Christmas On A Bus

Christmas On A  Bus ©

By

Michael Casey

On a bus coming home the Christmas Story revealed itself to me, ordinary events on a cold  Winter’s evening.

There was a large man squeezed into a seat sitting crossways as he was so large, I squeezed in next to him, the two of us like boulders abandoned.

A small African child was singing a carol to her mum who was weighed down by worry and a carrier bag  larger than  the child, behind a bigger child was swinging her feet off the seat.

In front of me a child with  a large bright pretty ribbon in her hair was talking excitedly to her nan. Her nan was all wrapped up against the Winter weather, she was more like a parcel than a person She was giving sage advice to her granddaughter, don’t expect too much this Christmas.

There was a pretty teenaged too, she was  moving her ankle in her new clean boots, perhaps Christmas boots, she was speaking confidently to her ugly friend, pretty girls always have either a fat or ugly best friend, its Nature’s balance.

The African family got up it was their stop at the bus stop, I told the child to hold on tight to the rail as she moved forward only she was too small to understand fully.  My children are about their age I said to the child with the ribbon in her hair and her nan.

The large man squeezed in next to me started doing sign language to me, it was only then that I realised he was deaf and dumb. So I signed back to him. A few stops further on the dumb man as big as Gabriel himself got up as it was his stop, we exchanged goodbyes, “Good Luck” I said, he got off and waved goodbye from the street.

I heard a voice on a mobile, “we’ve got to go then or the graveyard will be shut, I want to give mum some flowers for Christmas.” All this represents Christmas,

your Christmas, My Christmas, Everybody’s Christmas. So take time out to speak  to the deaf, to share a smile, to remember your mum, for Christ is Born.

Talking to an Audience

Talking to an Audience ©

By

Michael Casey

The average speaker starts by saying “unaccustomed as I am to Public Speaking” and then he rattles off his talk.  I was sent on a presenting course back in 1998 this was a great course and after 2 days of training I had mastered the basics.

The trainer placed a few objects on the table, a pencil, a book, a pair of glasses and  several more random things. We had previously been shown how the expert did it now it was our turn. We were given 15mins to prepare then one by one we had to stand up and talk about the object we had chosen.

We all watched and then gave feedback, it was a group thing, we were all on the same team, it was a family we were there to help each other learn how to present. Talking for 5 mins can be scary when you’ve never done it before, but with training anybody can do it.

We repeated this exercise with different objects, we gave advice and encouragement to each other. Some were not as good as others, for some standing up and talking in front of another group of people was like being naked in front of people. Nobody was naked but it felt that way to the shy talkers.

Having Irish blood in me made it easier for me. Then we were all given the big challenge, the next day we had to stand up and talk for 15mins, on a subject of our own choosing. I decided to talk about my trip to Paris in the February just gone. So on the train from Oxford to Birmingham I started making out some Qcards, notes to help me with me talk the next day. I should explain I was working in Birmingham for ACNielsen but the head office was in Oxford and that’s where the training was. Caroline had been very generous and allowed me to go on the course just months before redundancy beckoned. If I’m honest I hoped the course would help me with my comedy writing.

The next day I was on a train my Qcards all ready, I rehearsed and rehearsed, then I got to Oxford and ACNielsen HQ.  I think I was last to talk, or should I say perform. I told them that I had chosen hotel on the advice of JC, only JC had forgotten to tell me it was in a red light area by Gare du Nord Paris.

Being a lad I had a Chinese an lots of wine, before staggered all over Paris and down the Metro, at the Eiffel Tower my camera was bust, I was using my schoolboy French trying to get the girl in the box office under the Eiffel Tower to fix my camera. I decided a kebab was a good idea after my night time look at Paris. That was a mistake, the Chinese and wine and a kebab all mixed, and made me violently ill. My bathroom was like a wardrobe that you climbed into for both the toilet and a shower. I was as sick as a pig. In the morning I found a pharmacy. “Avez vous des asprin de bas prix” I asked. In exchange I was given a box which said “asprin tamponee” I opened the box and inside was a tube with extra strong mint sized asprins, asprins that fizzed. So I had to find a drink and wash the asprins down, I must have looked like a rabid dog.

I continued with my tale, my audience in fits of laughter. I was nearing the end of my tale when I was stopped. “How many minutes have you done?” asked the trainer. “15” I replied. In fact I had done 30mins. So I think I passed the test, I can present.

3 days later I was in the Czech Republic, my penfriend was giving me a look at Pilsner her home town, the home of lager itself. She had a class and would I, could I talk to them, she was an English teacher you see. So there I was in front of 25 students, so I stood up and presented off the cuff for 90minutes.

I think that proves I had a good teacher in Oxford. My trip to Pilsner gave me an idea for a piece of writing, Czech Story, which proved to be one of the best and funniest pieces of writing I have ever done. Its good because its true. I suppose all art is best when it  draws from life. Shall we leave it there for tonight……………..

A New Page, a new leaf

Well I'm hoping for big things next year  2011. So I'm kind of restarting my blogging here on Multiply. I've created a book of blogs, a selection of 100 blogs. So that means I have 3 finished books and a 4th still being written:-

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker   

Essays and Plays                                       

MichaelCasey'sBlogs2011

Tears For A Butcher

Tears For A Butcher carries on the next day after Butcher  Baker Undertaker finishes. I'm having lots of fun dreaming up this book. Now all I  need is a few quid to support myself while I have a year off to write it. 

I won't be attaching any attachments to my future blogs, but I will be sharing my blogs with MySun and MyTelegraph as usual.

Window Shopping

Window Shopping ©

 by Michael Casey

Well the cold has got me so I’m all bunged up and drinking gallons of hot drinks, the kettle is whistling so wait a sec. Ah that’s better, another hot coffee, then I’ll switch to hot blackcurrant. Why do colds come at Xmas?

They are as predictable as carol singers. I only ever tried carol singing once as a child that’s another memory that has rushed back to me.

Rosie told me she believed that if you looked at a toy shop window you could see all the toys but at night when you were not there they all came to life. She was a child at the time, but I hope she lets that memory come to life often. My kids still believe in Santa as do I, I go for the fittings of his new costume at Slaters every Christmas, and then Santa comes along for the final fitting, we are about the same size you see. You could say I am his body double, just like in the films.

But back to Slaters, now they only have a small shop window then you take the lift upstairs and it’s a bit like an Aladdin’s cave. But speaking of shop windows and window shopping there are many ways to window shop. The real world one can be tiring trudging around the shops, especially if you have a young and fashionable wife. So I soon realised the best way was to let her go on her own while I had peace and quiet, then once we had kids she took the kids and I had peace and quiet. The perfect solution, especially as I paid the bill. Young girls become very fashion conscience, so they were the perfect mirror, to say mum this is good or this is bad. I’m sure Shanghai husbands/boyfriends agree with me, perhaps there should be a club for the Shanghai husbands/boyfriends

Me I look in 2 shop windows and know they won’t have my size, and then I head for Slaters, sometime with the family in toe, then its like lightning, flash bang whallop, I’ve got all I need. That’ll do me for a year or two.

I do like looking in watch shop windows, watches are a weakness of mine, why are men’s watches so huge nowadays, its like having an alarm clock strapped to your wrist. I tend to go for the elegant ones, or the elegant ones in my opinion. The ones with multi dials and buttons to press and turn are a turnoff. Oris ones are  nice, as are Omega. Yes I do dream of having one of those when I win the lottery or finally sell some books. My first watch was  for passing the 11plus, its all in The Watch and Me an essay on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com 

Now we are in a technological  world, we have windows on the world via our tv and our computer. I was telling my girls earlier today that we only had 2 or 3 tv channels when I was their age, they could not believe it.

So what do we do with our tv/computer eyes ?

We window shop. Obviously I look at watches and dream of my automatic Oris or Omega, and how nice it would be. I have had maybe 20watches these past 20 years or so. I’m forever carrying things and banging my watches. One steamed up and the front fell off so I superglued the glass back on, only I glued the hands together.

What else do I window shop? Well when I need a new winter coat I look at the web sites and see what I can see in xxl or 2xl as its called nowadays. Window shopping on the web allows me to see what’s available, the designs and so forth, all from the comfort of my own home, as you’ve seen from the photos on my website. The government encourages all this window shopping because it helps trade and that in turn helps their tax take, which in turn should help us. We do finally leave our homes and visit town and buy stuff and have a beer and a meal while we are at it.

We all look online before we book our holidays, some look online for love, romance, sex. And then they book their holidays. Online is our eyes, nobody will believe how old fashioned the world used to be, my grandkids won’t believe the Internet was invented, its as ordinary as trees growing in a back garden, its always been there. In the future there will be guided tours explaining about Window Shopping, about holding hands in the rain, about blokes gathered in the doorway talking about MU while their wives/girlfriends try on stuff. Window Shopping is part of world culture, it’s the 3rd oldest occupation in the world after sex and stories comes Window Shopping.

WikiLeaks and all that

WikiLeaks and all that ©

By Michael Casey

WikiLeaks is making the headlines the world over. WikiPedia  its near namesake is very inaccurate, Lenny Henry did a piece about it in his Comedy Show which I watched the other night. Now while I’m talking about Lenny who was born just up the road from where I’m speaking from, he did a 2 part radio play on Radio4 about a washed out Police Padre , now that play deserves to be transferred to TV, so everybody email The Sun and see what we can do.

WikiLeaks shows what can happen when somebody has too much access to military computer systems, and it also proves that the system was not tested enough or at all. The average person at home looks after their computer and their data. Its no use boasting how great a computer system is if its not tested. We have a British citizen who broke into Nasa and other US military computers because he was looking for UFO evidence. Now if he was a terrorist I could understand the USA anger, but he was a simple man who should not be extradited and sent to jail. He should be rewarded for proving how rubbish the security was, he should be given  a job to help sort out the security. The poacher turned gamekeeper approach. I bet the majority of people, lets say 85% would agree with me.

Wikileaks shines a light on diplomacy and its many arts. Some things that have been said we all know would be said anyway. But its embarrassing for these facts to come out. The pot has been stirred and lots of *&^% has hit the fan. Its like a couple of girls in the bathroom saying horrible things about a friend not knowing she was in a cubicle behind them. In films the girls kiss and make up, or the girl gets revenge or  the girl realises she’s a dork and she changes for the better. Sandra Bullock would no doubt star she’d be the girl in the cubicle.

International relations are not about girls in the bathroom, the world is a dangerous place. We have folks who are arming with dangerous toys. Nuclear weapons are the ultimate phallic system, if we could make a wish upon a star we’d all wish them away. Some people love Miami beach others think its dangerous full of dangerous people, others prefer Fort Lauderdale, so it goes with international relations. We have friends who protect us, ie. USA but we don’t want our other friends knowing this.

I was brought up never to tell a lie, are International relations about lies and deceit? Or is it all about the real world, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. Only South Africa gave up the Nuclear phallic, any chance North Korea and Iran will do the same? 

We can all dream and we can all pray, my god is not better than your god. There is only One God and his name is “dad” or “abba” its to him we should all be praying, begging our one God to take away the Evil of trophy nuclear weapons. This is something worthy for all of us to do this Advent season, a new life a new hope is born at Christmas, for without hope the certainty is that someday we’ll all see an atomic flash on the horizon, which would prove we are just a planet of apes.

Just for fun vote on the best photo of me plus your favourite piece of writing

                                                                                                                      

Whats on the Internet

There was a piece in today's DT about the internet, my post Internet Story says a lot about the subject so I've brought it back below.

But I would first say that using the Internet allows you to practice your skills, it allows you to be a verbal Banksy, to share your "wisdom" with the world. It allows you to hijack websites for your own devices, its like shouting at a tv crew or pulling faces at the tv crew while they interview somebody important  or self important, its like mooning while a politician drones on. Which is more important, a politician trying to save face or a mooner behind him?

Me I'm trying to get people to read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker my comic novel. If I had a few quid I'd publish it as an Ebook, at the moment its a free read on my site. www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com  I can empathise with singers who used to tour all the old folk clubs being allowed to do three  songs in the interval. Finally they are allowed to do a set of six poems. Mad Dogs and Englishman was a great band from years ago, they may be dead now, I hope not but alcohol has got a few of their kind. Nick Fenwick was another great singer, as was Tommy Dempsy. Back to the Internet, here everybody has their 15mins of fame or their own virtual world in which they are a star, its like Xfactor where you are both the judge and jury and your own publicist. Yes I've broken some of the "rules" on the internet but thats the joy of it you can have your say, the printing press was a great revolution and brought education to the masses, so now in its way the Internet brings enlightenment to the masses. Yes its brings lots of rubbish too, perhaps 50% rubbish and 50% interesting stuff, but I do think I'm right in saying it is as important as the printing press. If we didn't have the Internet we could still be back in the days of Monks in cells illuminating pages. Now if I could draw my book would be more sellable, a few drawings grab people so they turn the pages, cover art is important too. So if Banksy reads this how about doing some illustrations for me. As  payment they'll be one blank page in every book so you Banksy can draw to your hearts content, me I'll just enjoy the royalties.

Now everybody enjoy Internet Story again.   Michael in Freezing Birmingham 

I know your face

I know your face ©

By

Michael Casey

Somebody said he knew my face  today, he was looking at a photo of me on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com

But 100,000 people know my face, I worked at a 4star hotel for a few years so that many guests must have seen me.

I have   brothers and cousins, so I suppose my face could look familiar. My hair is distinctive, it went white, silver if you’re generous to me, it went silver 20 years before it should have. I’m “granddad” on the school run.

In songs a face changes things, “when I saw her face” the Monkees sang, I was small when their show was on tv.

“Take that look off your face” another song sings. For the Chinese its about not losing face, saving face is important.

Putting a face to a name is what we say when we meet after just phone or email contact.

Faces are important, we can see each other, we can see each other’s reactions, the look of love or the  sneer of contempt. Fear written on a face, tired and worn out, sad eyes, pained eyes all of this is on a face.

But what about a mother’s  face, love is written all over it, kindness and compassion and laughter too.

My wife took my mother’s photo to Shanghai to introduce her to my Chinese family, my mother had died a few years  previously but the photo showed them the depths of love, the oceans of love, all of this from the smile on her face.

A face is a door to the soul, a way to the heart, a sign showing just how much spirit of love is inside a person.

A face is a road map for love, so always be open, a hard uncaring, a hard look is self defeating, I’m strong, leave the face pulling alone, leave it for heavy weight boxers.

Me I hope I have a ready smile, a warm look just as it was given me by my parents and by my heritage.

His face reminds me of Santa, now that  is a face worth keeping. Smile Everybody.