spring is coming so look out for new material

Spring is coming so look out for new material

you can buy my 7 books on Amazon Kindle just look for my face

Trust

Trust ©

By

Michael Casey

I’ve mentioned on LinkedIn and in my essays/stories the soap on Phoenix TV, the Chinese station, 785 on Sky UK. So thinking about that and other events I’m thinking about impressions.

What kind of impression do you make with your LinkedIn profile for example. I’ve put a silly photo up on mine for example, I am a humour writer after all, so I’m never going to look Business Professional. So how do you impress, and what kind of impression do you make?

The first time I met my wife she had a vacuum cleaner in her hand and she told me to get out of the way, she was cleaning my dad’s room. She was very scruffy with bad hair. Now when she leaves the house and it is 2 babies and 15 years later she can stop traffic. Though the girl I fell in love with was the scruffy one, not the model.

So what kind of impression do you make? You talk to somebody and you get one impression, then when you finally meet them you are pleased or disappointed. Good things can come covered in all kinds of wrapping paper. Wrapping paper is another story I wrote, look it up later, you’ll enjoy it.

You talk or write or should I say email somebody, then you discover through his words that you don’t have anything in common. In fact you can even hate the SOB because it was all just a scam to get you to invest in this or that.

I don’t know about you but at some point in your life your patience will snap. Or rather you’ll decide to put yourself first. I’m in part two and less of my life now, so I don’t want to waste time when I could be doing something nicer. I did put myself first  when I left the hotel I worked in, after 3 years of very hard work I put myself and my toddlers first. They changed my shifts so I left. Seeing my kids was more important than the job.

You may meet rich sponsors who could change your life, they can make your dreams come true. They make a great impression on you, or so they think. Then you think about it and realise they are not helping you, they are helping themselves.

The only person worth impressing is yourself, you have to talk to your own soul, is this really what you want. Do you want to talk to these people or not.  Do you want to work with them, if something is too good to be true then it is. Don’t do it.

We used to have road shows for homes abroad, perm tanned people with year round deep sun tans. They’d come and boast about living in the sun, getting away from British weather and how cheap it was to buy a home in the sun. Let’s just say that I’m glad I never meet those people ever again.

Obviously they make a bad impression, and I don’t know about you but once my mind is set nothing changes it. Yes give people the benefit of the doubt, but if they are bad they are always bad. Wolves in sheep’s clothing, suits don’t mean honesty, quite the reverse. We all remember from our Bible, that if people cannot be trusted with small things they cannot be trusted with large.

Money goes to money and that is their faith. So why am I saying all this, because I could be on the cusp of big chances, though close but no cigar seems to be the story of my life. So really I’m writing this for myself. A final thing to remember just trust yourself, never believe in praise, and ignore negative people, don’t even listen to them. You will know the answer in your heart.

Jane Fonda and Me

Jane Fonda and Me©

By

Michael Casey

What can I say about Jane Fonda, Barbarella springs to mind, it was  strange and weird and sexy, and comic and science fiction. Duran Duran the Birmingham pop group took their name from a character in the film, they say Lady Di loved that band.  Jane was in Klute as well. Her daughter was in a few good films as well, playing an assassin, as well as a really good film set in Paris with a Chinese actor, that film was really good, Chung Win Fat was the actor I think. Jane Fonda’s brother Peter was in Easy Rider. Not forgetting her dad Henry, one of the best actors ever.

So why am I talking about them, or rather her? Well in the paper it said Jane Fonda was 76 and now afraid of her own mortality. My mum was 76 when she died in the marriage bed beside her husband of 47 years. Jane has had a few husbands, but that is Hollywood. Why is she afraid of death? If I had produced a body of work as an actress, and as a keep fit guru, I’d be happy with my life. Then her family achievements, it’s great by any standard.

So why should she be afraid? If you are at peace with yourself and your God, if you have one, then any time parting is fine. I’m not saying I don’t mind not waking up in the morning, I’d love to see my grandchildren, my own children are not even teenagers yet. My children only have one grandparent and grannie is in Shanghai, far far away from Birmingham. So I’d like to be there when and if any next generation of Caseys arrive, though as I have daughters the Casey name could disappear.

So what’s wrong with Jane Fonda? Inner Peace. Or rather the lack of it would be my guess. Life is strange, perhaps I’m only talking about my own, or perhaps not. Life is a game of roulette as my brother once said. Something bad can lead to something good. Ending up a computer operator and after only applying for one such job DID change my life.

So what can I teach Jane Fonda, exercise routines? I’d probably have a heart attack in 5 minutes if I tried her workouts. Fashion and beauty tips? My wife could, but not me. Acting, I could teach her to look like a pig in a poke. My Chinese name is Panzi which means Fat Fat Boy, though my bilingual daughters said it really means PIG. But I laugh even more now because I know the true meaning.

Laughter Jane that’s what I can teach you, laughter, real laughter. Yes we are all going to be in a pine box someday, but just enjoy your friends and family. I could say live in the fast lane, but I won’t. Just look inside your own head Jane, that’s where the beauty is, not on the red  carpet.  For what’s in your head will be what carries on when you  are in that pine box. So enjoy your interior life not the interior decorations.

Speak Clearly, Write Simply

Speak Clearly, Write Simply©

By

Michael Casey

I don’t know about you but I am NOT impressed by people who speak in circles. By people who want to blind everybody else with science so to speak. Talk simply and clearly, so the majority understand without having to scratch their heads.

Yes in ages past, the peasants could not understand what the master was saying, so he must be right because we are the ill educated, and he is the master after all. Then the printing press was invented and everybody could read. So we were not as impressed with the master’s learning.

Then you get the great writers, are some trying to impress themselves, polishing their own ego. I like a good story, either well told or well written, storyteller is the 2^nd old profession in the world. Somebody had to tell the rest of the tribe what went on in the bushes, or whatever was the ancient equivalent of behind the bike sheds.

We have the quality newspapers and the tabloids, the style is different in each. You have the Dan Browns and the Jeffery Archers, each tells things differently. One is a storyteller and the other thinks because his plots are good people will put up with the lack of good storytelling.

Frank Cason used to say “It’s the way I tell them,” and he was right. Telling tales is a skill, a great skill, the storyteller got a seat by the fire, and a bite to eat, nowadays they are called After Dinner Speakers. It is an industry in itself, I’d love to get my foot in that door.

The use of words as toys, that can be built like Lego into many different things. You have love songs which will pluck at your girl’s heart strings and get you into her bed. We have songs that’ll make your blood boil as you march off to war. We have melodies that bring tears to all our eyes, simple words can have so much power. Think of Last Night of The Proms.

A speech in the House of Commons has rallied the Nation in time of war, mere words have changed a nation’s course in History itself. I believe that it is the simple clear words that have counted most, which have exploded through History, and beaten tyrants into the dust.

So all you writers and speakers out there, this is not The Good Old Days, with Leonard Sachs introducing the acts. Communication   means what it says, the transfer of ideas from one person to another. And if the ideas are not being transfer then it’s your fault and not theirs, so keep it simple, or do you enjoy the sound of your own voice?

We all love Freebies

We all love Freebies ©

By

Michael Casey

I used to work in a 4 star deluxe business hotel, CPNEC Birmingham, I was there for 3 years. It was hard work and low pay. Hotels say why should we pay you, if the guests are going to tip you. Its scandalous really. It was though the most fun in my working life. As Steve said at the interview road show, hard work but fun.

We had a toy fair and there was a meeting room full of toys. It was the company that had  the green dinosaur toy. Come home time I helped the guest clear away the toys and load his van. There was a small tricycle, and I did have a 3 year old, so I mentioned it and he gave it to me. That was a very kind man, so God Bless him.

I had to walk across the field to the train station, then catch the train from the NEC to New Street. Then I had to cat the bus, and finally I had to walk down the road, all the time holding the tricycle for my daughter.

She was so pleased, as was I, a toy I couldn't afford, but thanks to the nice man my daughter had a bike. My brother 30 years previously had bought my sister a tricycle, with his student grant.

Another time we had a Jaguar even, 12 brand new jags in the car park, wining and dining people, then a spin in the Jag. A team of people just polishing and valeting the jags too. My job was to deliver Jaguar car coats to the rooms. at the end of the 3 day event there were a couple of official Jaguar car coats left over, or rather body warmer gilet things. So I was given one.

Now the organiser and me were chatting and I said I had toddlers at home, so it was a very nice surprise when a few days later a very very posh teddy bear arrived with a note, thanks Michael.

These events make all the hard work worthwhile. Sometimes there'd be a letter from Japan or from a former Nato  diplomatic officer praising all the hard work and care we provided. That's the standard CPNEC Birmingham provided, I imagine they still do.

Generally though I was too busy all around the hotel doing 10 different jobs to make any tips.  Once Roger the driver counted 12 different things I did, and he did say I shouldn't do all of them as it was not my job. Me, as I had a wife and toddlers to feed, it was great to have any job.

Today right now I'm sampling another freebie, it’s called Word Online, it really is a great product. It looks so clean and crisp. And no Bill Gates hasn't paid me to say that. It’s good, and IF I can download what I'm writing to my own hard drive then it’s perfect.

So Bill, Michael Casey the writer of 7 books, available on Amazon Kindle just loves your new product. And his latest piece written today 21st Feb 2014 was first written on Word Online, you can all read it at www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

And that recommendation is my freebie to Bill Gates, do you think he can afford 3 bucks to buy my books?

this is my hotel look

I AM a Poet

I AM a Poet ©

By

Michael Casey

I’m a poet, yes I am. I can rhyme mine with thine. Or whatever. I can repeat a verse two or three times, thinking its improving with repetition . I can write an ode to a toad, I can talk about slime and mud, and splash as the toad escapes. What if it’s really a frog who can tell the difference anyway?

I can wax lyrically about the moon in the night sky, even if nobody really knows what “wax lyrically” means. It’s to do with the bikini line isn’t it, or uni-brow removal. The moon the moon, why does it make us swoon?  The moon the moon, why does it make us swoon?  See if I repeat the line it makes it ever so much more powerful. I am the new Lord Byron. You don’t know who HE is/was/whatever can’t you just go Google?

The heart, the heart, it bleeds and weeps when we are apart, I cannot stand the pain, that’s why I have all the weight gain. Oh comfort eating, oh comfort eating, that’s why my pants are splitting, because I miss you so much, the pain the anguish, the soul destroying anguish. When will you be back from the shops with my triple size frozen family size pizza. Then the longing, the tears will stop.

You rush through the door, I can see you once more, you drop the plastic bags to the floor. The pizza rolls out across the floor, I rescue it from the cat, who’s just finished a nap, stretching stretching, the cat claws at the pizza wrapper. Such a clever cat, it delights in being a chef, pussy just loves pepperoni, so I flip the pizza in the oven, gas mark 7.

Then I turn my attention to my love, sent from heaven above, removing her gloves to put her hands in the suds to warm her beautiful hands, from the cold cold cold cold outside. 4 repetitions  in a sentence, such great poetry. As I wipe her hands on the tea towel I look into her eyes, yes she did bring me a surprize, a surprize I can see in her eyes. Triple double dip donuts, she loves me she love me, the Lord Byron of Birmingham.

The cat rubs his body against the oven, the house is so cold, we can’t afford to  keep the heating on, we huddle against the oven for warmth. Soon the pizza is ready, soon the pizza is ready, it is ready soon. We are over the moon as soon the pizza is ready. The cat claws at the oven door, the oven door is clawed at by the cat, how the cat claws at the oven door, how the cat claws at the oven door.

The smell of the pizza fills the house, the smell of the pizza fills the house, how the pizza fills the house with its smell, the smell the smell, all is well, the pizza is done, the pizza is done.

The smoke alarm rings and rings and rings, the pizza is ready the pizza is ready, are you ready too, are you ready too. The pizza is ready. You open the oven door, you open the oven door, the oven door is open. The cat is ready with its claw, the cat is ready with its claw.

The pizza is flung, the pizza is flung, like a frisbee, like a frisbee  it is flung on the table. The cat the cat is ready for that. The cat is clever the cat is clever, such a clever pussy, such a clever pussy. The cat divides the pizza into eight, the cat divides the pizza into eight. No need for plates, no need for plates. The cat takes a slice, pepperoni is nice, a nice slice, a nice slice, a nice slice.

I devour the pizza, I devour the pizza sharing it with my love, sent from heaven above, sent from heaven above, well from the frozen food store anyway. Dripping pizza and sauce, dripping pizza and sauce we devour the pizza. We consume it, we devour it, we demolish it, we eat it, we scoff it, we we we, we just eat it. Enough of the verbs, enough of the verbs, we just have pizza, we just have pizza, pizza is had.

As for the cat it loves the pizza, pepperoni is its favourite, the cat sat on the mat, the mat was sat upon by the cat. Dripping in sauce the cat is cleaning its whiskers, its whiskers are clean, clean clean.

And what about us, and what about us? We are covered in cheese and tomatoes and pepperoni bits, the pepperoni bits are everywhere. So now that we are fed I carry my princess to my bed, to my bed I carry her, to my bed I carry her. Passion and Flatulence awaits, passion and flatulence awaits, but as we cannot afford to put the heating on that is perfect.

Love Passion and Pepperoni Pizza, with the cat asleep at the bottom of the bed. This is perfect love sent from heaven above. Sent from Heaven Above.

SENT FROM HEAVEN ABOVE,

Dedicated to Pretentious Poets Everywhere.  19^th Feb 2014.  

Washing In Washing Out a comedy

Washing In Washing Out ©

By

Michael Casey

With all the weather we are having it’s a big job to get the washing dried. You look outside, you lick you finger and hold it aloft, and what happens? A pigeon dumps on you, your wife laughs and says its good luck. At least it won’t be on the clean washing.

She hangs washing portrait fashion, you hang it landscape fashion, you “debate” about surface area and drip rates. She just says “you drip”, case over, she should have been a barrister in another life. You say she could never have  been a barista, she always makes your coffee wrong. She says you should drink green tea, and not with milk, that spoils it.

Then she goes to scream to her mother in Shanghai, it really is like chickens, ask any Chinese you know. You are left to hang her knickers on the line. They are like small hand-kerchiefs with laces attached. As for your pants, they are like flags. Blue flags.

You go inside to drink green tea, WITH  MILK, defiantly drunk, as she screams to Shanghai. The wind builds and your flags fill out like a windsock, or barrage balloon, in her opinion. At least they’ll dry in the wind. So you retire to the computer to see if any LinkedIn folks want to help you with your ideas. In the background, Panzi is mentioned, that’s you, the fat fat boy.

You look up, clouds have appeared from nowhere, so you dash to the garden. Its thundering and hail, hail is falling. So you grab the washing, and trip, at least you hold the washing upright. The washing is clean but your knees are covered in mud.

She looks up and asks “my knickers”, so you have to dash back out for those, falling over again and nearly being garrotted by the washing line. Once back inside you are ordered to undress, no not passion, she wants your pants in the washing machine, so you go the whole hog and totally undress and put it in the washing machine. Only the next door neighbour was looking out her window and got the shock of her life. You can hear her tell her boyfriend, he looks like a gorilla, so hairy, yuk.

So naked you dance and prance around the house putting the rescued washing on all the radiators. While she laughs and tells her mum in Shanghai what Panzi is up too, you hear laughter from Shanghai, just like the penny arcade dummy, from the 60s.

You scour the house looking for your dressing gown, only you cannot find it. She threw it away last week because it looked so tatty. She didn’t tell you that, you should have known already, because she didn’t tell you, so stupid you should have known.

Steam rises throughout the house, it’s like the sauna they used to have at CPNEC. Or the local chippy on  a rainy day. So you sit there decoratively on the leather settee, trying to look alluring, only she laughs even more, Shanghai echoes the laughter.

Finally defeated, you get dressed, in your 2^nd best, but now only dressing gown. She opens all the windows to let the steam out, you draw pictures on the windows and the house mirrors. You sit back on the leather sofa, trying to be alluring in your dressing gown and very hairy legs. She just laughs and says you’ll catch a cold.

The day is over, the washing is dry, some of the wallpaper is pealing behind the radiators, and you have a cold.