What's the News

What’s the News? ©

By

Michael Casey

Well where do I begin, which is a song title, you can Google for yourselves, I think Andy Williams sung it in the 1960s. So that’s a start to a story, to today’s piece, I did think of several other starts, but I may weave them in later on, I try and never waste material. It’s a sin to waste food, and it’s a sin to waste ideas, my mother would be proud of me, she always proud of all of us. You are as Good as Anybody I remember hearing her say when I was 4 or 5, about the time my eldest brother went top Grammar School.

So every day or so it seems I’ll phone my sister and touch base, I’ll get all the news and she’ll pass on all of hers. Who we met and who we saw, and the silly and stupid things of the day. What food we ate, or saw in the shops on offer, normal family stuff. How are my girls doing and so on.

News is the verbal cement that holds a family together, and yes I wrote that line over 30 years ago in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker my comic novel, should anybody be tempted to claim it as their own. Though that’s old news as if you are reading this you have probably read the line in the Arabic or Spanish translation you downloaded from my WordPress. Maybe you are Jordan, the country not the model reading it right now.

So news comes and news goes around. How they brought the Good News from Aix to Ghent was a poem we leant in 1st year of Grammar school with Mr Foster, and Brewer you are a Cretin was a line of his I seem to remember, after he first called him a Moron. Casey are you raising your hand to answer or supporting the Wall? Is what he said to me, as I sat in the alphabetical corner, nearly 50 years ago.

News comes in good and bad packages, you’ve passed an exam and you proudly hold the letter aloft. You get news of a death or of an illness, or that Foot and Mouth has wiped out your sister’s cattle. But she had a great brother in law who sent help. I can clearly remember that as I tell you this, as I write it down, it brings tears to my eyes because it reminds me of my father and the love over the Irish sea back to Kerry, maybe 50 years ago.

News is fun, it is joy, it is Saint Patrick’s badges been sent in an envelope for us all, so the Green can be celebrated in our corner of Birmingham, from the very same aunt. Simple joys in a letter, sent with love.

There can be sadnesses too, a knock at the door and 2 Policemen there, Can we Speak to Mr Casey, which one there are 5 of us. Then the Police come in, they tell me that our lodger, the one who gave me a watch for passing the 11 plus exam was dead. He was going around in circles on the No.11 bus, the Outer Circle all 20+ miles of it. He’s died on the bus home from his riding holiday. Then it was me who had to tell our mum as she came up the road carrying two leather shopping bags, it was 1980, another lodger has died on me of a heart attack just the year before.

Death and disaster arriving in letters or in person. The Angle had Glad Tidings of Great Joy I Bring, Hope can Spring Eternal, a Letter or just one word can change everything. A simple Yes through the tears of Joy, or a sad silent No, a shake of the head, unwilling to look you in the eye. All these are news. I’ve had a bit a sad news myself recently, but you can never let it beat you. Yes be sad for an hour or for a day, but then be glad again, never stay sad.

Retail Therapy does work, or Sod It, let’s go down the Pub, it can and does work, as does a few hours in bed curled up against your sadness. But Comfort in bed from the one you love is far far better, a hug and a kiss, and a bit of sexual bliss, will help you weather any storm. Then you put your pants back on and face the day again.

In my case I just bought some toys for my daughters, because they needed them and besides you can’t take it with you. So break the budget and fight back, I’ll get over whatever the problem or setback is, I’ll tuck my fat belly in and wear roomier underpants, and then stride manfully along. Though I do need a woolier winter vest too.

So that’s today’s piece, I could have quoted the famous pieces about News, but instead I’ve shared memories, which I hope remind you of your own ones. Remember too, the Prodigal Son and The Good Samaritan. One was ashamed but returned home, as a Father will never turn a son away. The other treated a Stranger as if he was his son and bound his wounds, in today’s world that was the Bad Guy tuning out to be the only Good Guy. The guy who is generally despised being the Hero in Shining Armour. Which reminds me of High Noon, do not forsake me…

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