Saturday, 9 March 2013

I live in other's memories


I live in others’ memories ©

By Michael Casey

We remember  things, that’s what makes us smile, the remembrance of things past. It can be a good cup of coffee, it can be the French toast we shared with our daughters this very morning,  it can be memories from a faded photo of our long dead mum. Things remind us of love, of hate and war, of death itself. As I lie dying here  I know my girls will remember me, they even tell me they’ll be red roses on my grave every month, so I can die happy, though I tell them not to shed any tears.
I live in people’s memories, Omer one of my students said he’d never forget me, never, I was touched, I told him to forget me and just remember his English. I did give him a big hug and said goodbye, I suppose it was touching. The naughty students remember you too,  when you are gone they want to know where you are now. I feel a bit like Nanny  MacPhee,  though which of us is the more attractive I’ll let you decide. I live in people’s memories so I’ll never die, my grammar school mates still remember when I stunk the bus out because of my smelly feet in the wellies back in 1972.
I live in people’s memories,  the guests at CPNEC back in 05 said I was the best thing in the hotel when they heard I was leaving, that was very touching and I DID work very very hard there. The guests for the Spring Show they were  very very nice people, one lady reminded me of Bet Lynch from Coronation St, “hello Michael, give us a kiss, show us the photos” and I’d show her the latest photos of my then small daughters. That lady really was a lady and she and  her crew really did work so hard at the show, so it was nice to look after her. Another guest would say “honey I’m home” when he got back to the hotel after 10 hours of hard work at the Spring Show, they live in my memory and I’ll be tell my girls and their girls how much fun hotel work is, and how much hard work too, because it lives in my memory.
I  live in other’s memories because I hope I care, because I really am an altruist, because it is nice to go that extra mile, to see the penny drop when you teach somebody something new. Or to see you have surprised people with your writing, “did you do that, did you write that” now that will stick in their memories. A piece of writing especially a song or a poem, now that really is something specially. I know a little old lady in USA who’ve I met via Facebook  who’s poetry lives in my memory, who’s words  make me realise, never judge a book by its cover. As she reads this I know I haven’t described her correctly, the only correct word for her is Poet, with a capital P.  Today we spoke and she said “niche”, as in we all have a “niche” and I suppose that’s how we each live in people’s memory.  Perhaps  I should be on a niche in a church with candles burning in front of me, as I get more and more sooty. A good car mechanic has his niche and that’s why we go back to him because he is so good and by word of mouth he gets good business, he lives in other’s memory.
So when I finally die, for we all do, what would I like to be remembered for? I hope my girls will say he loved us so much, he made us laugh, he wasn’t that fat, he never dyed his hair black as we nagged him to, nor trimmed his wild eyebrows either. I  hope  people have finally bought my books on Amazon Kindle, I hope we finally did get that nice big house. And as the light   from one life fades, I hope I can say “I did my best, I was almost as good as my own dad.”
mum's house where she lived till 12 with 6 other siblings and parents
Cromane Lower County Kerry Ireland

Friday, 8 March 2013

The Photograph


The Photograph ©
By
Michael Casey

I heard Rankin on Desert Island Discs this morning, he was a good guest, engaging and interesting. Should I go to him for my passport photos, or get him to take a few family snaps, normally I’m not in the shot as I’m holding the camera. So if Rankin is free he could do the honours.

Joking apart, a photo is a big thing, it is a memory, it’s more than a memory, it’s part of our love for the person in the photo. When my mother died I complied photo albums for my siblings so that we each had  some memories. There is a photo of mum playing to the camera with the dog’s dinner bowl in her hand, three of us have a copy A4 size, so whichever house you are in it reminds you of mum and the original family home.
When we grew up we didn’t have a proper camera,  mum had a box brownie kind of camera, it’s probably still in the family home somewhere.  In those days you had to take the camera to the chemist and there the film would be put into the camera. Film used to be like a scroll, cartridges did not exist, and as  for digital, that wasn’t even in Star Trek. Technology has changed so much. My brother collected lolly pop wrappers and sent ten shillings or less to the address on the lolly wrapper and a few weeks later we had a plastic camera. I still remember we went into the middle room and closed the  curtains while he put the film in the camera.
The processing at the chemist  gave you small photos with a white border, or later on you could send away you film in an envelope and get one large photo with two passport sized snaps at the side. I can also remember our lodger, he had a camera and he took photos of all of us playing in the gardens, without him there would have been hardly any photos of us growing up.
I became a bit  of a snapper and took loads of snaps of the family and friends at work.  My boss even said the camera was “surgically attached” to me. We stuck the photos to the fire doors, snaps of us at the pub and loads of squirrels snaps from the woods. It was very homely, years later we had a refurb so they all had to come down. The photos we have in our homes say a lot about us, do we have a sense of humour, how many kids and grandkids do we have. We can have photos of our judo club, I am of course a judo black belt and  brown braces. Our life, our loves are displayed in our collection of photos.
Technology now means we are all digital, we take a snap in minutes or even seconds you can put it on your computer and/or upload to Facebook. It also means we have to be careful or you are caught out and you are on Utube when you don’t want to be. Students try and catch you acting the fool or telling them off then with their camera phones you are immortalised. Photos are framed and the framing adds to the value of the photo, and now we have the Photoframe the technology that allows you to rotate 100s of photos instead of having one fixed frame. So much change from when photography was invented.

A home without photos is a home without love, nothing has touched that person, nothing has  been memorable, nothing has been shared, there is no proof, there are no photos. We do have Facebook now, and I suppose the Internet and  Cyberspace have becoming our living room wall. Smiles with teeth showing these are the happy photos, I’ve seen too many people trying to look “hard” or “cool”, even judo black belts show their teeth when they smile, they have nothing to be afraid of after all. So all I am saying is be open, be open to love, be open to life, and let the photograph record and share that love.

Monday, 4 March 2013

Keys


Keys ©

By Michael Casey


This is my first post of March 2013, I noticed that an estate agent was trying to open the vacant house over the road, what he didn’t know was that the locks had been changed, so I smiled. From my vantage point here in the window I see the whole world and its mum promenade before me. All kinds of everything happen before me. Today it was keys, so I thought could I write about keys? Do I have enough memories of keys? As I talk my big daughter, and she is now bigger that mum, she is playing the keys on the piano, sometimes very well, sometimes more practice is needed, but she has 2 weeks before the next piano lesson, playing the keys every day before  the piano teacher returns.
We used to have the ceremony of the keys when I lived at home, my dad used to get me to lock the entry door, and bar the gate at the bottom of the entry which opened into our yard. We’d also lock and bolt our house doors before dad took the keys to bed with him, along with a small westclock alarm clock, it was gold with a green face I seem to remember. As I look up through the window somebody is taking a look at the house over the road, this time the right keys, the new keys are in the estate agents hands. As for my daughter she is playing God Save the Queen, it’s in her music book. And the Queen has left hospital too, do you think she has house keys of her own for Buckingham Palace? Tony one of our old security team at the law firm told me he used to do guard duty at the palace, he revealed at night the army guys put trainers on, they don’t want to wake the Queen up after all. Imagine waking up the Duke of Edinburgh, the air would be blue, red, white and blue, but mainly blue. I suppose that’s why folks like the Duke, he calls a spade a spade, and he’d tell you exactly where to put that rifle if you woke him up in the night.
The key to a good life is a good wife, or so she tells me. Barry White is singing to me now, the first, the last, my  everything.  Dance on all the major keys of life, the high notes, the low notes, the notes in between, tickle your wife’s fancy, a little bit of what you fancy does you well. Everything has  to be done so you have the key to a good life, love life and laughter, then you have all the keys, no doors are barred to you, your life  is like music, all the keys in order.


Thursday, 28 February 2013

Shakespeare and all that


Shakespeare and all that (c)

By Michael Casey

I just read in the Daily Telegraph that Shakespeare was coming back, no not from the dead just back to the syllabus. Yes Shakespeare can be hard, very hard even. Nowaday you can get good notes. For example Cliffs notes on Internet for Macbeth or whatever. Then on Amazon by Longman's guide to Macbeth. Then back to Utube/Internet and you'll get 4 versions of the play. So that's a head start already, assuming your teacher is good they he/she will bring it to life for you. I'd say read the play, look at the Cliffs notes on your own before the teacher starts on the course. If you are doing it on your own for fun or for the OU then just read he play look at the notes, watch all 4 versions of the play on Utube. You can even find sites that'll have essays on the subject. You may have to pay a few quid for access, OR you just read the 1st page of over 40 essays. The internet is your library so use it. Get drunk and read it, or have 4 litres of Dr Pepper, 10 bars of chocolate or whatever makes you happy then read the play. I did a bit of Shakespeare at the OU and I taught a bit too, so I know its doable. Don't be afraid, its just words on paper. BUT you can bring them to life, put silly voices on, do silly walks, sit in MacDonalds and do it. Go to the park and do it. Chop it to size, and do it. 14 years ago I relearnt my Spanish in a couple of months, all I did was 15mins a day, every day for a couple of months. I chopped the Spanish to size. Shakespeare is simpler than doing Spanish after a 25year break. Once in Barcelona I spent a week in a tapas bar, but that's another story. Please Please Please give Shakespeare a try. There are tavelling theatre companies after all, get your school to get one to come and put on a show. Did you know there are even theatre companies that work in prisons? We had a film called Shakespeare in Love go and watch that. Then with fear banished, lose your virginity with Shakespeare.

p.s. 6848 views of my sample chapter on funny or die   
       google "michaelgcasey" to find it, then buy my books on
 http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Thursday, 21 February 2013

As I look out my window 2013


As I look out my window 2013©
By Michael Casey
As I look out my window what can I see? I can see my neighbours but they cannot see me, I can observe the goings on, the this way and that way of traffic and of people. Writing is all about observation, what I see with my eyes comes out on the paper as a story or a blog, or even a chapter in my next book, my 6th book Tears for a Butcher. I have finished the 1st chapter, I even put it on funny or die http://www.funnyordie.com/michaelgcasey  and to my delight it is about to go through the 6000 views barrier, if only people now go and buy my first 5 books  on Amazon Kindle http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Enough of the advertising, just how do you write? Well start with something simple, don’t try and be all poetic. Talking of poetry go and buy a copy of The Book Thief, it’s a wonderful book and it’s very very poetic. You have to read if you want to write, having read you’ll learn  about punctuation and style just by reading. You’ll also learn who cannot write, throwing a cat amongst the pigeons Dan Brown cannot write. The Daily Telegraph had a piece of his writing in it, I read it and I thought I was reading concrete. Yes he has sold 40million books, but I still maintain he cannot write. There is also a theory that writers just always bitch. I’m not bitching I’m giving you my honest opinion. Writers sometime belittle other writers, Jeffrey Archer gets some stick, but having read some of his stuff I know he can write, he’s a story teller, I wish someday I can emulate him. He as a Monet on his wall, worth £12,000,000, the most I can hope for is if he sends me a framed photocopy of it, that’s if his local copy shop has a big enough scanner.
Writing involves thinking, taking what you see and changing it, so if a man walks down the street, what are you going to do to make him more interesting. Does the man have two different coloured shoes on, and if he does why, how can you explain it? Though I can reveal that one lawyer I know did come to work with two different shoes on, because it was dark winter’s day when he got up, without putting his bedroom light on, and the shoes were so similar, thankfully he was not due in court that day otherwise he would have had to go out and buy a new pair of shoes.
You are smiling now because of the shoe story, if you can make your readers smile as they read then they will look up to see the name of the writer at the top of the page. You have to ask yourself what am I trying to do with this sentence, can I build more information, can I lead the readers further down the path or do I have to go to another place with this story.
Now if I was lecturing or talking to you over the radio I’d give you several examples of this or that. Gill from my old computer room days said that I put pictures in people’s head, and then let them enjoy the story, I hope I do and Gill’s observation is one of the kindest things ever said to me. So all writers need to supply information, make stories alive so that the readers can have fun.
I’ve noticed in the corner of the screen that I’ve just gone through 600 words, just as I’ve gone through 6000views for a sample chapter on funny or die. My point being I’d really love the chance to talk to all of my readers, on radio or webcast, then I can tell you all just how I use words, and then you can use them for yourselves. I really believe if I can write  then anybody can write, if I were in a position to  encourage writing then I’d be so happy. 

Tuesday, 19 February 2013

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker


The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

You can now buy my books on Amazon Kindle


The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker (c)                       a comedy drama

Essays and Plays (c)

MichaelCasey'sBlogs2011 (c)

Shoplife (c)                                                                                                      a hit comedy play

300 and Not OUT (c)                                   is my new collection of stories/blogs now on Amazon Kindle


http://michaelgcasey.wordpress.com/ is the new place to look for my blogs just click on it and it will show you my work.  I put stuff on FB to as well as my.telegraph.co.uk/michaelgcasey/


Tears For A Butcher my next book which I'm working on 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.

DSCF4135
There is a very funny play called Shoplife which was called "sparkling,very real, great fun, hilarious, we could not stop reading it. We hope to produce it. Not this season but next."
It could have changed my life, 20years ago, now I'm older,wiser and fatter, and there is also the little matter of being married with children. A great big adventure in itself.


The novel takes place in Old Forge and Singing Anvil a mythical place near the home of the Industrial Revolution. Over 12 chapters the Tale grows, a poet who happens to be an Undertaker. A butcher who sings to the chops he is chopping. A publican who has a secret that dates back to WWII, but makes his pub the best in the region. A priest who gives a unique penance to one of his parishioners. The girl from the dog pound who finds true love when she picks up a stray. An Irish mother who Blackmails the Saints, IF they don't help her she'll never speak to them again. A back street cafe that would get 3 Michelin stars If only Michelin knew where they were, but lucky lorry drivers do know. And then there is a vital friendship between a corner shop owner and the street itself, Love binds them together.


I finish with a poem from Percy the Undertaker

The Dead and The Living (c)
by
Michael Casey
I first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said not
to worry as the dead are the same as the living , only the laughter
has left them , the sparkle has gone from their eyes , the worry has
been lifted from their shoulders , and their voice has vanished to
eternity .
In paradise the sparkle will return for it is the twinkle of the
stars , the laughter will return too for it is the morning breeze and
the turning tides are their sides shaking with laughter .
I treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the living ,
though I find the deceased are always more polite . My father also
had a few words to say about the living .
He said that the living are only the caretakers of the soul , yet
they think their existence is everything , that they know everything
because they experience many things with their senses .
What the living don't acknowledge is that their time is short and
when I lay their bodies to rest then their souls continue without
them , without their strong , without their weak , without their
beautiful or even ugly temporary form , to where I cannot say , only
that it is a better place .
Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free

THE BEGINNING



Thats all , now make me an offer

Publishers/Producers required so get in touch.

CONTACT ME

Email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com with a good subject line


Let There Be Light ©

By Michael Casey


Let my tears be my words

Let the candle light be my eyes

Let the flowers in bloom be my lips

Let their scent be my blood

Let the wind be my breath

Let clouds be my mood

Let children’s laughter be my hope

Let widows’ sighs be my conscience

Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight

Let the bees be my wisdom

Let the trees be my strength

Let my patience reach to the stars

Let me be always remembered in your prayers

Monday, 18 February 2013

Self Help


Self Help©
By Michael Casey

Saw an ad about an article in the Daily Mail. Shakespeare is better for you than self help books. I agree, Americans seem to want a quick fix and this toothy bleached white smile on some book cover says he has all the answers. He gets rich and makes millions, as "sad" people reach for the answers in a self help book. Don't bother go for a walk in the sunshine, kiss a pretty girl, your own one, otherwise you'll bve chased down the street. Have a laugh, light a candle in church, got an talk to an old woman, they are the wisest people on thsi earth. Sing a song along with your radio or hifi. Watch people out your window, guess which door they are going to knock on. Wait for the pizza leaflet man to push a flyer though your door and push it back at him, scream I don't eat pizza at him through the letter box. See how scared he is. Now that is sport, it'll make you laugh. You could even have a water pistol, to soak all the junk mail delivery people with. Life can be such fun, so don't bother with a self help book, hug a granny instead and take something wonderful to bed. A husband a lover, or just just the cat if you don't have anybody human in your life, failing that a good book is great. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1 

Triple or Quadruple?

Triple or Quadruple? Well my 10 year anniversary is coming up I was told prior to my op it would be a triple BUT when I had a 6 month review...