Sunday, 12 January 2014

Moving Pictures


Moving Pictures ©
By Michael Casey

We watched Seven Pounds on tv last night, it got me thinking about moving pictures. The movies, the flicks, because the pictures moved, or flickering when they were first invented, they always touch our hearts. Or they should if they are any good, people were scared when a car or a train was speeding towards them, now we have 3D to scare us.

But what makes a moving picture? If you can connect with the story then it will have more power. In the story there is a hospice with an old lady in it, this reminded me of my dad in the old people’s home, it’s nearly 12 years since dad died. So that obviously made me connect more to this story.

Do writers and producers have a list or a menu, with a pick list of characters to make the story more attractive. The Julian Assange film flopped, they had a great actor, the Sherlock one, and the story was “tarted” up, freedom of press etc. But in the end it failed, maybe because it was about a selfish, arrogant person. So the audience had no sympathy for him.

Disney does have a pick list, if you have young kids in your family, you have to endure Disney. Yes sometimes it is good, very good. But laughter tracks on shows, this really is the pits, you want to throw things at the tv. Then the too sickly sweet aspects and characters. If that was your child, you would have him adopted. So this is moving to hate, instead of love.

Style in a film makes such a big difference, as does the look, is it big and bright with lots of light, or the washed out look. Sometimes just from the credits you know the film will move you, to switch it off. Big thick silver credits, like 1970s glam rock, is a switch off.
So it’s the story which is king, the Shawshank Redemption is a great film because we feel for the hero, the style and the look and the feel all grab us. Robin Hood the Alan Rickman version, again this moved as well as entertained, AR did steal the film too.

So we can go through the list of our favourite films, I can remember Alan a guy I worked with admitting he cried when he saw ET. So Hope and Love must be in the film if it is to touch us. Sex and Violence does sell films and computer games for that matter. However if it’s a just a series of sex and violent bits the film will soon be forgotten, and it will sink.

If a mother just beats her child, the child will not love her. There has to be an X factor to the film, stars don’t make films, stories do. The Pianist is a great film because it’s about real people, its dramatic and you want the pianist to live. You really feel for him. When we saw it we didn’t know who the actor was, we connected to him and the situation, and not just because our daughters were learning piano. We wanted him to live, contrast the Julian Assange film, do we care about Julian, no. And nor does anybody else, hence the film flopped.

It’s hard to know what will finally work, they have test screenings, and even recut films in an attempt to save the producer’s money. On tv years ago Eastenders was shot in gloom, for atmosphere, but if you cannot see a thing how can you enjoy a show. Theatre has fallen into that trap too, I’m not saying everything should be lit like Fox News, but all the toolkit has to be used to make the film work.

Knowing your audience, and not being arrogant to think they will follow anything you put on the screen is important. A conflict and a clash, and a fight and an escape all make for good cinema. But everything starts with a writer for it’s us, who write moving pictures.






Thursday, 9 January 2014

Hair


Hair ©
By
Michael Casey

I had my hair cut yesterday, I was turning into an Old English Sheepdog, so I had it cut. My wife cuts my hair, she used to use just scissors, but then we invested £10 for electric clippers. A haircut is 10quid in most barbers, which is expensive. So the wife does the honours, she is very good. She also cuts the girls’ hair too.
When she used scissors I want told to sit on a chair in the yard, then she’s poke and prod me, just like a sheep having its annual shearing. She’d laugh as she sheared me, pulling my left ear then my right ear, so I’d be in the right position. I’d grumble and watch as the snow fell. The snow being the colour of my hair, but at least my hair is thick and soft. I tell her we should use my hair as stuffing for pillows.

My daughters would come out and tell me I have a bald patch appearing, so I’m some sort of street theatre, or like a sinner in the stocks. Why don’t they invite the neighbours to come and throw cabbage at me. And still the snow falls, no black or brown left, I am Snow White. Maybe that’s why I’m called Granddad when I do the school run.

Finally with a slap here and a slap there, all in aid of getting rid of stray hairs sticking to my body, I am told to stand up and shake myself in the garden, just like a wet dog.  My barber is satisfied with her work, then she demands £10.
Once we had the clippers I was allowed to have my haircut inside, in the warmth of our bathroom. Though sitting on the toilet for 30 mins is not comfortable, again I am prodded and poked and slapped,  like a bullying flower arranger, the flowers would have to be made of steel to survive, but dad was a blacksmith, so I am forged of steel.

Laughing as she works my wife chuckles as she cuts my hair, like a demon catching souls and sending them to hell. The snow continues to fall, I am slapped again, the snow must not block her view of her work. Turn this way, turn that way I am ordered. It feels like regimented foreplay, maybe this is how it’s done in North Korea. I should add my wife wears a bright red Korea Food apron every day, it’s her housefrau look. So I laugh a lot. When she leaves home, she then looks like a model, but not while cutting my hair.

She finishes and tells me I look like Bruce Willis, only I don’t have a vest, just a woolly jumper, with snow stuck to it. So she beats me again, to get the snow, my hair off the jumper. I tell her I’ll keep her another week for her barber skills. And so the romance goes on, she shouts after me to buy some broccoli as a reward for all her hard work. So I buy cabbage instead, men don’t know what vegetables look like, I am Bruce Willis after all. 
   
 this is and old photo, 8 years ago outside Symphony Hall Birmingham 

Wednesday, 8 January 2014

http://www.spreaker.com/user/michaelgcasey to HEAR 127 of my stories 7 hours worth

http://www.spreaker.com/user/michaelgcasey  to HEAR 127 of my stories 7 hours worth

The go to Amazon Kindle and Buy my 7 books just look for Michael Casey


Monday, 6 January 2014

Data Mining or How to create a myth



Data Mining or how to create a myth ©

By Michael Casey

I was on LinkedIn, just annoying folks when I read a piece about data mining. Basically everybody does it. Hotmail had a campaign saying they were whiter than white and Google were the nasty party. Funny how I get junk mails from USA when I’m in the UK, and yes they are from Hotmail, though it’s called Outlook nowadays.

When I was on FB  I shared a joke about mispronunciation with a friend, then he was swamped with ads regarding our joke. So Big Brother is everywhere, has anybody actually read the book 1984, I did at school nearly 40 years ago. The film version with Richard Burton is very good too.

Now we all know about the NSA being naughty, but betraying your own country is far naughtier. So I was wondering how to counter all this spying. I do have a mobile but I use it to listen to the radio in bed. The tabloids won’t catch me that way. Though I’m sure in the end I’ll have my 15mins of fame, or is it torture?
So let’s start some misinformation. Tomorrow 7th Jan 2014, a Tuesday, and every Tuesday I shall go bowling with Obama, just me and Obama, and 150 secret service. It’s one hell of a party and I have to teach Obama how to bowl. The secret service take bets on the side, and will buy Obama a new Jorg Gray watch if ever he beats me.

So if we feed this story into the Internet how long before it’s on MSN News, or Fox. I also play Monopoly with Joe Biden, after I finish beating Obama at bowling. We use the English Monopoly as its more fun. I have promised Joe a role in my next novel. Joe will get to visit Old Forge and Singing Anvil and the pub The Trader.

So if we feed this in with NSA, the SEO people will really love it. So how do myths start?  By bad reporting, and lazy reporting. Or is this an attempt at brazen self-publicity?  It’s copying exactly what 
politicians do.

See you all on the front page of the National Enquirer, or wrapped up in the chips.

Wednesday, 1 January 2014

2014 and all that

Well I've created a new book of short stories.   More Shorts 2014 and you can buy it for $2.99 or less than 2 quid on Amazon World Wide Just look for me in a red and white stripy top and shades.

RADIO PEOPLE GET IN TOUCH AS MY SHORTS ARE PERFECT FOR RADIO,
   I  HAVE 500+ OF THEM

GO TO www.michaelgcasey.typepad.com to HEAR 127 of them.

I would love to publish a book and cd of my shorts with facing page translation in Chinese/Arabic/Spanish/Urdu

SO students of English Language   LISTEN AND READ TO LEARN ENGLISH   WITH A BIT OF HUMOUR.

Monday, 30 December 2013

Against the Clock


Against the Clock ©
By Michael Casey
I’ve not tried this before, honest, trust me I’m a concierge, or so I was, it’s almost 12 years since I started there. I got a new job on the Monday and my dad died on the Saturday.  Now I don’t need to cry any more, what I really was going to say is that I’m going to try and write a new story before Midnight. Then my time is up. Its 11.05 pm now, on your marks get set go.

Stories have a life of their own, you start somewhere then the wind blows you somewhere else. We’ve just watched Pirates of the Caribbean ,  so that was all about tides, and as  we all know Time and Tide does not wait for no man. Work expands to fit the time available, that’s a law of economics, my brother did do economics, he told me that once, so it must be true.  I past that gem on to my daughter so she uses her time on the computer quickly and effectively. She will take all night if I allow it, time management is a very important lesson to learn in my book.

My Latin teacher Mr Procter used to tell us to do 40mins translation as homework.  However   as Latin is so hard, I always did 90mins, to pretend I only did 40 mins.  Time is a strange thing,   if you are waiting time does drag, if you are enjoying yourself it does pass quicker. A concierge will enjoy conversation with all comers, but part of the concierge role is to fill time while guests are waiting for friends or taxis. And to know when to shut up when guests’ friends arrive.

I still believe that my life has not begun, I’m 55 now with a wife who looks 25, she’s a Shanghai girl, and our bilingual daughters are 10 and 12. I want a book tour and my stories on the radio everywhere,  then I’ll think my life has begun. Yes, I may be in my box with pennies on my eyes before that happens, but I’ll keep on trying.

You cannot beat the clock, life is what it is and what will be will be, or should I say Que Sera Sera, films are a great way to pass the time. We watch so many in our house, my daughters will work in film is some way.  Film reviewers or writers or costume makers  or all of the above. In the advert breaks we discuss this and that in the film. Tonight it was music in Pirates of the Caribbean, not a deep intellectual conversation, they are 10 and 12 after all, but how music works in film. Both daughters are in the choir and have piano lessons, one daughter is doing a Deans award. So they do already know about the beauty and skill in music, thanks to Betty their 84 year old  music teacher.

How you use the time you have is important too, yes there can be fallow times, but quiet times do recharge the batteries.  Then once the starter’s gun goes you can have a vast outpouring of creativity, ask any musician. Churchill had his wilderness year, but he did make up for it.
We all work at different rates, at different skill levels. Some may be chefs with amazing knowledge and skill,  I did pass through the kitchen on my security patrols when at CPNEC Birmingham. I did get to talk to the lads too, and best of all taste their food. So chefs are gods, even if I tease them, they told me they lived on biscuits and never cooked at home.  A chef will prepare for hours so that we can enjoy an almost sexual experience, closing our eyes and consuming or consummating food.

Life is short and we may not get the time to enjoy a friendship, somebody you only spoke to only a few times, and then they were gone, or job changes meant you never spoke again.  I have a friend I have not seen in years as our paths diverged, but if ever we stumble over each other again, I know it will be a great Stella Artois occasion. Another friend has been a friend for 44 years, and perhaps I don’t appreciate how lucky I am to have this friend. He’ll groan if he ever reads this.
Life and time and friends are precious, you can meet old friends and the conversation continues, as if it’s just two seconds since you last spoke. That’s why it’s so important to enjoy the moment, don’t waste time on negative emotions, you owe me 2 quid from 10 years ago, so I hate you. I got a load of grief from a kid in school for a full year. Why? Because I beat him by 9 points when all of us added all  the exam results up to work out who was top of the class. How petty can you be?  I could reveal  horrible  facts about him, but I won’t waste my breath or spit as they say in China.

I’m looking at the clock now 45 mins to reach here. So I’ll read from the top and think of an ending. Well to end in 5 minutes, what shall I say. Use the clock don’t fight against it, I was able to visit my dad for 1 hour before work, every working day, and then go to work. This was great use of time.

 I also spent years talking to him when I lived at home and when I’d left home. I’d come for the dinner and then go home. Some call this quality time, or even multitasking. I just know that I loved him, we were more like brothers. And that is the greatest use of anybody’s time. Spend time loving your parents. It was  the Feast of the Holy Family today, and time with family  is the greatest use of time, and its Midnight now.


Saturday, 28 December 2013

Sleeping Beauty


Sleeping Beauty ©
By
Michael Casey

Sleep is a great thing, it’s a form of food, an hour before twelve is better than 2 after. We all recite this as we encourage our kids to go to bed, and then  again in the morning when they cannot get out of bed. Sleep is good, it’s a bear necessity, just ask  Baloo from the Jungle Book. With a good night’s rest we can face any dawn.

Lack of sleep makes us very grouchy without any Marx, it leaves bad marks on our day, on all our interactions, we are not fully switched on. So a good night’s rest is better than any medicine. So how do you get ready for bed? Some say exercise before bedtime makes us tired so that we fall asleep quickly.

Switch all those gadgets OFF, don’t fill our mind with rubbish, or work, or anything. Perhaps we should all listen to the Book at Bedtime. Or a bit of passion to wear us out before bedtime.  A cup of cocoa  or any other metaphor,  or just the real thing, a cup of cocoa, or ovaltine, whatever warm drink you prefer.

So you are all ready for bed, then you must have a cosy bed to lie in. Soft pillows and enough blankets. When I grew up duvets were not invented,  yes we did have one eiderdown in the whole house, buy blankets were king. In winter we’d all have 5 or 6 blankets, and they were so heavy, you could hardly breathe.

Then there was no central heating either, a sheet of ice would be on the windows in the morning. Double glazing had not been invented either. And if you wanted the toilet in the night, you would have to go outside.

A bed would have rubbish mattresses on them, nothing compared to today. And they were all stripy as were the pillows,  like prison issue, black and white stripes. I did treat myself to a nice bed and mattress when I moved home, and  a duvet too. Becoming middle class I supposed.

Once in bed sleep leads to dreams, your own private cinema in your head, though Salvador Dali seems to be the projectionist. Strange dreams, nice dreams and nightmares too, my latest dream had me teaching again, I don’t know what classification of dream that is. Though using my books as teaching tools is a kind of dream I now having, a waking dream, a hope.

You wake up and then you cannot get back to the same dream, or when you awake you forget the dream. Why do we forget dreams, is it a rule, a law of bedtime, only Peter Pan can remember dreams, he is a dream pirate.
If you are very lucky you sleep through the night, and awake refreshed, I wonder is this a rarity in today’s world. Shifts and stuff challenge the natural rhythm, we get up in the dark and go to work. Cave men only lived in daylight, they followed nature.

One job I had was the graveyard shift, 6pm to 2.30am, I’d wake up my taxi driver and then get home by 3am, I’d never be in bed till 4am. Though I did discover that this time aided reproduction. It took me 3 months to deprogram  my body so I slept when I went to bed  and not stay awake for hours till 4am chimed. Though I then automatically woke up at 4am instead.

Sleep and a good bed are essential, it’s what makes us civilised, and children of all ages just love bouncing on beds. Watching a child’s joy as they count the bounces on a new mattress is such a great thing. So tonight when you go to bed and before you snuggle down like Baloo the bear, just do one thing for me, bounce on your bed.


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