Casey
Sir Simon Rattle has announced that he will leave as chief conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra after his contract expires in 2018. says BBC news. I once saw him conduct here in Birmingham, he wears slippers when he conducts. It took me a while to understand what a conductor does. Basically to use my daughter’s favourite word, basically the conductor is trying to get the orchestra to produce the same sound as he has in his head, he’s coaxing them to perfection. I then think any conductor dashes off and has a quick 3 pints of Stella before returning to applause and to do an encore. The cellists they have a battle to see if they can put each other off. The violinist looks a little bored and it trying to remember did he bring his washing in or out, and why does his white hair look so wild. And the audience is relieved that no more Bartok is being played, just MOZART thank God.
3.
As ever I return to Music, A Surreal Version ©
By
Michael Casey
If you have been reading my stuff for a while then you will know that I like a bit of music, sometimes I listen till dawn before I am able to sleep so it is great company. As is the BBC World service which plays in the Radio4 slot during the night time hours.
I’ve found a stack of stuff online so I’ll be listening to that, my own record collection is mainly 80s and 90s so the newer stuff will be a bit more varied. Or it will be the remastered versions of my old stuff, marriage and kids put paid to having any new CDs decades ago. So online free stuff, with or without annoying adverts is what I’ll be listening to.
Timberlake is of course great, even if he did steal all my dance steps. Stealing from a 248 pound dancer such as I, has Timberlake got no shame? I’ll hide my mirror, next time he’ll have to dance without his own reflection there to help and guide him. You just watch him stumble, as if I tied his shoelaces together.
Seal is dancing outside, can you hear him rapping on my front door. Snoop has taken my dog for a walk, so Pink is making pancakes for us all, such a nice girl, and a great pancake maker. As for Lionel Richie he is of no use whatsoever, he just dances all over my ceiling. Adele is just crying in the corner, she hasn’t mastered how to switch on my washing machine. When my Musical Heroes come around they could at least be helpful. The Corrs just hang around on the corner outside, just making rude gestures through my window, and I thought they were such nice girls. Though they could just be gesturing how many cups of tea they need, I really must get my eyes tested.
The Queen is coming later on, or did they say May come later, I cannot keep up they speak so fast. I told him the stars look so great from my garden, so May said he’d come, he is an astrologer now, he has a PhD now in Aston Villa, or Astro Turf, of Astrophysics or something with an astro in, or was it Aston Martin, they earn so much money after all. Why don’t they all just take the bus. And look at the stars from the top deck of the number 11.
Seal is singing that I’m his baby, and I’ll still be loved. That’s so nice, he’s such a caring man. But enough of him, he’s dancing in the corner with Theresa May. She is of course Brian May’s secret sister, they were split at birth you know. When Theresa was dancing in Africa what she really was doing was pretending to be her brother strumming on his guitar, that’s why she didn’t move much she was afraid of falling over the invisible electrical cable. She could have been in Queen too but she got lost on the way to the audition, Geography was never her strong point.
So she became leader of the Tories instead, she could have been in the Darkness instead with the tight leotards and the high pitch singing. Instead she watches Black Rod enviously, the way he twirls his stick would remind you of dear old Freddie. It reminds her of Freddie Truman, the cricket legend, Theresa’s musical education does need a bit of help. Which reminds me to the Commons’ Disco. Frank has left the Field tonight to set up the coconut shy, where you can throw white feathers at photos of various politicians. Something to do with moral cowardice I believe
But what music will they play for Politicians? Stand By your Man, and Don’t Take your Love to Town are perennial favorites for Politicians. As is The Politician by Cream. Abba’s The Winner Takes it All is also a firm Political favorite, along with The Windmills of your Mind, as nobody can ever explain where the latest White Elephant came from. Too much time spent in cheap bars, no not in sleazy parts, just in the Commons bars.
Seal is still singing, he needs a bit of help so I’m going to give him a bit of help now, then maybe he can fly like an eagle and avoid flying into the sea. And speaking of sea, where do seagulls from the seaside go for their holidays? BIRMINGHAM and we are the furthest spot from sea. Hang on Totoro my cat has spotted a seagull she may just launch herself from the garden fence.
I have to peel the potatoes for tomorrow’s dinner now, and I have to harvest the rice from our paddy field outside, fresh food is a must for a Shanghai/Birmingham family. Seal, can you stop the dad dancing and I’ll show you some really cool moves, so if ever you bump into Obama or Opera, the Double Os as they call themselves, then you can show them both how to dance. Irish dancing is the the only way to dance, I’ll even lend you my old tights.
Hey you Corrs come off that street corner and come on over, and bring Shania too, we’ve got some jigging to do, the maybe Seal can finally regain his street cred, and be good enough to dance with Theresa May at the Commons Ball at Frank’s Fields.
4.
As Ever I return to Music (c)
By
Michael Casey
Well I’m trying a different word processor so forgive any mistakes, it looks darker like an old fashioned newspaper, with the print, the ink coming off on your fingers. I don’t know if I like it yet, it’s Abi Word you can try it for yourself, as Vangelis plays in the background. Which brings me to today’s talk, as ever I return to Music. I do always return to Music, yes with a capital M, it plays a most important part in my life. As does talking to you, some would say writing is my therapy, the Cards amongst you would say if you read Michael Casey then YOU need therapy, you are all so cruel. The Card was a book by Arnold Bennett and a nice film in 1952 as well, so go read or watch that if you have had enough of me already, have a Guinness too, a Sir Alec Guinness.
So what’s it with music, as a Chinese theme plays through the speakers. Well its the thing that binds us all together, it is a heart beat, the internal tick of time that plays through our lives. I remember this or that or even the other when a certain track was playing, or an entire Barry White double album when me and my lady got acquainted. Music is the rhythm to our lives, the beat, the slow slow quick quick slow as we dance through our lives, or enjoy Barry White with somebody we love.
In times of trouble when your heart is broken maybe after you smashed his Barry White collection because, well just because. Then you retreat to the bathroom or the sofa somewhere to cry. But as these gentle tears fall you just need a bit of loving and compassion. So you play your dad’s Nat King Cole, because Nat was a gentleman, and as those tears fall his voice is brushing your hair, and wiping those tears away, your love may have met its Waterloo, but you’ll survive because you have the eye of a tiger. So you play I will survive, and the winner takes it all, cos your mate is a divorce lawyer, so you smile.
I’ve digressed as usual, but its the winding road that makes the story, the long and winding road that leads us all home. Music is a special place in our hearts, it soothes us, it reminds us. Celine Dion was singing on the radio the night my mother died so now her song Because you Loved Me, has a powerful reminder and effect on us all. I just put it on the speakers and I’m almost crying now as I talk to you, so that is the power in music. I’ll stop and listen to the song.
We each have a song that makes us happy or brings on the tears, or coaxes us back to the right path. Grannie would bribe us with sweets when we sulked, and we’d listen to the radio with her, so now when we hear that song we think of grannie too. So when she was even older you made sure she had the best DAB radio money could buy so that she was not all alone in the old people’s home.
Music is Love, if you think about it, it really is true, maybe explains why Mick Jagger is still dancing in the street, or why musicians always had groupies, music is a magnet, as is musicians’ large back list. None of us can live in silence. Silence is loneliness, silence is even pain, we all need music in remembrance of love, of kindness, of hope. If ever you have walked through an accountancy firm it’s like walking through the valley of the death, they don’t talk, yet they exist.
So when they leave the office it’s like a fart exploding with noise and relief. To be able to speak, to listen to music, to dance in the street even. We all need to escape into music, to be swept along by the rhythm and the beat. Even if it is only Agadoo, though we may be blind drunk and desperately looking for the toilet, through that big gold handbag will do, Laura Kuenssberg shouldn’t leave it lying about.
Earlier I was listening to a piece by Sky and I imagined a chase through a woods to rescue a child from a kidnapper, the ending to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker in fact, the undertaker praying he’d not have to bury the little Indian Princess, the butcher vowing to kill the kidnapper, the baker cursing his dog for chasing squirrels. Then as the music plays in my imagination I can see the result, all played out to music, such overpowering music. Yes that is the power of music, in fact Betty’s son writes film music I believe, while I dream my comic novel makes it to the screen, 5 years ago a low budget film producer did take a look.
So as Vangelis plays chariots of fire in slow motion, my dreams are in slow motion waiting to hit the floor and accelerate. So it’s time to finish so there is only one track I can play Windmills of my Mind from the Thomas Crown Affair, or maybe Queen’s I want it all and I want it now…
5.
Music is God’s Mood Music ©
By
Michael Casey
I was wondering what to write today, I had a 2nd pain night in a row and this morning I had to go and have a fasting blood test. So my belly wasn’t happy, so I got the early bus to the doctors. Then as the sun was shining I thought I’d walk back, and do a bit of shopping on the way home before breaking my fast at breakfast. This is normal the world over, but for me my body says, GOTCHA, when I get home and then my shoulder decides to get in on the act. But at least my scan for my shoulder pain, arthritis hurts the most in that location, arrived from the hospital. I bore you with this information but its the price you pay for the stories.
Now to today, I’ve been trying Spotify out with Mood Music, my small daughter said I should follow her so I’ve picked up on a few of her tracks. I’ve been listening to Voilin stuff and its good, but now after an hour it begins to feel like a funeral so pardon me a moment while I switch back to Abba’s The Visitors. You can put Abba on while you read the rest of this and so you can feel what was in the air as I talk to you, but not too loud as I don’t want to shout over bell-bottomed trousered boys and girls.
Mood really is influenced by Music. I must dance to the kitchen for a bun, so you dance to Abba’s The Visitors on Spotify, while I try not to trip over Totoro our as I reach for the bread bin. Well the French croissants were very good, I also had a cup of tea too, you lot looked so happy Head over Heels with Abba so I left you too it. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi are Dad Dancing in the corner, they are a bit tired they were babysitting all night. Babysitting a Still, they are making Poteen in Warley Woods up the road. But stranger things have happened there, as Patrick and June can blush about. Or in the War American troops hid there, a local road was made bigger so tanks could come through.
Where was I, yes, drinking my tea, the phone rang too, it was the Witch with some news, it put me off my stride. See The Dark Night has Come Down on Us sings Gerry Rafferty, I had to change the music, I needed to change my mood, the arthritis is coming out to play right now. So let me continue with a different backing music. Yes if the music is too vibrant I may just do dad dancing with Lech, Boris and Gregorgi so I have to watch what I listen too. JM Jarre is very good for mood music in a story I have in my head, the chase and rescue sequence at the end of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker if ever I can sell it to a film person. However when I’m talking to you all, I prefer company while I write these talks, this goes back to 1974 when I was all alone in the homework room and Music was my company.
So as we all know Music does effect us, and we all have a favourite song, mine is Windmills of Your Mind from the Thomas Crown Affair, the one with Steve McQueen, no doubt you are not surprised, as I am forever tilting at windmills. I was in fact called Sancho Panza, the fat servant of Don Quixote by our priest, as I followed my tall brother around everywhere. The priest is now Bishop Brain, and I am still fat, but I do speak a bit of Spanish, and I am now a writer. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi are laughing now, I don’t know if its because of what I said, or maybe they just love Cervantes.
Music does augment our moods, just as a little wine relaxes us, or chocolate if you are a girl, girls prefer Cadburys to men, so if you are on a first date always bring chocolate, this is the key to Romance. Barry White is big, of course he is but his music does things that only Barry White can do. Now you can pick your own music, some of you may be Bee Gees fans, whatever gets you and your Lady in the mood. Some people prefer heavy metal, some love the drum beat, a friend of my daughter’s is in fact a drummer. So music leads to love.
Other music is favoured for studying, calming mood music perhaps, ambient music, music without words. So you are not lonely as I was back in 1974, as you do your last year before exams. As you pace the study room, our old middle room, and pluck your eyebrows as you learn French vocabulary. Music is a rhythm it’s like our mum’s heartbeat that we hear in the dark of the womb, it reassures, it give us confidence. We are not all alone in the dark.
God was lonely that’s why he created us, he’ll tell you this in due course. So after he created us he was amused that we created Music, by beating the arm bone on the skull of dinner. While somebody watched, who later became a writer, but first a cave painter. And on it goes we create more music because it gives us a Buzz and makes us feel High, and closer to God, or maybe that was just the Far Out Hippies in the 60s. Music does heighten our senses, and if the Black Watch are approaching with the Piper playing it does put the Fear of God into the enemy.
So how does God feel about all this, he just wishes we’d just talk, Music is great, He has the greatest hifi in the universe after all, and he has Angels singing. All kinds of everything fill Heaven, Shona Choirs are a particular favourite of his, as is Mozart, Sinatra is there too. You could not possibly imagine the range of Music that is in High Heaven. And yes they are high because everybody is there, free of want and pain. They have taken the elevator to heaven, without the boring elevator music. Imagine all your best bands and styles of music, but maybe not Harry Styles, yet.
And what music does God prefer the most? It’s very simple really, its like a stream of life, it’s like fresh water itself. God loves the sound of laughter, that’s the most beautiful music in eternity.
6.
Discovering Music (c)
By
Michael Casey
I entered a random search on Spotify, Pio, and I’m amazed by what I’m hearing. First was The Maccabees and Marks to Prove It, now I’m listening to Interpol and Our Love to Admire, both are really excellent. I won’t go down the track list grooving away as I listen to each song. It just proves new things can be discovered, even by random means. And why did I enter Pio? Well because I was thinking about Padre Pio, I’m in a lot of pain this morning so I thought I could empathize with him.
There’s a peaceful piano piece playing now, and it’s not from my neighbour next door, nor have my daughters decided to play the piano beside me, so I’ve stumbled my way into something nice, and if you remembered the story yesterday, Mark Harris said I was a good stumbler. If I mention his name ever again in a story then you’ll all have to buy him free Stella Artois for life, but don’t forget the Walkers cheese and onion crisps, he does have standards after all, unlike me, what you see is what you get.
So why is music is so special? I am tempted to share the obvious joke about the Jewish drummer being so good at the rhythm method being made an honorary catholic. But you can ignore that sentence if you have no Jewish nor Catholic friends, or if you have 2 left feet, or are tone deaf, or just deaf, or have no sense of humour or are too PC. Or are a Politician not knowing which way to jump.
Politicians should be good with music as they try and march to the beat of history. Led Zepplin would have been great Politicians but their fans would be too drunk to do any marching or following. The Germans in the 1930s just loved a good tune and marching, and see how that turned out.Now we have the cheese eater in North Korea and his people just love to march, but they are marching to stay alive, not for fun. Back in the West we have Trump’s inauguration .
Nobody wants to sing for Trump, though Putin has offered to sing for him, he’ll even roll over and let Trump rub his belly, Pavlov dog if you like, but who would be the real master? The Russian State Singers and Dancers might . Perhaps we’ll have the Russian Ballet come too, or the North Korean ensemble could come too. An international peace and reconciliation inauguration, Trump could say it was all part of his plan.
What will the music be like? Martial, Loud and Proud, a bit like a Friday night in a gay bar, but not half as much fun, no Abba, no fun. There’s a thought perhaps Abba should be asked to perform, everybody loves Abba after all. Abba for Trump’s inauguration, we could start a hashtag. Though somehow I think they would not turn up. So a Tribute band will have to do, these tribute bands can be really really good. I saw the conterfeit Stones once at the Alex in Birmingham, now they were excellent.
So together we have sorted out Trump’s inauguration show. It will be a series of tribute bands from Vegas, the National Mall is so big that nobody will spot the difference. As for Trump he may have a stand in for himself, he’s not going to stand around in the cold, he may even stay home in NY while everything else goes on in DC. Mike Pence can catch a cold, or Donald may just play video games with Barron, then just dash out for the oath. Or he may just pay Alec Baldwin to do the whole show, 1,400 dollars is cheap price to pay then he can have some precious time with Barron.
So I hope you will all try Pio as a Spotify search, you could read about Padre Pio too, the music is really good, and all new to me, but best of all together we have sorted out the Music for Trump’s Inauguration. See I am a really good stumbler, will somebody please buy Mark Harris a pint of Stella Artois, he’s singing Abba songs again, I’m off to my Waterloo.
7.
Mood Music ©
By Michael Casey
It’s been a few days since I wrote something, so here’s something new, for those of you in Russia, Portugal, Spain as well as the USA and here in the UK. I’ve been looking at my stats so I know where you are. Stats MR was in fact the original name of the company I worked for before ACNielsen bought us up. Music was a big part of our working life.
We had a Ghetto Blaster which we put on top of the computer, which were as big as wardrobes back in 1978, yes that long ago. Then we’d hit play and the music played all nightshift long, I’m still playing some of that music. Depeche Mode and REM were introduced to me over the decade plus that we had to work nights. Before Dark Room beckoned, and no Dark Room was not a band, it just meant that both the computers could be trusted not to crash and the printers had an auto stacker.
Music does get you in the mood, or make things more palatable, so a bit of music while you work does help. Arthur Askey had Workers Playtime on the Radio you can google that for yourselves. If the job is dire, and you can pick your own definition of dire, then listening to music does cheer you up and make time pass faster.
Supermarkets and Hotels and even lifts, or elevators if you are American, have music, as Life without Music is like being in a mortuary, though I admit I have not had that once in a life or is it death experience yet. The energy and the bounce of music is the pulse of Life itself and so its presence is like our own blood circulating.
They say that music helps study, and no it’s not our kids saying the Beatles or the Stones or Cream helped them study, literally. It’s the sound of music, and I don’t mean Julie Andrews either, it’s the sound of music that does something to our brain. So we are more receptive and happier, they used to say whistle while you work after all.
My brother did have Cream music help him get into Oxford, and then the same music through the same speaker got another brother into Cambridge. As for me, I have the same speaker, now nearly 50 years old, and I met Eric Clapton, I only went to Oxford on the train.
My own daughter listens to Classical music and other strange sounds on her phone, which is her excuse for being on it so much. However she recently got 100%, 100% and 96% in Chemistry, Biology and IT. So either Classical music works or she’s very clever, though my teacher brother always says to his students make sure you sit next to somebody clever.
So all in all music is company, it does soothe the savage beast. When my brother went to work at a coal mine in Newbold Vernon for a year, a gap year before they were invented, before he went to Cambridge, I was all alone in the homework room, and it was music which was my company.
Folkweave was on then I seem to remember, as was Radio 2 with all kinds of everything. Music is a friend as is radio itself, it’s in the room with you, it’s in bed with you, it’s even in the bath with you. And if you are lucky enough to love a musician you’ve both got rhythm.
8.
Music v Words(c)
Vangelis does film music. I’m listening to some now. So how can a few notes stir us so much? From the age of cave men music has touched us, I’d kill my best mate, then I’d mate with his girl, after dinner, his body we’d play with his bones then realise what a great beat you can get by banging his arm bone on the top of his skull. Now this must have been when drumming began, Buddy Rich’s forebears.That’s when music entered our collective mind. As the bones mounted up, we discovered different sounds, and so many years later the fluke of whistle was discovered by using different selections of bones that had holes in them. But back to Vangelis how can he make us feek, really feel just by a collection of noise that becomes notes. Power is invested in notes, love is invested in notes. I was talking to my new neighbour and her mum recently and I was saying just how jealous I am of muscians. My neighbour plays violin, and my own girls are leaning piano. My point though is that in seconds a noise, a tuneful noise can touch our hearts and our very souls. Me if I write something here and say Elaine likes it that is very touching, but its slow. A writer needs 30 seconds to touch somebody’s soul, as thats the reading time, as for music, its like drugs straight to the heart, as immediate as what the doctor injects to a heart attack victim. So I am and always will be in awe of muscians. Chung Kuo is playing on the Vangelis album now and I can feel my heart stiring.I am a meer writer, I will never be a muscian. Sometimes as I sit here I dream another section of what will be Tears for a Butcher, I dream of the music that will go with it if ever it becomes a film, or as I listen to music I think yes that will go well with that scene I have in my head. Words on a page are an idea, but add a bit of music then you have passion. Perhaps I am being the director and musical arranger as I write a new scene or dream of a new scene. I cannot at the moment commit myself to a year of writing another book, if you like I am lazy and post here twice a week instead. Vangelis is playing The Tao of Love now, he is fillling my mind and heart with pictures, because he is music and I am only words.
9.
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.
10.
Pink Floyd, Music and Me Oct 15, ’09 9:30 AM (yes 10 years ago)
for everyone
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. Thats 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 trycical 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 writtern 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.
11.
Tinnitus Rings in the Changes ©
By
Michael Casey
Well my Tinnitus seems to be getting worse, or rather feels worse, or should I say sounds worse, especially at night. I do get to talk to God more,Oh God let me sleep. My mother used to say, say the Rosary if you cannot sleep. So I’ve tried that too, as well as listening to the BBC World Service on the radio, it is very good actually, so give it a try if you find yourself all alone in the middle of no sleep. Otherwise cuddle your girl or boy, why listen to the BBC?
So is Tinnitus, the ringing in my ears some form of call to Prayer? God really does have wicked sense of humour.It can drive you to your wits end, or it could if I were witty and not just a half wit. You are so cruel you don’t respect your writer, you should be giving me a ringing endorsement. Less of the ringing and more of the dorsement which is some kind of German support used in buildings, or a flying buttress used to keep my underpants up.
Alarm bells would ring should my dorsement fail and my flying buttocks be all exposed, firm but over large. Can somebody turn those alarm bells off, oh they are off, it’s just my Tinnitus. Ah well I’m used to it by now. In the day its a gentle static forever noising in my ear, it would be quite Romantic, like the waves breaking on the beach at Cromane in Ireland. Only you cannot stop the static, maybe there should be a Protest March, stop the static in Michael’s attic. Though I doubt if the Middle Classes would march for me as they leave their litter everywhere, especially outside the Daily Mail. And the chances of me me being somebody’s Daily Male, I can only dream of. But these are just symbols crashing in my head amongst the 1970s jokes.
I used to listen to music all the time, now I listen to symbols all the time, like Buddie Rich with his egg whisk. There is a story about him playing with just one arm due to injury and he was still fantastic. If I could catch him I’d break his other arm, just for a chance of some Peace. He’s in Heaven now doing his Rhythm Method, he’s so good he hangs out with the Catholics, it’s a band of Angels.
You do get used to the hiss, but you really do need to have something making noise as well, to kind of distract yourself. Just as you distract a child before the Doctor puts the needle in. I did actually kick and punch our GP, Dr Hickman, I was 4 and it was the booster needle prior to starting school. Generally though daytime is ok.
Night time is the worst for Tinnitus as the ambient noise level is so low, or even zero if you have a padded cell, Monks have all the fun. In my case I have some music on to takeaway the Tinnitus, which is 4 times louder at least in the night. Sadly as nice as the music is, recently it’s been of no avail, and nuns don’t dress up any more. So I hear 100 tracks through the night before dawn seduces me, and it’s not Dawn either, but daybreak. Dawn seduces me with sleep as I am so exhausted.
And yes every 2 hours my ckd kicks in, so even if I finally get to sleep I awake every two hours. Yes it’s a strange life, or existence. But at least I can Write, so I’m glad of that. You may wish I didn’t bother, but for me it’s all I can do so I rejoice in it. So here’s the moral of the story just as Star Trek used to have morals. We are all different playing many parts in life’s orchestra, sometimes we conduct our own life, other times we are sat on the side. Sometimes the conductor allows us to play all the instruments like a one man band, or some really clever musician like Mike Oldfield doing everything himself. Sometimes all we do is play the triangle and hit just one note. Whatever your talent, make that one note, the best you can make it.
12.
I’m Setting Up a Band ©
By
Michael Casey
The Pope was cursing, he had had enough, those Heathens were just that Heathens. He just wanted a quiet life, all alone with his Rosary, maybe it was Divine Inspiration, or maybe God was playing a trick, it couldn’t be a dream it was more like a living nightmare. But this is what happened.
Donald Trump said he’d resign immediately if Putin did too, he did have his fingers crossed behind his back, and Fox did show his fingers. Francis, Pope Francis was watching the BBC, for the sake of his sanity, when he heard Donald Trump make yet another lie. Francis looked up at the Cross on the wall, Lord if Trump and Putin both resigned now that might be a good thing. But it’s more likely that I resign too, and what would the 3 of us do then, form a Rock Band like in the Blues Brothers.
Francis liked that film, especially when the Nun hits the boys with a ruler for swearing. Francis smiled, Rahm Emanuel is leaving Chicago soon, perhaps he should be our manager. There is always a Jewish manager in pop bands, Francis smiled again.
Now God works in mysterious ways, and as he was tending to a junkie who had just entered the Gates of Heaven, washing his feet and kissing his track marks and then putting his a white suit like a 60s band member, well God thought it would be a bit of fun. So a dream, the same dream entered Putin’s and Trump’s mind. The next day simultaneously they invited the other to Birmingham England, God loved the surreal so it just had to be Birmingham. The Press corps thought Trump was on drugs, but as they laughed, and Jon Sopal led the chorus of REALLY? The news came in that Putin had just made the same comments. In actual fact, when they checked the announcement had been made simultaneously.
Was Putin on drugs too, was there Collusion? Trump winged it, I had a dream last night, much better than what’s his name’s dream, yes Queen, I mean King. In the dream it said meet Putin in Birmingham. Barron my son said he’s like to look at the Pre-Raphaelites, whatever they are. He wants to meet Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades too, he’s in Birmingham. Though it’s more likely the Secret Service will just shave his head and make a wig for that loser, Jeff Bezo, that’ll teach him and his failing Washington Post.
I like that idea myself, but Jeff’s wig would be no match for my mane. And that’ll teach Casey to respect THE PRESIDENT, Trump reached for his phone to tweet that bit. The entire Press Corps reached for their phones to read what he had just Twittered. Jon Sopal ran from the room laughing and in search of a fresh pair of trousers, he’d just pissed himself laughing. There was a rush for the men’s room, Trump was left alone rambling.
In Russia Putin said he had had a dream too, he was naked and riding a horse through woods, the trees swayed and turned into displays of watches hanging from every tree branch. It was a metaphor to remind him that as great as he looked on his horse one day his time would be up. Just as Autumn leaves fell, as the watches started to drop off Putin realised he only had so much time, his secret heart problem would in the end kill him. So he would meet Trump in Birmingham, he knew what Pre-Raphaelites were and he’d enjoy looking at them. He might even bring an Easter egg to the museum, a jewelled one. He’d get to taste Cadburys chocolate eggs too, what more could any Russian want?
The Pope was asked was this Divine Intervention, he just joked was that some American singer. But in his heart Francis knew what he had to do. He must go to Birmingham and jump out of a Confessional and persuade the two of them to resign immediately. Maybe then the world would stand a chance, he would trick them by saying, if you both resign I’ll resign too, and we can form a Rock Band. He’d had a phone call from Theresa May the night before, after she’d stopped swearing he said maybe she could resign and become a lead singer in a rock band. She laughed, if you get Putin and Trump to do it, then I’ll do it. Francis got her to say it 3 times and he recorded it, Nixon learnt everything he knew about taping from his old priest after all. All Francis had to do was to sneak into Birmingham cathedral, and then pounce, he’d record everything with his bodycam and then upload it to the Web. Then both Trump and Putin would have to resign. And to keep his bargain with God so would he, and Theresa May could be the lead singer. In Paradise the junkie laughed till he cried, am I still on drugs Lord? Yes, it’s called God’s Love, the only drug worth having.
Francis had a problem, he couldn’t get a flight to Birmingham, everything was booked, all the world was coming to Birmingham. Luckily he had a friend with a balloon, Richard Branson was his name. Richard explained his balloon would not be fast enough, but he had a friend called Musk or something. Now this friend loved rockets, so if they strapped a rocket to the basket then they’d get there much faster than 80 days. Francis gave Musk some scented candles as a thank you.
Richard flew the balloon at night, and landed at the Oratory, Benedict had asked Francis to return a book of Newman’s he’d borrowed.At the Oratory Francis would catch a black taxi driven by Nanjit Tanjit, who Nanjit Tanjit, he’s a character in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, you’ll have to do some research. And then under cover of darkness Francis would sneak into Birmingham’s Saint Phillips’ cathedral. In the morning Trump and Putin would light a candle for Peace.
There were no confessionals in Saint Phillips as it was an Anglican cathedral, very small but very nice. This writer used to hide in there during his lunch break for 3 years, the Verger who looks like Jeff Bezo thought I was Holy, I was just sitting down, away from the heat of the Print Room at Pinsent Masons law firm. Francis just hid for teh night in something just as small as the Confessional, the toilet at the back of the church behind the double doors.
In the morning Francis all in crumbled white readied himself. The Secret Service and the FSB had checked the cathedral, so Trump and Putin were all alone, just a remote camera showing live pictures only. Francis had written “out of order” on a piece of paper so nobody had bothered to check the toilet. As they postured for the cameras Trump and Putin spoke. Well NO COLUSION, smiled Trump, yea but I still want the Presidential Suite as soon as your tower in built in Saint Petersburg. Deal done smiled Trump and they shook hands. The candles were lit and they bowed their heads. Don Camillo would have given both of them an almighty kick up the arse. Saint Petersburg, they had changed the city, the heir to Saint Peter was angry.
Francis jumped out and grabbed a lit candle, the pair of presidents, which is a metaphor, jumped back. We thought we saw a Ghost they exclaimed. The Holy Ghost sent me, now you both have to resign immediately and join a Rock Band, the pair of presidents, still a metaphor laughed. If Theresa May is lead singer and flashes her legs then we’ll do it. Ok we will they both joked like a pair a presidents, even more a metaphor. Francis paused, if you 2 resign then I will too, so long as Theresa May joins the band? YES YES YES they said simultaneously. Francis was uploading this to the Holy Friar website, in second the whole world heard the news. Then he played the tape of Theresa May, including the bit where she was swearing like a trooper.
And that is how the Golden Politicians were born. Francis too resigned on the spot. He wasn’t going to flat share the Vatican with Benedict and his piano. He was hitting the road Jack and he wouldn’t look back. In Parliament Mrs May punched the Speaker, which many had thought would happen, but Mr Bercow just smiled, our views may be at variance, but to forgive is divine, so I forgive. Mrs May had come to her senses by now so she French Kissed the life out of him by way of apology. The kiss lasted a full nine minutes, they say being Speaker is a dangerous occupation, but now History would say otherwise.
If you have wondered why Mr May always looks so happy and slightly bewildered behind his Biggles’ glasses well the Speaker can explain things for you. With a parting Vsign to her own back benchers Mrs May left the chamber, now the Speaker looked happy and very very bewildered behind his disordered papers. He had to order a pint of Stella Artois be brought to the Chamber to revive him.
The new band members met in an upper room, the old Waterworks Jazz club venue. They had a pint of Stella Artois each, though Pope Francis has a glass of wine too. Donald said he did not drink, but when Theresa gave him the eye he was putty in her hands. So Donald had 17 pints of Stella Artois and a packet of cheese and onion crisps. His lifetime thirst was over. Stan the caretaker tapped another barrel. Then then the new band moved to the Bell and Pump room to rehearse. Theresa now liberated was the leader of the pack, and dressed all in skin tight leather she now felt so so liberated.
They rehearsed all the ABBA back list, it was the one thing they all knew. Francis was a great base guitarist, and Putin just liked to stand at the keyboards, he was great, but Classical was more his forte,but everybody just loves ABBA. Put what about Donald? Well he put on a kilt and no knickers, and reached for a guitar. He knew that girls loved to sleep with rock musicians, so he had secretly learnt how to play. The servants had assumed the noise in the attic was his kids, but no, it was the Donald. He’d paid Mick and Keith a lot of money to come and teach him back in the 1970s. And he’d been practising for decades. Property he knew, but strutting with a guitar he was even better at, but nobody knew. Except a few ladies who’d signed non disclosure agreements.
So they played, while Rahm Emanuel their new manager made calls as only a Chicago mayor or former mayor can. He’d left Chicago safe in the hands of a Black Lesbian Mayor, now Rahm Emanuel would face his biggest test. Getting the biggest paying concert ever on the road. The Stones were delayed so while Mick stopped prancing they could step in and seize their stage. Two Presidents, a Pope and a Prime Minister. What a line up, Rahm Emanuel decided to call them The Four Golden Peas. He rung Esther his dear friend and asked could she arrange security and the finances once he funnel them to her. Security was easy her son made military satellites, and knew many tough guys.
The money side of things was kind of not legit, you see all the money would be going to Charity. The first charity being Médecins Sans Frontières, MSF or Doctors without Borders. Those bastards, the politicians had started more wars between them so they should give back something.
So Médecins Sans Frontières, would be first. Rahm had set himself a target, One Billion US Dollars. And to help things along, Fr.Dan was going to hear Confession with El Chapo and when he finished every cent he had stashed away would be going to Charity, real Charity not his favourite hooker called Charity.
Fr. Dan knew how to hear Confession, he would beat the ____ out of El Chapo while they were along in his cell. Then he would use Voodoo and put the fear of God into El Chapo, finishing with the words, God Doesn’t Love You Any More. This would break any man in 30 mins tops. Screaming for mercy El Chapo would reveal all. Then Esther would use her Russian Money Laundering Connections to launder the money, and it would end up sparkling clean in each Charity’s bank account. Besides with Putin in the band, no questions would be asked.
Rahm Emanuel smiled, he should have been in the real Blues Brothers but he was just too busy, though he did do one day’s work on the film. It was Rahm Emanuel who drove the car at the Neo Nazi Bastards, so they had to jump for their lives. Not a lot of people known this, Rahm is modest about his film driving career.
The first gig arrived. It would be at Birmingham’s NEC Arena, the one that looks like Spider landed. Rahm Emanuel smiled, Fr Dan had IMed Chapo had talked, in fact he sung like a canary, when a multi black belt Jesuit asks you a question then you answer. Fr.Dan had used Voodoo too, Chapo had peed himself in under a minute. The guards were watching the Concert live in their rest room, so Fr.Dan was left in peace to hear Confession.Rahm was too busy to count the zeros, it was 15,000,000,000 USD.
Esther smiled, her dear friend Mrs Murphy would be so happy, but now she was busy moving the money. In and out of Government’s own bank accounts as well, to make it all sparkling clean. Esther has her list of Charities and smiling she went about her work. Meanwhile Artist Differences had reared their ugly head. Theresa decided to let it all hang out. So she stripped naked and demanded they all did the same. Stripped back music, was different, maybe kissing Bercow had confused her. Give me your tie Donald. So Theresa wrapped his red tie down below. She was like Cher with her modesty half covered but with her behind hanging out. Then she grabbed Donald’s lapel badge to cover her left nipple and Rahm gave her his badge for the right nipple.
Glitter me she commanded, and then she was spray painted in glitter,the perfect Glam Rock look. The Pope stayed clothed in white, but he wore silver high heels. Donald and Putin were sprayed in glitter, Donald lost his trousers but put a kilt back on. Putin just put some very tight shorts on to highlight his accomplishments, of course he was bar chested too.
With that Francis started to play, And The Winner Takes it All, and Theresa May strode out and hit the stage. Overwhelming Applause. She did grab her husband and give him the kind of kiss you’d get arrested for if you did it in public. They lashed the crowd with ABBA hits, and everybody was amazed and Donald Trump showed the world his class and more as he spun around in his kilt, knickerlass to the world. Putin stopped the show with his piano playing, he inserted a few Russian classics.There were no flies on him, and certainly no shirt required, he played his heart out. On the top of the keyboard were Cadburys cream eggs which he scoffed as the show went on.
Francis disappeared in smoke, like holy orders gone mad, but his Bass was unbelievable. Back home Benedict was a little jealous, he was stuck in the Vatican and soon they’d be a 3rd Pope. When they ran out of Abba songs Putin to sing, Russian traditional songs about combine harvesters and wheat yield. But he knew nobody would understand, so he cried as he sung and as the others jammed around. It was an absolute hit, everybody in the audience was crying. Esther was laughing all the way to the bank. 40,000,000,000 USD had been stolen from locked up drugs barrons, as Fr. Dan had toured the jails. Many many charities had benefited. Even Spangle Shoes for Prisoners would get 10,000USD.
What more can I say. Theresa May was a Rock Chic, she wiggled and sung with all her heart. She was free from all those BASTARDS, now she could give her husband everything she had. Her husband rung Beds4Politicians and ordered a new divan set, he knew he’d be needing it. Covered in Sweat and Naked before the Audience, was the title of the Live Triple Album, Rahm certainly knew a good title. That made 100,000,000 USD for Charity. The true figures were never released to the Public nor to Governments, Esther and Rahm didn’t want too many nosey parkers into their business. They’d give the finger to those kind of people.
At the end of the concert Rahm gave each member of the band a crisp dollar bill. After expenses this is what you get. A dollar each, the Pope looked at the reverse. IN GOD WE TRUST. Pope Francis cried, he cried like a baby. Then he woke up, it had all been a dream. But when he woke up under his pillow was a fresh dollar bill with Love Rahm written on it.
Theresa May woke up her new divan set, Beds4Politicians, was broken, her husband was gently smouldering, tea and crumpet for breakfast dear. I’ve had the strangest of dreams she began sitting up in bed, a crisp dollar bill with Love Rahm was under her pillow, and why had she got USA flags stuck to her nipples. And what was irritating her down below, she pulled out a red tie, her husband never wore red.
What of Trump and Putin? They awoke in The Plough and Harrow, they were in bed together, naked with each clasping a dollar bill signed by Rahm Emanuel. Now am I making this all up, or is this a Dream within a Dream. Donald did say at the beginning that he had a dream better than a Queens…..
13.
The Hiss in my Head (c)
By
Michael Casey
As you know Tinnitus came visiting a few months ago, this is a “HISS” in my ears, a bit like static or a naughty little brother, that won’t go away. I’ve discovered that Taylor Swift helps me sleep. I put her music on and have it in the background as I try to sleep. I did try just radio, but there are far too many adverts. You can get an App with all the radio stations so that is great, but for the purposes of SLEEP I need something special. Simon and Garfunkel works as does Fleetwood Mac.
The Music drowns the little brother, don’t be tempted to do this in real life, no matter how much your patience is tempted, I’m speaking in Metaphors, rather like the Queen who talks in riddles apparently. The hiss has to drown, the hiss has to be drown, God save the Queen. It really is bad if you cannot sleep because of this permanent hiss in your ears. Lately even with music playing it can take hours to get to sleep, and then I still awake like a Vampire every 2 hours, or at 7am so I can wake the girls up for school. Yes it’s a strange existence, which may explain the writing, or did you think that already?
In actual fact 90% of the writing is done on the hoof, I get the idea and go. Sometimes there is a little planning, or I think “now there’s an idea for a story” such as today I’ve been impressed by something, so I may write about it at a later date. What? Well you’ll just have to wait and see. I also met a nice lady today by the name of Janet, so maybe she’ll stumble over this, and be surprised. I once was on TV talking about chips to Tony Maycock, it was 1977, and a girl I worked with was so surprised she nearly gave birth. It’s Michael on Tv she screamed, she was very pregnant at the time. Where I worked at that time everybody was pregnant, all except Pauline who was really nice. Though I visited later and then she was pregnant. The “code” for the office was rather unique too, you can work that out for yourselves.
Tinnitus is not fun, it’s more of a curse, now that I’ve had it for a while, which is too long, I really understand it. At night there are no background noises just the static in your head. The past few nights I’ve not been able to sleep at all, or so it seems. So as dawn breaks you are just so exhausted that you fall asleep. And then you have deep sleep,except that you wake up 2 hours later, or 1 hour later. No wonder my hair is getting whiter, but still so very very soft. My daughter said tonight I look more like Einstein, so I put my tongue out, just like him in that famous photo. My GFR is 32 now, go Google what that means. It’s not good.
As we have a good view of the stars form the new house, I open the curtains at night if it is not too cold and stargaze. It takes my mind off the hiss and I try and spot the Plough and the W thing as the stars rotate past my bedroom window. If there are clouds passing by at night you can almost imagine shapes and forms as they drift past and put their tongue out at me as me and my HISS lie together.
I have to charge the old devices so I have enough Noise Maskers to last the night. I have a couple of small radios with 3watt speakers, so just in case my music machines die I still have another, like relay racers of fresh horses to get the good news from Aix to Ghent. Or from wake to sleep, via music with Vampire Awakenings every 2 hours or less.
So now you understand why I need to have naps on occasion, because I’m just a useless machine that is falling apart, I’m talking about my body now. Though I’m sure some may find me ridiculously attractive, or is that just the Korean girl who works in the MORTUARY?
14.
Taylor Swift meet Michael Slow and Snowy ©
By
Michael Casey
Well I was talking about Taylor Swift last night, so I’ll continue with that theme this evening, I’ve been out today so I’m tired now, my ailments do wear me out, but I can rattle off another story in an hour. So here goes. Taylor is singing in a corner while I talk to you, if she stops shaking my keyboard I’ll talk to you. What do I know about Pop Music? Well I did spend years in a smoky bar listening to Folk and Jazz Music, then listening constantly to music on my old hifi, when I wasn’t listening to BBC Speech Radio.
I was also in Sharon Osbourne’s bedroom, just searching for the wifi, when I worked in a 4 star hotel. I also bumped into Will Young, Eric Clapton, Nicklebacker they called me Sir, Richard Claydermen, even Alice Cooper said hello. So I’ve mixed with the stars, I even sold a ring to a Pointer Sister. None of them will ever remember me, but I have carried their bags.
So what if I had locked them in their room and took to the Stage in their place? Let’s start with Taylor Swift, because we are about the same height. I would look great in her glossy stockings as I prance about the stage, all 248 pounds of me. I’m not too sure of my weight now, as our scales were lost when we moved house, but I still am better looking than George Clooney, or is it Boy George, ok both of them. Would I get the stage boots past my fat calves?
The lights dim and there I am “Welcome to Birmingham” I sing and over here we pronounce it BERMINGUM, as I twist my hips, looking more like a Hippo that a pretty girl. Though my Snowy hair IS absolutely fantastic, one of Taylor’s Swift’s dancers did have coloured hair, was it Green and Chinese? Well mine is the real thing, better than Coca Cola, my ever so soft snowy locks. And as this Hippo prances all over the stage, I Shake It , I Shake It. My dandruff sprinkles the audience like breakfast cereal. Forget CocoPops just dandruff spinkles from the wrinkly old boy. In actual I don’t have many wrinkles. Because I’m FAT, which means Fantastic And Telegenetic or whatever that word is for looking good on TV. If you lose weight your wrinkles show go go go, I sing as I prance around the stage like Oliver Hardy.
Taylor Swift escapes from her room dressed in my clothes, rather like in Honey I Shrunk the Kids. Then I’m chased everywhere on the stage, until they drop a net and cart me off, cart me off, like an alligator. Security enjoy taping my mouth arms and legs together. Children cry in the audience, Taylor Swift reappears dressed properly now, Everybody Thank my English Great Grandpa for standing in for me while I watched
Theresa may on TV, I always steal her style, steal her style. The band does a scoring solo as I’m taken away.
Who else could I be? I could be a big bass drum, just banging my tum and maybe my Kardasian size bum. I’d be very Japanese, I think so, I think so. I could be Freddie Mercury too, many a year ago I had a moustache, though due to my enormous thighs I’d not be able to get into his white longs johns he used to wear. They are skin tight, though I have an idea and it requires a razor. Yes I could be shaved and then body painted and then prance about on stage. When I had my quadruple heart bypass before surgery your chest and both legs are shaved. Nothing kinky. But they remove veins from your legs and put them in your chest.
So can you picture me shaved and painted and prancing, I want to break free, I think I’m going slightly mad, Barcelona where is the best Tapas bar by far,on Las Ramblas of course. Under pressure, well actually no pressure at all, just under paint, under paint, by why did they use creosote.
I could of course be Elton John, but he’d seem so mundane compared to me, when has he tinkled like me, he may tinkle the ivories on the piano, but he could never compare with me, tinkling all over the bathroom floor.No wonder I never get invited anywhere anymore. I’m so alone, I’m so alone, please Elton phone, give this poor dog a bone. Or a candle to light my way, a candle in the wind, my wind.Flash A HA, but that’s Freddie again.
I do have some good words that would sing, I let the Music sing, I let the Music take over, but how do I solve a problem like Maria? If I got trapped in a lift with a Musician maybe just maybe it’s because I not a Londoner, but from Birmingham, perhaps, What If. I could dance all night and spread my wings in the lift. Then, and then I could impress and finally we’d have a hit record between us. Or maybe he’d just punch me. My Elevator Ad should impress and then and then I’d really be a Pop Star.
15.
Bells Ringing for Deaf Ears
By
Michael Casey
Well the bells ringing are in my ears, my tinnitus has got worse recently, at night the volume seems to go up so much so its hard to get to sleep. So I sleep with Taylor Swift, or rather her music playing while I try and get to sleep. I did try sleeping with John Denver and Simon and Garfunkel, I’ll have to get a bigger size bed soon. You have to get the music just right or you cannot sleep. Too loud and it’s too loud, yes it drowns the hiss from Tinnitus, but then it’s too loud to sleep. I still wake every two hours, sometimes after deep sleep so I awake like a vampire. No, Taylor, John,Simon and Garfunkel thank their lucky stars that they really are not in bed with me.
It’s much colder today, and the weather is overcast we are back to proper February weather. The hiss is there but I have Taylor singing to me while I try and talk to you all. It’s really good I’ve expanded my music collection and no ads too. The way some modern radio stations talk over the music and cut it short is criminal, and then the ads too. Remember we have BBC radio over here, which has no ads, though other stuff between the music is just as annoying, and I won’t name a certain presenter. I do listen to just speech radio as well, and that’s fine Radio4, but there are other speech radio stations which are dire. Then you get a howling in your ears, caused by the bad programming. I’ve been a listener for over 50 years, so I know what I like.
Now radio is a companion, when my brother left home in 1974 and was a coal miner for a year, before going to Cambridge University that was when radio came to the rescue. I sat alone in the middle room of the family house struggling with my Latin, but with an old Bush radio for company. You would get funny noises on the radio, and static like tinnitus as you turned the dial. DAB was not even dreampt of, I was an early adopter of DAB maybe 12 years ago and the quality was amazing, it was like having your ears syringed. Yes I’m sticking with the ears metaphors.
In Life there are moments which stand out, where bells rings, weddings bells maybe, this is joy. Or the bells on a fire engine when the fire brigade arrive to save you and your house, stopping for a second right now if there was a fire do you have an exit route? I taught my kids their escape route when they were toddlers, I also had 3 smoke detectors. That’s the sound you never want to hear in the middle of the night, Taylor Swift singing or John Denver singing to drown your tinnitus is ok, but a cheap smoke detector will save your family. So go out and buy 3 right now while I make a cup of tea.
Well I’ve made a cuppa, though I’d never speak the word “cuppa” myself, there are some words I use here on the page that I don’t use in normal speech. Are bells ringing as I admit that?One of us is PC and it isn’t me. I hope what you are reading/listening to today makes sense as I am a little dazed and cold, the weather suddenly changing maybe behind that, or I’m just an old fart, ready for the undertaker. You are so cruel, I heard what you all said. Go make your own drink, while I finish mine.
I only drink tea so that I don’t drink too much coffee, though I only drink instant these past 55years maybe, I don’t waste my money on expensive stuff. All this coffee in Starbucks just isn’t me. Now settle down again, did you install and test those smoke detectors? Good you’ll never need to thank me, you’ll only ever have Taylor Swift in your ear, not a smoke alarm at 3am. Now the term “alarm bells ringing” means something, we have our own gut feelings which help protect us. If something doesn’t feel right, then stop and retreat, whatever it is. Throw a bit of Salt at it was what my mother used to say. It’ll keep.
Buying a house can only take 15 mins, you look around and decide you want it. No alarm bells rung because you fell in love with it. You should look for the negatives, walk and I mean WALK around the area. Does it feel right, do people smile as you walk around? Or is it a war zone?
Or is it the one you can only afford? We’ve just gone through all that these past couple of years. So take your time, and listen for any alarm bells.
Choosing a mate, using an old fashioned word, you look for lots of different things. Is he rich, does she have great curves, is he hunky, does he make you laugh, has she got great eyes, do you feel comfortable with him around, can you talk to him? She was the only one left, he was a compromise candidate. Whatever the reason it leads to wedding bells, and nagging and ringing in your ears for life. A Chinese doctor once told me he could not believe how much she nagged him once they started living together. So with that in mind, listen to the bells, listen to the sounds of silence, and choose wisely.
Our Politicians are the most important of all, because they can send us to war. So we should watch and fact check them all the time. If there is a little tinkling bell like the bell on Totoro our cat we should being to watch and listen for more. We should not turn a deaf ear, because he wears nice suits, or he’s so good a churchgoer and all. He believes in this and he never does that, so we trust him, we forgive him everything. The other lot are harlots and bankrupt of ideas and make us full of fears. So we’ll stick to what we have got, we’ll turn a deaf ear. The question is what does it take before the wax falls, which could be a Taylor Swift song, before the wax falls. When will Jesus say “be opened” and only then will we realise we are worshiping a golden calf?
When will we hear the bells ringing out the truth, pride comes before a fall, are we all too proud to realise we have been taken as fools? Fall 2020 is a when the Bells will Ring Loud.
16.
From Singing to Screaming ©
By
Michael Casey
I was struggling to think of a title for tonight’s talk when the pain monster descended, I may need to stop and scream and slap on the Movelat as I’m in lots of pain right now. My left shoulder as usual being the main culprit, it’s 6 years since my major pains started by the way. Anyway I’m going to talk a bit about Freddie Mercury, I saw a documentary called The King of Queen. The new docu/drama 2018 film is also doing great at the cinema.
When I saw the documentary today I was struck by many things, one fact I learnt was that AIDS could incubate for 10years. Also with retrovirals you can live almost as long as somebody with out HIV/Aids. Not something I’d talk about, but because of Freddie I have to mention it. What I really want to talk about was his talent, his enunciation, or how he spoke so very posh. He was a fan of Sinatra, aren’t we all? Sinatra enunciates so clearly, you can understand what he’s saying, he isn’t mumbling into his beard or anything like that.
So enunciation is so very important, it is this clarity that gives power to the words, in actual fact it magnifies them. When we had that MP speak in favour of Theresa May’s Brexit for the first time, the Press said it was like having Oliver or some other famous actor speak on her behalf. And it was so true. However when he tried it a 2nd time he did not sound as powerful. The Magic wasn’t there the 2nd time around.
So there is Magic and Performance, when you get it right then you really do get Power and Majesty. I have my own Teacher’s voice, just as my sister-in-law has her Lawyer’s voice. When I recorded 200 or so of my stories www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com as usual I did everything in one take, just as I write in one take, usually in one hour for the writing.
But reading aloud is a different skill to writing them down, creating them in the first place. So I hope the recordings got better as I gained more practice. It did take me a year to learn how to write in the first place and that was after 20 years of radio4 listening. So 200 5 min or so recordings may not be enough practice.
You may be relieved to know I don’t plan on recording any more of my 2000 pieces, why, because it is so tiring, it is a performance after all. But back to Freddie Mercury, his skill was not just the enunciation but the crowd control, no I don’t mean he dressed up as a Policeman with a stick to control people. What he did was Magic, It’s a Kind of Magic, you will no doubt agree. On the documentary it said he knew Music as a conductor knows music, it was in his brain, just as God enjoys Nature, first let there be a gentle breeze, then a dawn chorus, followed by a flight of birds, followed by oranges changing into blues across the morning skies.
So with Freddie his innate love of music and sound, led to wonderful meals of music. Theatre was big in him too, hence the videos, one person on the documentary stated that Bohemian Rhapsody created
MTV before it even existed. They couldn’t do the song live on Top Of The Pops so they made the video, and the rest is History.
Freddie’s love of Opera and Sinatra made him a much more rounded person, he wasn’t just one dimensional. The band Queen were also made of of very clever people, Brain May did you know is now a real Phd in Astrophysics. The point is if you are open to new things and don’t look down in your own ditch, then you have a greater understanding of your own field, don’t just plant potatoes because you only ever plant potatoes. Plant a few vegetables, and have an apple tree and roses around your cottage door, have a goose as a burglar alarm too. Yes these are metaphors, but you could be equally as happy by being literal too.
Sing clearly in your life, and then your voice, your skill, your love will scream out to high heavens. Things do Transcend, Freddie singing with an Opera Dive, that is an obvious one. But a friendship with the janitor and you are a barrister, the bus driver and the police inspector. The deli owner and everybody. Just as Music screams out and demands attention and leads to Love, so quality Music touches all our souls. That’s what Freddie did with his voice, he touched us, he moved us he inspired us.
We can’t copy his voice, or even his life, but we can all in some small way create a little bit of Magic as we go about our daily life. Maybe we should lead singing on the Friday night bus after we’ve been clubbing. Or just enunciate clearly our daily life, let there be no confusion, no risk of not saying. I Love You, I Love You, I Love you, then we’ll all go to bed happy. Whether the bed is a loving bed, or the bed of roses that grows on all our graves. Rest in Peace Freddie.
Ok, that’s all I could pick from my back list, 14,000 Words so I hope you all enjoy them, and yes as just a Writer I’ll never be as good as a Singer or Musician, not unless I meet a Kpop girl and she speed types my follow on full length novel. Tears for a Butcher
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