Teddy Bear Cull

Teddy Bear Cull ©

By

Michael Casey

Well we all know about Teddy Roosevelt and how he could not bring himself to shoot a bear while out hunting. Teddy Bear came into existence. Thousands of bears, millions of bears, probably more bears than there are people in China have “Lived” thanks to teddy. I bought my future wife a panda  when we first met, the panda was made in China, just as she was.  In fact she used to say I was her Panda before she changed her mind and called me Panzi which means FAT FAT BOY.  So that panda travelled from China to England and then back to China, and then she brought it back home to England  when she came back to me, that’s 15,000 miles by my reckoning. My daughters have been back and forth a few times, when you marry a Shanghai girl international travel is inevitable.

Girls just love their teddy bears too, my smallest just adores Winnie the Pooh, she was saying a few hours ago she wished she could have a Winnie the pooh bed and carpet and wallpaper, basically everything that could possibly be Winnie the Pooh. My girls have received lots of cuddly toys, teddy bears and all things cuddly. I did a count a while back and I stopped at 40. These toys live behind the settee next to the vacuum cleaner and my old collection of CDs. Every now and then my small daughter drags them out from the 3 Iceland carrier bags and makes them pay attention, she plays teacher and they are her class. She then takes the register before starting to read to them. The cuddly toys sit up straight listening eagerly while she reads to them, she is quite a strict teacher.

Now a while back while the wife was tidying up the plastic bag with the cuddly toys broke open scattering teddies everywhere. So we had  to have a cull, you have to feed fizzy pop gently to the toys until they fall asleep only to awake at the North Pole where Santa welcomes them and makes them as good as new until they become new toys for new owners. We had to have another cull today, my small daughter separated the sheep from the goats so to speak. Then the unwanted toys were placed in an Iceland carrier next to the front door, no fizzy pop for them, just a plastic bag, in the morning they will find themselves in a charity shop soon to have new children to love them. There was one cuddly toy  a hush puppy dog that we had brought back from   Florida years ago neither of my girls liked it, but I do so I have rescued him from the Iceland bag, he can live on top of my bedroom Dab radio. I cannot decide what to call the dog, my new best friend, HushPuppy maybe, or Subway the dog.

Christmas is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have been saved and will decorate our house one Christmas gets nearer. For now my daughter has  arranged them on top of the piano, looking over my shoulder I can see, Winnie the Pooh(of course), Tigger and another Winnie the Pooh, a snowman with bells, a cat from Shanghai who’s chasing Minnie Mouse along the keys, it sounds like Jazz and finally there is a smiling teddy with Christmas hat and gloves on. Well I hope the toys find nice new homes via the Charity shop, as for me I hope HushPuppy/Subway hasn’t left any messages on my Dab radio.

Terra Cotta Army not in China but a copy in Germany near Frankfurt/Wellburg

I was there in 2008 its well worth a look

From Fireworks to The Grave

From Fireworks to The Grave ©

By

Michael Casey

The girls were singing at  a Wedding Yesterday morning, they came home telling us about the bride and groom. They also heard that there was a fireworks display that night. They  asked could they go, so I said yes if they behaved.

They behaved all afternoon, so at half past six I nagged them top put on full winter gear, hat, coat, scarf and gloves. They wouldn’t believe me that it would be that cold outside but I explained it would. So reluctantly they put all the layers on. The witch as we call my wife drove up to the firework display. It was behind the church where they had been singing a few hours earlier. My wife, or the witch said she’d collect us a few hours later, she said I could ring her. Only I had forgotten to bring the mobile phone, I have only acquired a mobile phone this year and I don’t really know how to use it, an I don’t really want it either, its for emergencies, its on the Asda tariff because that’s the cheapest. Its my wife’s 1st phone. Anyway we said goodbye and we went to watch the firework show.

Only there was a problem, the price to attend was too much, I have to watch every penny at the moment and I didn’t think it was worth it anyway. So we stood on the pavement in front and to one side of the church. From that vantage point we enjoyed the fireworks display, a bit like watching tv though your neighbours window. There were a  few other families who did the same. So we watched the fireworks while my 9 year old filmed it on our old digital camera, she was very pleased with her efforts. I promised them we’d buy sweets and pop to make up for not seeing the fireworks display officially. My girls understood and after 20mins of illegal watching of fireworks we started to walk home. As I had forgotten the phone we’d have to walk and not get a lift from mum. But I do know how to improvise, it’s a gift I do have.

We stopped at the 1st sweet shop and they roamed around, but girls being girls they could not make up their minds, so they left that sweet shop with nothing. Now from the church to our house is a good 25min  walk and is twisty and curvy and runs alongside the woods at Warley Woods and golf course. So as its was the Eve of Haloween I asked them did they want to walk through the dark woods. No they  both said, but I knew they would like it so we crossed on the crossings which cross the race track of a road. The boldly we went a few yards into the dark dark woods.  We were only there for a minute but it was a good thing to do so close to Halloween. Then we crossed back to the safer side of the road. My smallest daughter wanted a rest so we stopped at a bus stop  and sat on the plastic seats, I told them that I had a bus pass, would they like me to leave them there while I jumped on the bus.

After a couple of minutes rest we resumed our trek back, were we like the Von Trapp family, no Swiss mountains for us, only the long and winding road. The kids could see the retaining wall of their school, from that point on, even in the dark they knew their way home. Spirits lifted I had an idea. My big daughter’s friend lived just down the road on a side road. So when we were outside her friends house we did ghostly noises, just like in Michael Jackson’s Thriller. I thought I made the best screams. Sadly no lights went on in the house, not unless we had given her nan a heart attack.

Further down the road by the light of a front room we could see a child in a witches 

Hat he was pretending to be a witch. It turned out that he  was a friend of my other daughter,  this was too good an opportunity to miss, so again we made ghost and ghoul noises. The child inside lifted the curtain to check was the devil outside, no it was only us. My big daughter laughed and laughed when she say his face appear, she hid beneath the high retaining front wall and then ran laughing to use further down the road.

We went to Thimbermill and got our chocolate and Dr Pepper, we had had some fun after all. My small daughter had said when we were in the dark dark park that she had

Seen a cross, we were in a graveyard. I think it was the support posts for a sapling, not unless it was….

Finally home we decided to scare mum, our resident witch, so my big daughter did her big scream and she managed to scare the neighbours over the road.

but mum had the last laugh, she was sitting in dark watching a Chinese movie on the internet so when we entered the house she scared us.

Well that’s how we enjoyed our Saturday night. Tonight 31st Oct 2010 we had several trick or treats at the door, so I just screamed back I’mdead,” followed by my best Vincent Price scream/laugh. But the kids and parents weren’t impressed. Today does mark an anniversary, its 11years since I was made redundant from CAN    been a few varied years, and best of all I have two daughters whom I can stroll in the dark with

Don’t tell anybody though, my witch is more like Bewitched

My Armchair

I did actually bust my armchair the other day. My kids do sit on the arm rests with me while we watch films, Camp Rock, High School Musical etc for the zillionth time.

My wife used to sit on my lap in my rocking chair, the rocking chair lasted 18 years. So the current armchair may be 6 years old. I was lucky with the rocking chair because it was part of a suite, in fact it was the only reason I bought the suite.  As  for the current armchair it was part of a suite too but the customer did not want it so I picked it up cheap for £45, yes only £45. All my girls do squeeze onto it while they watch Phoenix TV, now the bottom has fallen out of the chair, we've had to put a big cushion under the seat of the chair. So that'll do until we can save up for a new armchair. I had a quick look in two furniture shops and its £200 plus just for a single armchair. I will go back to the same furniture shop where I picked up my bargain 6 years ago, but I'm not holding my breath.

Rocking chairs are great and I'd love to have another furnished rocking chair, perhaps I could be a rocking chair tester, or the NHS could send me one of their new vibrating chairs. A good chair is a thing of beauty in itself, and the rocking is very soothing too, and with a nice drink in your hand then that is poetry in itself. Cue Queen's Song We Will Rock You.

When our dog long ago broke its pelvis he was saved by the vet, and we placed him in our dad's old armchair when the dog came home. When our dad came home from the steelworks the poor dog got out of the armchair because he knew it was dad's chair, I remember it so well. Our cat used to enjoy an armchair too, soft and cosy, she'd fall asleep purring like a Jaguar car.

So the point of all this musing? Enjoy your armchair, because your kids and wife and finally grandkids love that chair too, in one object you capture the word family.

p.s. cross your fingers so I find a cheap replacement

Michael 

www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com 

The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare

The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare ©

By Michael Casey

I just read a piece in this morning’s DT it was about the Vatican’s newpaper and the Simpsons.

The DT comment button did not work so I’ve written this piece instead.

Shakespeare touches all of us, once we learn or are taught how to understand it. It may mean a West Side story experience. It may mean Shakespeare in Love or a  modern version with Leonardo di Caprio.

But it is all Shakespeare, yes I know the literati  will moan as the always do, but underneath it is Shakespeare. It’s the universality of it, www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com for my stuff, more like an Ealing Comedy. But back to today the Vatican/Jesuit take on the Simpsons. My girls tease and say I’m like the dad in the Simpsons, I tell them I’m much much slimmer. Comedy pokes fun and draws us closer together as we laugh at what’s happening, and a big part is laughing at others’ suffering, PC people will spin in their  graves, and the sooner the better.

There was  a really good series on tv about Shakespeare and how he could have been a secret Catholic amongst other things, not to mention his eclectic background, he could touch bases with so many things because of his life experience. So the Simpsons touch bases with us because it highlights the worst in us all, and then we laugh at ourselves, there is no “I couldn’t possibly  be like that” because we ARE like that. I suppose in the New Testament the common touch in the language/life draws us towards the Divine, The Simpsons could it be called the common man’s Bible? I don’t know, you’ll have to read more of the Bible and watch more of the Simpsons. And ask the Jesuits who write the Vatican newspaper, me I’m going to find my deck of cards you may remember the song.

Mongolia Mines and Hearts

Mongolia Mines and Hearts ©

By Michael Casey

 

I was reading The Daily Telegraph today and there was a good article in it about Mongolia and its mineral  wealth. Basically China its buying up all the mineral reserves.

Next door in Russia there are tons of reserves too. Black Gold or oil is washing its way from Russia to China. I remember what somebody once said to me, History is Geography, or maybe a History teacher said it in a class. But it is so so true, History is Geography.

China has invested its time and money around the world trying to secure its mineral resources as well as the oil that its economy needs. It is not trying to export democracy or anything else. As Cuba has learnt you can export doctors and you’ll gain brownie points, China builds schools and infrastructure, it builds the things that will aid China. The Big China is the key the way forward and nothing will get in the way. Having a Shanghai wife I’ve seen directly and indirectly just how busy China is with its development. Forward is the motto for Birmingham where I’m talking from, it is also the motto for China.

Everybody wants to progress, see the photo below that’s where my mum was born and lived till she was 12 years old, along with her 6 siblings and her parents. My mum’s brother Tim died  of rickets at age 7

 So now the wheel of History has turned, China wants to progress. In the 1870s we had the scramble for Africa, it was literally a carve up look at the straight lines on the map of Africa. Everybody wanted their place in the sun, now its 2010 and it’s an economic place in the sun. Offering Democracy and baseball is a bit naïve, or reminding people of Laurence Of Arabia is naïve too. What matters to people is clean water and schools, if you start there then expand from there perhaps you stand a better chance of winning hearts and minds.

Technology may have to be given away too, if you want to save the planet then industrial  nuclear technology will have to be shared. I read recently about some element that when used powered a nuclear plant without weapons grade leftovers. I think it was in the Telegraph. It seemed to be a magic wonder pill. Technology is the future for the traditional industrial powers, they need to get over having their clothes stolen by China and other emerging powers. My dad started as a blacksmith in County Kerry Eire and then spent his life in a steelworks in Smethwick. None of his children worked in factories, we the next generation move on. My novel is set in Old Forge and Singing Anvil as a tribute to my blacksmith dad, it also evokes a time a period that no longer exists, that’s the charm of it. In the real world though the sun has risen in the East.

Which Way Do You Look?

Which Way Do You Look?

By

Michael Casey

Which way do you look? I’m thinking of this because it’s an anniversary today, so it got me thinking.  I also heard today about the funeral arrangements for  our old priest, he was the priest who came to the house to confirm that our mum was indeed dead, when my dad saw him enter the house with my brother and sister my dad started to cry. So now we cry for that priest.

Events make you look this way and make you look that way. Events touch us and pain us, events make us laugh and make us sigh. Today in Chile the whole nation screams in celebration, to be honest the whole world smiles too, we are the world.

When you look in a mirror which way do you look? If you are a girl or a lady you look at your body and wonder is it as you want it to be. Is your hair good this way or that way, do those clothes  really suit you or should you take them back to the shop to exchange them, you’ve tried 20 things to match them but they just don’t work with your wardrobe. Yes you’ll take them back, I mean your mirror is so much better than the one in the shop, and why don’t husbands understand about clothes.

Men look in mirrors for 2 seconds as they drag the comb through their hair, they never seem to notice the stubble on their chins, or the paint on their jumpers, they shame their wives.

Do you look forward or do you look backward? It depends  on  how your life is doing. If you’re on the dole with no hope you may look backward to when you had a job and the money that went with it. You’re afraid to look ahead it’s looking into the gloom, its like the Titanic, all  fog and mist. Some take refuge in drink or worse, glass ½ full or glass ½ empty, or maybe the glass is just not big enough. Your prospective influences how you cope with things.

You can look forward by looking at the property pages on www.rightmove.co.uk if only you get more money then you’ll move house, even if it would really be a lottery win amount of money. You can look forward  more realistically by looking at argos and currys and comet and do some window shopping for the things you really need to replace once the money comes in again. A new cooker perhaps, a new living room carpet, perhaps a fridge, or just upgrade the central heating boiler. All these are looking forward.

I look back a fair bit, because I have lots of memories  and spent a lot of time with my dad in his good years and his fading years in the old people’s home, you can find out more by reading Padre Pio and Me on www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I have almost total recall for my family events. I’m the one who remembers  all the family growing up things. When my brother went to University he bought our little sister a tricycle, it was £5, that was good use of student grant, over 40 years ago. Now my own daughter has ambitions to go to that University. My younger daughter had a tricycle too, I got it as a gift from a toy show that passed through a hotel where I was working a few years ago.

I think having memories is good, it certainly means I have material to write about, growing up with lodgers for example. I look back with love and think just much love we got from our parents. “You are as good as anybody” is what I can remember my mum saying, proud and defiant she was, for her love was a nuclear weapon. Mothers know how to use nuclear weapons, their love really is that powerful. I have an  idea for Tears For A Butcher my 3^rd book, if ever I get to write it. A mother’s Nuclear Weapons will feature, I just hope I get to share it with you, let’s look forward together.

 Me and the wife In Frankfurt Aug 2008

  

Steptoe and Son

Steptoe and Son

By

Michael Casey

I was watching the telly and Steptoe and Son was on one of the Sky Channels, it took me back years, almost as many years as to when I was as old as my kids are now. So a long time ago, 40 plus years ago.

It was the episode where the dad was sick in bed with a bad back, I’ve hurt my back in the past so I could empathise. But it was the humour where the dad was exploiting his son, Harold was at his dad’s beck and call. “Harold” this and “Harold” that. Finally the son realised what was going on, somebody had drunk his lager and he was sure it wasn’t the horse, so it must be his dad upstairs. Harold got his revenge  and gave his dad a blanket bath with surgical spirits, which was like setting fire to his naughty bits. So he ended up sitting in the kitchen sink to douse the pain.

Last week it was the famous episode where the old dad and the son were playing scrabble, X certificate scrabble and the Vicar came to visit. The vicar got Harold to write a history of Rag and Bone Men. The dad sulked but did a cross word puzzle for the Vicar’s magazine. When the magazine was published the Vicar was arrested because the cross word puzzle was obscene.

This is classic  comedy and I’m glad Sky has it on one of their channels. It takes me back to when I was young. It also reminds me just how well it was written, some of modern comedy is just not funny. Personally I don’t find the Office funny at all. I still dream that someday some of the comedy I write gets on tv. If Steptoe still makes  us laugh then it is a testament to just how good it is. My kids saw a bit of tonight’s show they laughed, so that’ll be 3 generations of Casey’s who like Steptoe, I can remember my mum laughing like a banshee when it was on. If there are any producers out there Shoplife would make great tv and be a cash cow at the theatre www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com is where it can be found.  Old iron, old iron…..