2013 Report Card

2013 Report Card ©

By Michael Casey

Well this may be my last piece of writing for 2013, so I may as well copy everybody else and write a report card. This year has been the most painful in my life, Arthritis came a calling. I did hurt my back a few years ago then at intervals I had back pain.  One period resulted in me being confined to bed for a week and screaming a lot, so the neighbours wondered why.

This year in March my left thigh hurt, it didn’t get better. Finally after 2 Xrays all was revealed, I had a hip problem and 2 “thingys” at the bottom of my back weren’t having much fun either. Then I saw a surgeon, Arthritis and hip replacement were mentioned. In the end I had a cortisone injection which should look after the pain for a year.

Arthritis is a bastard though, you have it here and you  have it there, you cannot sleep on this side or that side and then you get pain somewhere else as you are sleeping in a new funny position. Then there are the painkillers. My mother had arthritis, she had buckets of pain killers which she never took, just stockpiled over the pantry door. Very occasionally she gave in and had a pill.

I’ve decided not to have any painkillers, as they’d just destroy my organs and I’d turn into Michael Jackson. So I wait till the pain almost makes me scream, and then I squirt gel and rub that in. Kicks in in about 5 mins.

Arthritis is as unpredictable as the weather, so my hip may not hurt but it’s the turn of someplace else to hurt, back or shoulder or any other joint. Speaking of joints I heard that some people use joints for pain relief, I never have or would as I hate smoke of any kind. I am an Arthritis Virgin compared to some of the people I have met, so I hope if any of you read this you may understand just what your Nan or teacher or old Mr Jones in the street is going through.

2013 saw Facebook die on me, I may have upset MZ, or I think I was hacked, as my location was North South East West and any other place, where I never have been, I was even in Westminster Hall, and outside Downing St, and in USA, at Palo Alto where all the Tech companies live, I was even in the White House. So were Assad and North Korea’s boy trying to find me and my ISP hiding me. It also had the wrong browser when I checked my details on FB. So this Panzi, this Fat Fat Boy, as is my Chinese nickname, what my wife calls me to her mother, is dead to Facebook.

LinkedIn is useful for making connections, so I’m trying that, I’m waiting to meet my big business partner. My writing can be used for a variety of things. You can just read and laugh. Or you can use my stuff to teach English as a 2^nd language, I was an Esol teacher, 2 excellents and an exemplary, yes really. You could even use my writing to teach customer service, I was a concierge in a 4star business hotel for 3 years.

So 2013 has been a game of two halves, pain and hope. Sounds like some bondage game, and no I’ll leave that to Dr Who, if you have seen the Christmas show. You must always put pain to one side and enjoy life as best you can. So long as I can type then Arthritis will never win. I’m able to bore, irritate my readers, well just the DT ones. The others I hope enjoy the tales I tell.

2013 saw me spend more time with my daughters, as a housfrau, making more of their meals, as my wife worked more. For my daughters a change from rice with everything was a small blessing. Shanghai/Birmingham blood means they follow Chinese diet 90% of the time. As well as food there is TV.

Sharing TV favourites with your daughters is great, it’s a bonding experience. Though schoolwork comes first and TV second. We enjoy films together too, so if they become 21^st Century Barry Normans I will be happy. Though some Disney shows are dire, with a really horrible laughter track, does Disney know laughter tracks are hated in UK, ok, maybe just by me.

Getting daughters to spent less than an hour in the shower, as you scream through the door. “ The Electric Bill, The Electric Bill” Just like Kenneth William in a Carry On film. This is one of the many things you learn as a housfrau. That and going out to get them chocolate or chips from the corner shops, if you cannot buy your daughters these things then you don’t really love them. That’s how daughters “blackmail” dads, and no dad would want it any other way.

So how should I finish my 2013 Report Card?  Love your daughters love them lots, and then they’ll visit you often in the old peoples home, and then they will bring you, chocolate and chips. Happy 2014 everybody.

Serendipity

Serendipity ©

By

Michael Casey

Serendipity is a tricky word to spell, especially if you are tired and your back aches, but serendipity IS part of my life. How I got my first job in computers when they were a new thing, that was serendipity, my brother said “try computers” and I applied for one job and then hey presto I had 22 good years earning good money.

My mother’s death was unexpected and how our dad survived his major heart attack 8 weeks later was miraculous in the words of the priest. Though dad did stay 12 weeks in hospital and was given just a week to live and they would not revive him if he had another heart attack. However I do know how to pray, I wrote all about it in Padre Pio and Me.

The serendipity bit was meeting my wife in the old people’s home, and dad did live long enough to see us wed and to hold our daughter in his arms. So I do love serendipity. It is part of my life.

Discovering writing and the fact that I could write was serendipity again, however finding publishers/producers is the hard bit, writing IS easy, selling your stuff, now that is next to impossible. Though today I’ve gone through the 13,000 views mark for a post on funny or die. So 22^nd Dec 2013 is a red letter day.

I’ve been writing short pieces of writing for a few years now, which means I have 500 plus shorts, which are funny in themselves, and those which are not comic pieces are interesting and intelligent. So I’ve made collections of them on Amazon Kindle,  I have six books in total. I could finish Tears for a Butcher my 7^th book, that would take the whole of 2014 to do, in fact the 1^st chapter is on funny or die and it’s that which has earned 13,000 views.

So what I need next is some serendipity to help sell my books of shorts. I have recorded 127 short stories, 6 hours 50 mins,  and put them on www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com  As I was an Esol teacher I know students of English would enjoy some light reading, so a book with a cd and a translation would work. So students Listen, Read and Learn English with Michael Casey, you could have a translation on the facing page in Spanish/Chinese/Arabic/Urdu/Korean/Japanese or whatever.

So this is my new angle to sell my stories, I have a comic tale about Santa on my site, perfect for Xmas 2013. I have made a lot of new connections on Linkedin and my hope is that some of them give British humour a try.

I have in fact stumbled on the perfect partner and I hoped they agree and get back to me after the holidays. What attracted you to your wife? Was it her looks and curves? If it was, then you are stupid, because looks fad, laughter lasts. Me, my wife made me laugh, yes she does look like a model, far prettier than a model, but that’s not why I married her. She made me laugh, when we first met, she was in disguise if you like, her pretty was hidden as she said to me. See photos at the end of this piece.

Chance and Luck do play a part in our lives, if I was a lazy unloving son, I would not have met my wife. I visited my dad every single day for 3 years, only then did I meet the future Mrs Casey.

Mark at work once said I was  good stumbler and I suppose I am, but being able to improvise is a good gift too. Wait till you have your kids then you’ll soon learn to be quick thinking, you need eyes in the back of your head to watch for potential danger. Then you need a cot and a playpen and all the other baby stuff.  Luckily for me, my brother had kept all the baby stuff so I kind of inherited it.

As a writer I’ve written about all the stuff we all do with our kids, but hopefully in a really amusing way, so I know everybody who reads my stuff can connect to what I’m writing about. A modern Shanghai/Birmingham Adams family if you like. Some themes are international and eternal, so that when you read and listen to the stories they make you smile and you enjoy learning English, it’s not a chore.

Now all I need is a bit more Serendipity and Bob’s your Uncle, though that phrase may confuse some English students.

The Twelve Days of Christmas in one day? by Michael Casey (c)

The Twelve days of christmas
12pints of Stella Artois
11 bags of crisps
10 packets of peanuts
9  indian currys
8 kebabs
7 fish and chips
6 bottles of cola
5 packets of mints to hide your breath from the wife
4 missed phone calls
3 fallings over
2 bangs on your head
1 unconscious all christmas day in your bed
Merry Christmas Everybody and a Peaceful New Year
michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
michaelgcasey.typepad.com
6 books on Amazon Kindle perfect for hangovers

I want to be on the radio a love stort

I want to be on the radio©

By Michael Casey

Michael was security guard at AllUWant  chain store, he’d been there a number of years, he enjoyed meeting people and helping out. Occasionally he’d have to run when a thief came a visiting, he was not very good at running as he was big, or fat if you want the truth. But he was good at improvising,  he always had a plastic carrier with him. So if a thief came he soon knocked them to the ground, he was a good shot, so he threw the plastic carrier at them. A thief cannot run if his legs are inside a carrier.

So Michael was held in high regard by the owner, the Old Forge and Singing Anvil store had the lowest theft rates in the whole of England. So everybody was happy, but Michael harboured a dream, he wanted to be a radio star. Well not a star, he just wanted a quiet corner to read out his stories, he’d been writing a long time, but nobody knew, apart from the girl at the stationary store where he bought his paper and ink. He’d shown her his stuff and she was his number one fan, if only he’d ask her out, she fancied him something rotten. 

www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com was his site and he’d recorded his stories there.

Doris would lay on her bed and listen to Michael reading his stories, he had 500 of them, she just wished he was lying on the bed next to her. Doris wanted Michael but she was too shy to say. She promised herself that one day she pluck up the courage to tell him

Michael had had a busy day and he’d caught 3 thieves, a family in fact. Sgt. Mulholland had taken them away with a smile. He’d have them playing chess against him while they were in the cells. Michael had managed to bang his head while he captured the thieves, a little blood was running down into his eyes.

Doris had been visiting  AllUWant when she saw the bulk of Michael, her heart skipped a beat, she noticed the blood trickling down into his eyes. Her maternal instincts kicked in, she ran towards him and grabbed him by the arm.

“Michael, you are wounded, let me take a look at that,” she said as she looked into his eyes. She took out her hanky and spat in it, then like a mother she wiped the blood away.

“This looks bad, you need to apply pressure and then put a bandage on,” she chided him. Then taking his hand in hers she led him to the first aid point. Her heart beat more, his heart beat more. Had it taken a beating about the head, for the drumbeat of love to be heard.  They made their way to the office.

“Here sit on the desk and I’ll apply pressure she said,” as she pushed him back on the desk. That push would change both their lives. For accidentally she had switched the tannoy on, the whole of AllUWant would hear everything.

“Let me look at that wound, just apply pressure then I’ll put a bandage on,” she cooed.

“You are really gentle, you’ll make a great mum someday,” replied Michael.

She pushed too much on the wound.

“Oow, “ that hurts screamed Michael, his screams echoing around AllUWant.

“Sorry, but I’d need a boyfriend before I could be a mum,” replied Doris as she looked deep into his eyes.

“I assumed you had one already, I mean you’re a big girl,” observed Michael.

“You saying I’m Fat?” asked Doris indignantly.

“ No, you’re perfect, I mean, I think you’re perfect,” replied Michael starting to blush.

“ I think you’re perfect too, when I listen to your stories on the computer while I lay on my bed at night, I think it would be so much better if you were on the bed besides me. The real thing, and not just a voice on the computer,” replied Doris

Cheers echoed through AllUWant, people had stopped to listen and enjoy an unfolding love story.

“Tell us one of your stories,” pleaded Doris. She had decided, he was going to be hers, she would be a mum, and he would be the dad.

“Which one?” asked Michael his heart beat going faster.  He looked at her and she looked at him, they twinkled even, twinkling said it all. It was like a comet across the night sky.

Michael told a tale or three, people in AllUWant listened, he really was a good storyteller, he actually wrote stories and could tell them so well. The tannoy echoed. Michael and Doris were in love, the urge was upon them.

“Kiss me,” whispered Doris.

“Kiss you where?” whispered Michael.

The whole store looked up to the first aid office, they could see Michael and Doris kissing. They could hear the heavy breathing too, this was true love.

Roger had been on car park patrol, he had a megaphone in his hand. He watched and listened from the store floor, just by the toilet rolls.

“Michael if you and Doris are going to make love, please turn off the tannoy first,” he laughed through the megaphone.

Doris slowly switched off the tannoy, she had Michael where she wanted him.

The next day Michael was summoned to the office, it must be the sack nothing else. Doris was by his side, she’d tell them it was all her fault, it was the urge and so on. Mr Blair was there, things didn’t look good.

“I heard about yesterday, and I only have one thing to say,” began Mr Blair.

“It’s all my fault Mr Blair, I just realised how much I love Michael  I’ve been listening to his stories for months, all 500+ of them.  Every night hearing his voice as I lay naked on my bed. It’s too much, a girl can only take so much, nature is nature,” explained Doris.

Michael realised he may have lost his job, but he had got something better in exchange, he had got Doris, or rather she had him.

“Michael, get a room, in fact just get married, I’m giving you 2 weeks off, I have this cottage in the Virgin Islands, your honeymoon will be there, but don’t make too much noise, Richard Branson is a neighbour,” ordered Mr Blair.

“That’s so generous,” gushed Doris.

“When you come back Michael, there will be changes. I want you to record all 500+ of your stories, we had feedback from the shoppers, they all want to buy copies of your stories, and AllUWant always gives shoppers AllTHEYWant,”  declared Mr Blair.

So Michael and Doris went to the Virgin Islands for their honeymoon, and as they lay naked on their marriage bed, Michael told Doris stories, lots of stories 500 times over.

Santa's stuck up the chimney

Santa is stuck up the chimney ©

By Michael Casey

There’s a noise upstairs, so I push the wife forward, while I watch her back. She grabs here cleavers on the way up the stairs, one Shanghai wife two meat cleavers. She stamps her feet to make noise to frighten the intruder, or is it to boast her courage.

Meanwhile I switch off Phoenix TV and a Date with LuLu, I want to watch the BBC news instead. Upstairs I can hear a scuffle, then a whoosh, 9 reindeer appear at the bottom of out stairs. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen, and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Quickly followed by Santa sitting in his sleigh, with Jing Jie sitting besides him.

I’ll bring your wife a new set of German knives for Christmas says Santa, the Zwilling J.A. Henckels ones, with the picture of the two men on. So smiling JJ sits down and switches back to Phoenix. So I have to play host to Santa.

I get Santa  a cup of  green tea with brown sugar in it, as I mention brown sugar Santa starts to dance, he’s a very old Rolling Stones fan. He got Charlie Watts a new drum kit ten years ago, Charlie had worn it out with too much Jazz. Santa just adores Jazz too. Keith Richards got an Atomic Rooster pace maker, how else could he do the 50^th anniversary shows.

Mick Jagger got a re-tread for his lips, and some new knicker elastic, with all his moves he needed it. The other one, he got a Donny Osmond album, his musical tastes are mind blowing eclectic after all,  just listen to his show if you don’t believe me.

As Santa enjoyed his tea the reindeer grazed on our carpet, we hope to replace it soon, so I wasn’t too annoyed. Besides if we move the glass table it’ll hide the bare patches, won’t it?

Santa looked around casually, “I know what you really want” he said. I nodded “ a new house.” I cannot promise anything said Santa, it is Friday the 13^th after all, maybe a dolls house for your daughter.” I laughed and  drunk my own green tea.

Jing Jie was laughing, Mr Zhou the comedian was on Phoenix, I laughed too, his body language is so funny, no need to understand Mandarin. Santa and the reindeer fell over on the floor laughing, they do of course know Mandarin. It’s the way Mr Zhou tells them, he may have watched a Frank Carson video in the past.

So I asked Santa what he was doing in our loft. Birmingham is so nice nowadays was the reply, the reindeer wanted to eat the plants from the roof of the new library. That’s the real reason the roof top gardens were added, the architect is a friend of Santa’s.

So if you want a visit from Santa make sure you have a plant or two growing on your windowsill, the reindeer do of course adore poinsettia. The reason why poinsettia is red is because Rudolph had an accident and it changed the plant forever, so blame Rudolph.

But why our house Santa? It was the sounds of carols being sung by my daughters, reindeer are attracted to carols, they home in on them. As the girls are in a choir and practice, not to mention Capital radio being on too. It was too much for the reindeer, they fell out of the sky into our house.

So I gave Santa more green tea with brown sugar, as for the reindeer they continued to graze on the carpet. I think I’ll have to move to sofa to cover the bare patch. My wife continued to laugh with Mr Zhou, the reindeer and Santa chuckled too.

It was nearly time for Santa and the reindeer to go, they had to visit a few lonely churches to cheer up the clergy, would people discover faith, hope and love this Christmas. As for our carpet Santa said if I Faith then on Christmas day a new carpet would appear with the book of Kells pattern.

I just hope Santa’s right, otherwise I’ll have to move the sofa.   

How to Handle a Client

How to handle a client (c)

By Michael Casey

A client is like a girlfriend who you wine and dine, and hope she’ll marry you. If you keep that idea in mind then the business relationship will work and pay dividends. If you treat a client like fast food you’ll end up getting gas, which is not what anybody wants.

It leaves a bad atmosphere literally. remember if you do good you’ll get x 4 more customers. 

If you do bad then you lose x 10 customers. Also you must change the sales pitch to fit each individual customer. It makes more work for you BUT the results are better.

A salesman must be a cross between a priest and a hairdresser, somebody who can be confided in. You are not selling burgers at a Red Sox match, you are inviting your customers to be part of the family.

And I don’t mean joining the Mafia either. That kind of close relationship, means your calls are answered and even looked forward to. If nobody is taking your calls then you’ve got it wrong.

Michael Casey

p.s. my play Shoplife “teaches” customer service, by showing you what NEVER to do.

Street Clock

Street Clock  ©

By

Michael Casey

I  love watches, I’ve told everybody this before, but today I want to talk about my Street Clock. A what? A Street Clock. What am I on about, I’m talking about my street clock. It’s not mine really, it’s my small daughters. The street clock tells us are we on time for school.

So is it a speaking clock in the street perhaps? No, its how the street tells us the time. In ancient times seamen looked to the skies to tell them the time and their destination. We have Stonehenge here in England, and it is an astronomical clock. Then you have the Mayan calendar and wasn’t it supposed to be the end of the world recently? Or did somebody overwind the Mayan clock?

No my Street Clock is how me and my daughter know we are on time. First we see the blue jaguar going into the works at the bottom of the road, it’s a car not a strangely coloured wild animal.  Then  there is my old workmate, we see him at the bottom of the road taking his small ones to school. Then there is a lady and her dog just before the zebra crossing outside the library.

These events are regular events, as regular as the day itself, we know if we are on time or not, just by how far along the road and how far on our route we have travelled. So no need to take our gloves off to peer at our watch, the street itself is our watch.

There is a steep bit next, slippy  with fallen Autumn leaves, but once past that piece of road it’s not too steep. We see the old man warming up his old car, we wave hello as we pass. In the distance we can see Mrs Mum and her son, depending how far up the road we are we can gauge the time. They are going to one school while we go to the big school on the hill next to the woods.

Then we turn right and meet the main road, which is more like a slide at a funfair as it bends and weaves down the hill so much. We see Mr Old Smoker, he must be 75, he has a funny walk and always has a roll your own cigarette between his fingers.

Then there is another bit of hill, Mrs Three Children appears, she has a pushchair and 2 older kids with her. We are nearly at the zebra crossings and Mrs Murphy the lollypop lady. All is well, now finally I take off my glove to show my daughter the time. We are  early.

Sometimes we are just in time, because of this or because of that. But we know the time already, because our Street Clock has told us we are running a bit late or not. The school bell rings, I watch Mrs Murphy stop the traffic and my small  daughter enters the school yard. I wave goodbye as my daughter enters the school. Now  time to go home for my breakfast, its all downhill now, downhill to my breakfast.

Is this a photo os a YETI footprint in  our garden?