Searching

Searching ©

By

Michael Casey

I just saw a photo on LinkedIn I don’t know was it a policeman searching a dog or was it a police dog. If searching, was the policeman looking for drugs or fleas?

When you are young you get searched when you go through customs, the pat down, just as Starsky and Hutch used to do in their show. I once was once going through customs, maybe 30 years ago, and the customs guy asked what the tin was in my luggage. Snails I replied, he pulled his hand out of my luggage quickly.

As you get older and your hair gets whiter, you are stopped less and less by customs. You are relieved, but also saddened, because old age is catching  up on you,  or so customs think, so you don’t need to be searched.

Then you get married and have a family so everything should be quicker as you go through customs. Only today’s world means that everybody is dangerous in the eyes of the customs. So it’s a virtual strip tease as you take off your shoes and belt and all metal things in your possession.  Revealing a hole in your sock, and stinking the place out with your smelly feet.  And then they Xray you too.

If you are “unlucky” enough to have had hip replacement, you set off alarms because of your new hip joint. I’ve avoided the hip replacement for now, however in the future I’m sure my children will be amused by me ringing all those alarm bells.

So now you arrive in a country with your English looking children, apart from the hair, with your young Shanghai wife, and the customs guy in NY raises his eyebrows. Where did you find her Mack, he asks. In the Seniors’ home I reply, he looks in disbelief. Then he says Grandpa, you are a lucky SOB.

Another time another place, Shanghai, we get waved through the Diplomatic Customs gate, they must respect my white hair and age. Or it could have been because the children were so small. But it was good for my ego.

Daily Light Candle

Daily Light Candle ©

By

Michael Casey

This cell is so cold, I only  became a monk because I’d get fed and I’d escape the Black Death, in this splendid isolation. Daily Light Candle, what a job, but at least I’m safe here, away from the hangman’s noose. They don’t know I’m a wanted man, those silly monks.

Daily Light Candle, I want to hide in the shadows, but what task do they give me, Daily Light Candle. Me Michael Casey, a Monk, is that a rat in the corner of my cell? If I pretend to be dead I might catch it, it’ll make good soup. I need to sleep now, I have to wake in time to change the candle. Then as the cock crows its prayers again, why do these monks pray so early, why not enjoy these straw mattresses, then have food and pray afterwards.

 Michael Casey Monk, my wife would never believe it, she’s from the East, or that’s what she told me. And now I’m here in Birmingham up in the hills.

I’m sleeping now, this is  my dream, a candle that lights itself and tells the time, with some kind of music or some way to alert us, so I can sleep and not have to get up to change the candle. Then I could sleep,  Michael Casey Monk,  what a laugh, that school teacher said I’d hang one day, as I bashed his head and stole his bread.

Dreaming of food now, meat, real meat and bread, and mead too. Mind you these monks do know how to brew. I’ve stolen a cup or too while I’ve been here. If I do have to get up in the dark to change the candle I need a bit of encouragement, a bit of something to do me good. Daily Light Candle, what a joke, but it’s better than the hangman’s rope. My Eastern promise wife would laugh, me lighting candles and praying. But at least I am alive.

More dreams, Daily Light  Candle, so we have light to see with and to pray with, perhaps everybody will have their own candle and I wouldn’t have to get up to change it. Now that’s a great dream, no more Daily Light Candle, everybody would have their own in their private lantern. But when will the cost of candles go down.

That’s a great dream, no more Daily Light Candle, everybody would have their own private lantern. I need to wake up and change the candle now.

Well I changed the candle, it’s so dark and cold, I can’t wait to get back to my dream. I stole a couple of glasses of mead, its good, it’ll help my dreams. Now where was I in that dream. Yes a private candle to tell the time by. But what if there was a machine, a machine that was powered like the oceans waves, moving backwards and forwards, always telling the time, no need for candle private or not.

Yes in the future everybody has their own candle, it is clean and cheap and has power like the ocean inside it, as regular as the tide itself, telling the time, all day and all night. Now that would be such a great thing. I could stay in bed, and dream of mead and the wife from the East.

Such dreams I have, I should be a writer, not a thief hiding in a monastery, but I think dreams come true, so who knows, an automatic time telling machine with power like the ocean waves inside it. Everybody would like one, perhaps I could stop being  a Daily Light Candle  monk called Michael Casey and be the Michael Casey Writer, then nobody would confuse us.

SingOff instead of War

SingOFF Instead of War ©

By Michael Casey

Hope you all liked the videos from The Daily Telegraph, it did make me think. Should we have a Glee competition for armies, instead of fighting wars, we have a sing off, just like a walkoff in Zoolander now we have a singoff Glee style instead of wars.I'll be see Pope Francis tomorrow, he always pops in for a pint at our local, The Insense and Candle public house in Old Forge and Singing Anvil where I live. So I'll ask him his opinion, he does like a good sing song, he does enjoy a quiet Guinness when he can escape the Curia. Glee is the word to end all wars? What do you think ask listeners less

p.s. I'm sure Pope Francis will laugh if you pass this idea to him. Dave Allen was a hero of mine.

Interviewing Somebody

Interviewing©

 By

 Michael Casey

Welcome to Casey’s Company

As you can see we are a friendly company

Would you like a drink before we begin?

Sorry only tea or coffee, no Vodka or lager

At Christmas, then that would be different

But today you are here to be interviewed.

Now why did you apply for  a position at Casey’s Company?

Because you liked the 12 weeks holiday a year, but you do do preparation at home.

Because you liked carrying a briefcase, because you liked wearing shiny black shoes and a nice shirt and tie.

Or was it because you liked the idea of being called Sir?

What qualities can YOU bring to the role?

What experience do you have in a similar role?

How would you describe yourself?

Are you self motivated?

Pardon? Can I stop because you want to go and have a wee?

Ok are you ready to resume?

You want to go out and make an emergency phone call to your mum, you forgot to ask her to buy some more toilet paper, and some beef burgers and tomato ketchup.

Anything else?

Ok, lets move on.

So do you enjoy where you are employed at the moment?

You’re not employed at the moment.

You were sacked!

Why?

You were found kissing in the stationary cupboard, and when security searched you, you had 120 red pens and 120 blue pens, and 120 black pens in your nice fake leather briefcase. So you were sacked on the spot. The Police were not called in as the girl you were kissing in the stationary cupboard was the boss's daughter.

But you do have a glowing reference.

Looking at the signature it looks remarkably like YOUR handwriting.

Is there anything more you’d like to add?

You’d like to have the 1^st two weeks of August off, as you’ve already booked your holiday, other than that you can start straight away.

Oh, you forgot something, could you be paid weekly and in cash.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

Oh and when will we let you know if you have been successful in your application for the post.  

Seven Ways (c) by Michael Casey

Seven Ways(c)

By

Michael Casey

Why are  newspapers and some folks on LK obsessed with lists.

7 ways to touch your toes,

7 ways to blow your nose,

 7 ways to scratch your bum,

7 ways to pat your tum,

7 ways to clean your ears,

7 ways to banish fears,

7 ways to dry those tears,

7 ways to pull the wool over others eyes,

7 ways to thin those thighs,

 7 ways to tie ties, 

7 years itch,

 7 ways to make that pitch,

 7 ways to curse that B((***,

7 ways to better sex,

7 ways to what to do next,

7 ways to break it off,

7 ways to scoff,

and finally 7 books on Amazon Kindle,

Michael Casey is a hymnal.

Clear Speech

Clear Speech ©

By

Michael Casey

I was having a read on the internet as is my habit, I came across a piece that made me think, what pompous writing. Why don’t people write clearly, say what they want to say so people can understand. It seems to me that there is a subculture, of so called cultured people who just cannot write plain English. I hope I’ve got their attention now, maybe they’ll read a bit more and change their ways.

Why do governments and local authorities, not to mention big corporations use rubbish language. I call it rubbish deliberately, because if people cannot easily understand it, then it should be in the trash along with soggy teabags and half eaten pizza. Language is for communication!

Why do some people think they should write “posh”, use big words they don’t really understand themselves to baffle people. Is it to prove they went to college for 4 years, and learnt nothing. To prove they own a dictionary, to justify their existent, their pay grade and their “value”. Plain English beats their abuse of language any time.

Adjectives are inserted to bolster the company view, or the council’s view, it’s not a park, it’s the “people’s” park. People are “proud” to be part of this district. People  see through it immediately, though the “bosses” think they are so special and really the people are so lucky to have them in charge.

In Dickens’ time there was a great unwashed people, clever people existed who used long words and knew what they meant. Dickens wrote about the people’s situation in life and you can say he was a force for good. What about today’s world?

Language is for communication, so that as many people as possible can understand. If the words on the page or broadcast baffle people then they are the wrong words. Other words, simpler words should be used, and if they are not, why not? Is it to keep the PR or the HR people employed?

I’ve worked in a variety of places, in one the boss was so infuriated he had signs put up saying “For God’s sake Communicate” What does this tell us? It proves there was a problem, or at least the boss thought so.

You can go to church or wherever you pray, though less that 10% do, and if the priest or minister or leader speaks and you cannot understand, what should you do? You should tell him or her, and if you still cannot understand, leave.

Business has feedback forms, or go online and tell us your thoughts, and we do because we want to win a prize. A good business reads those forms and acts on them, a bad business goes out of business.

Words are like sweets to me and I hope to you, if I as a writer make you scratch your head you’ll soon stop reading. If I tell you a story that’s easy to digest and amuses you too what will you do? I hope you’ll say Michael Casey is worth reading, you like the style, and you like the words because he’s not trying to show off. I’m not saying write for 5 year olds, I am saying write clearly and communicate. 

Music Moves

Music Moves©

By

Michael Casey

Music moves us, music evokes a mood, music reminds us of this or that. That was the song playing on the radio when we first met, that was the song on the jukebox when I turned around and saw her face. When I saw her face, her hair falling down onto her shoulders, or her hair tied back, whatever way it was it overpowered me. She defeated me, I was hers though she did not know it, yet.

The crew cut he had was so bad that I laughed at him, his ears stuck out too much, but the way his eyes sparkled, I knew I was his, but he did not know it, yet.

Music adds the sparks to any romance, it’s the spark of life itself. Maybe the drumming of bones from a buffalo in the caveman’s cave were the start of music, the beat, the heart beat that is music.

As I talk to you I’m listening to some old Folk music, Harvey Andrews is the singer/songwriter. His music evokes a quiet sense within me, it reminds me of a period in my life when I went to a folk club to listen and drink to music.  Thoughtful interesting music, where words are paramount.

Other music brings out other moods. I have loaded up my music to my computer so I have my own private juke box if you like, I have a small hi-fi on bookcase behind too. We have a piano squeezed into the room as well, so sometimes my daughters are on the piano while I talk to you.

So music from whatever source can influence what I’m writing, a faster or slower pace of writing and subject matter. I’ve just switched to Gerry Rafferty, the entire album is really great. Perhaps my typing speed will increase now. It says it was produced in 1978, I was 20 then, working in computers.

Music is the marker in History, when we were 17, when we were 21, this song was in the charts, that song was in the charts. News may come and go, but Music is Eternal, each Age of Man is marked, signposted, by music. Hippies with all their hair was matched by this music or that music. The music of our times reflects the attitudes we had at this time or that.

Music can fix a point in time, in history itself. Great music always sounds great, it never fades, it really is part of our DNA. Though some sounds can be forgotten, and they deserve to be, we have one hit wonders as well. Other songs, great songs and sounds we just want to close our eyes and bring back the memories into our mind.

Eric Clapton is a part of my life, my brothers had a wall of sound while they studied. 45 years ago first one brother then another, had a reel to reel tape recorder and a speaker blasting out music. I still have the speaker. My brothers did get into the 2 best universities in the world. As for me 30 years later I met Eric Clapton when I was a concierge, I almost carried his bag, but I did make him laugh.

So Eric’s music evokes a mood, a memory in my life, The Monkees reminds me of my youth too, and I have their music as well. Happy music and happy times, Ali, Moon Landings, this was music and the 60s, now we have Miley Cyrus who has a great voice but cannot afford to buy any clothes.

Move to the 1970s and for me Jean Michel  Jarre was so novel, so now when I play his music I think how it could be used as mood music in my novels. Film music is so important, it catches the mood of a film, it is the icing on the cake. Though some may say it is the eggs that bind the cake, the film together.

Music videos are a new thing, I can remember when MTV etc did not exist, UTube was not invented either. So music videos evoke a mood, a theme. Lady Gaga’s can be very very funny. But music has morphed into video/film. So it’s a first cousin to pure music itself.

The Old Grey Whistle Test was a music show on tv, the title comes from the fact do people whistle a song after hearing it. Do you hum along to the song, or tap the steering wheel while in traffic. Do you smile and turn the volume up, if you do then the music has reached your heart.

Music is for all occasions, it soothes the savage beast, it stills a beating heart, it warms against the Winter chill. And when Spring comes, the birds themselves make music, birds rejoice with their songs. So let all of us follow their example, for we have music in us all.