The Trouble with food

The Trouble With Food ©

By Michael Casey

The trouble with food is that we all eat it, if we didn’t eat it there would be no problem, but we’d all starve, so we eat it. In our house we have East meets West cuisine, Birmingham to Shanghai food. As you know my wife is a Shanghai girl, so our two bilingual daughters  have “bilingual” diet too, though to be honest they eat Eastern diet 80% to 90% of the time.

The Shanghai diet involves lots of chicken and fish and of course 50 shades of rice. Which means my daughters are very slim, they have not inherited my Irish big build, I hope it also means that they live very long lives.

I used to say as a child that I’d love to live till I was 100, with the Chinese connection that would be very useful, as my wife will live another 60 years and my girls another 90 years. I just hope there is enough money in the pension pot, though I have very high hopes for my girls so I think there will be. My youngest daughter has already decided she wants to live in a cottage and she has reserved a rocking chair by the fire for me already.

But back to food, snacks are a big thing in our house, my Shanghai wife has a sweet tooth, so if you are eating the right thing all the time you can indulge in snacks. Be warned though, Eastern snacks can be either very very sweet, or totally bland to our Western tongue. Sometimes you do need a degree in Oriental languages to know exactly what is in the fridge, on the Eastern side of the fridge, or in the biscuit tin.

Korean snacks can be very nice, I must confess, we did actually have a priest called Fr. Jacob who was Korean. Then there are Chinese and Japanese snacks, it really has opened my mind and taste buds to a whole new dimension. Here in Birmingham we have a few great places to shop for Far Eastern food, as well as the best curry houses in the world if you just want Eastern and not Far Eastern cuisine.

Behind me in the living room the smells of chicken and rice fill the air, they have just finished watching The Hunger Games, now they are eating their rice and chicken. And yes the sauce is everything.

Ten years ago when Ma the mother in law was here for the birth of our daughter, she came for both births, a local very rich Chinese lady hounded her for her chicken recipe. Chinese love their food, the rich lady could afford anything, but the one thing she wanted most of all was Ma’s chicken recipe.

Food fills us all up, it brings smiles and it deepens friendship and love, so it’s a great thing. Food to fill us, but more importantly food to share and enjoy. If I’m lucky I’ll get the slops from my 3 girls, I had my own dinner earlier so really I’m not allow to have any of theirs.  

Food is a voyage of discovery, it’s like discovering you have a tongue, when you did never had one before. Well for me it was like that, moving on from kebab and chips to all kinds of Chinese stuff.

My wife did actually cook for me on my Birthday, though I was sent out 3 times to get more ingredients, the spice of life I suppose, without any actually spice. I think she cooked egg fried rice for me but with tomatoes in it and something else. That led to marriage and children and family, so be careful what you eat.

Formal This or Formal That

Formal This or Formal That ©

By Michael Casey

We all send off applications for jobs, or we write to complain about this and that. We all meet people for the first time, so how should we write and react? Me I think just be yourself, I’m in part two of my life now, or part ¾ even, so I refuse to suck up to anybody, not that I would in the first place.

If you were held hostage would you fight, or beg? Me I’d fight because they are going to kill you anyway, so at least you have a slim chance if you fight. Or would you beg and be a Uriah Heep, I don’t mean play heavy metal either. It’s all about attitude, how do you handle people?

Jim was a great man, we worked together at Crowne Plaza Birmingham NEC, CPNEC for short, his customer service skills were great, he was also a character, he could say things that could get the average person sacked, but he had charm, he was a rough diamond.

He taught me so much, as did Phil on security, Phil was my phone a friend, if I did not know I knew a man that did, and that was Phil. It was thanks to them that I was great at my job. We were the friendly hotel, and the food was great too. 2002 to 2005 were the best years of my life, though very tiring and a lot of hard work.

Now as for words on paper I think you should always be yourself, and be clear with words. Never try and be clever, because in the end you won’t impress, you’ll just be a fool with a dictionary. Yes be polite, but don’t be unctuous, or a brown nose, I won’t use the English expression, I’ve said enough already.

Please Sir, I have a great idea, and only if you deign to help me would I ever be able to for fill its potential. This is wrong, but don’t be Del Boy Trotter either. Me, I have 520 short stories, if we packaged them in 40s with a facing page translations plus my audio in clear English, then we could make millions. Teaching English as a 2^nd language, by using humour.

Now should I bow down in an attempt to get an angel investor, no, have faith in your own ability, it may be that it’s an idea whose Time has not come. A nice lady actually said that to me, you have to get somebody to see what you see, to believe what you believe. Simple ideas are ideas that work.

Now what about when you complaining about something?  I always tell my daughters that “The Pen is mightier than the sword” and I can use my words to wound to get companies to honour their word.

Companies are so conscience about their image, so if you use a dose of hard words and sarcasm it really does work. This does not mean being abusive, it means you remind the company that they are NOT living up to their image on their tv adverts.

They will jump to attention and sort out the problem for you. There is actually a website with CEO email addresses on, so always write to the organ grinder and not his monkey. The power of words is an important thing to teach your daughters.

Now I have sent many emails to many people advertising my words, they are for sale for all readers everywhere, just go to Amazon Kindle. I realised too that my words would be good as a teaching tool, I was an Esol teacher and I do have a Shanghai wife as well. 

So I will continue informally asking people to invest in my words. They can always forward my emails to all the people they love to hate, and then maybe my Time will arrive. Or maybe I should just buy a new watch.

The Letter

The Letter ©

By

Michael Casey

A letter is a thing of beauty, a hope, a prayer answered. It’s also a joke. I can remember in 2^nd year running out of money on the school trip to Romsley, it was a geography field trip that lasted a week. I must have sent a note home. I got a reply from my brother “ After an all-night sitting of the Security Council, it has been decided to send you 1 pound. I wouldn’t say it’s quiet around here without you, but they are holding the SALT talks here. I bought ice lollies for myself and a couple of friends.

A letter can be a plea for help from a relative, send money or say some prayers as I’m sick, at deaths door. I was expecting a letter myself, and the contents of the letter were very important, so I was relieved when the big white envelope came through our door this morning.

Relief is the word. A letter can have such great importance, an email does not have such strength. Maybe it’s because a letter has a physical side to it. There are the stamps that tell you if it’s from home or abroad, you can recognise the writing on the envelope. There may even be perfume coming from the letter, it’s your old Aunty from Chicago, or you best friend from Australia.

Letters have to be opened and the paper taken out and unfolded, it’s a process, it’s better than just a click. The handwriting gives a lot away too, though in my own case I type everything as my penmanship really is terrible. Then you read the news.

You might be getting Shamrock for Saint Patrick’s Day from your aunt in Ballyheigh, or a crisp 10 shilling note from your uncle John in Cricklewood. I remember buying a tortoise with the money my uncle John sent. That was 50 years ago now. But you always remember letters.

I do love emails too, but today I’m just talking about letters. A letter is like a photograph, it can be touched and looked at, it can be read and reread. You are not going to login and read and reread your emails.

A letter shows you really care, it costs money to send a letter, stamps are so expensive now. Though in defence of email you can send photos and video or your latest book via email.

But letters are a thing, and things can be loved. You may have your long dead mother’s prayer book that you can look at and it reminds you of all the love she had for her brood. And letters are just the same, you cannot love something in cyber space.

So surprise the ones you love and send them a letter or a postcard, sent with love. 

A more interesting photo, prize for the one who has the best caption and/or knows what I’m doing.

Linkedin Profile and CV what do they really mean?

LinkedIn Profile  and  CV ©

By

Michael Casey

We’ve all been on Facebook and LinkedIn, we get to know people and make “friends”. On LinkedIn it’s more about connections and maybe business connections. So we have to rely on the Profile, my LinkedIn profile tells my story, as I am a writer. But how accurate are these Profiles?

I am a born leader.

Means he was the firstborn boy in a family of 11 girls.

I created the supply chain structure.

Means he decided to use a clipboard and notepad instead of just his memory.

I optimised the sales among target audiences.

He chatted up all the girls, he was kind to seniors and went to church.

I was inventive and creative in gaining new sales.

Means he designed a flyer and went street to street delivering them.

I was never afraid of going the extra mile for the business.

Means there was a street gang chasing  him after he was at  the bank

I am great at communicating the business message.

He just would not shut up, so the boss got him to tidy the fruit outside the ma and pa store.

I always try and improve myself.

Means he has no friends so he reads a lot.

I created the new scheme to optimise the business cash flow.

Means he took the store’s cash and put the money on a horse.

I am now looking for new opportunities to excel

Means he got fired, cops not called as the owner married to his sister

I created a great new idea for centralising purchasing delivery.

Means he was a guard for the money delivery company, crash helmet and visor.

I created my own start-up company

Means he stole the money from the cash delivery company and started his own company.

I am now on a learning sabbatical before resuming my career

Means he is in jail, working in the library.

So when you read those LinkedIn profiles or reading a CV or resume think what do they really mean. Check the photos out too, the reality can be far different. Just like actors, photos can be 10 or 20 years old, and they are. Dig deeper.

Me, I google and check people out, as far as you can on Google. Google me and my sites and think for yourself. I am on a sabbatical myself, no I’m not in a library, thought we have plenty of books in the house, no it’s called Arthur, my  arthritis, which comes and goes and makes me scream sometimes. But at least I can sit here and make some of you laugh, as I Google everybody.

 photo is Hotel Achat Offenbach Frankfurt Germany 2008

Things that go bump in the night

Things that go bump in the night©

By

Michael Casey

D-day 6^th June 2014 commemoration was very emotional, probably the last one, the lads are so old now. 30 years ago I happened to be in Normandy, 1984, so I was able to see the parades and so forth. So that’s the time line. Max Hastings wrote a great piece about it all, so I won’t even try to comment today.

So what am I going to bore you all with tonight? Well I’m going to talk about things that go bump in the night. We had great weather over 6^th June, this percolated thunder and lightning. Before the thunder and lightning arrived there was a big crash and a big boom.

I awoke to discover my bed had broken in two, and no nothing to do with flatulence, my bed had collapsed beneath me, or rather one side of the bed had snapped in two. I had a new bed nearly 3 years ago, and there was a tiny crack in it, but I’d built the bed in 90mins so I was not going to un-build it. Everything would be ok, I was a bloke so I would not send it back.

The thing about cracks is that they spread, and over time if you toss and turn in your sleep as I do, and you weigh as much as me, what will happen, you awake with a bang in the night.

So that bang in the night set off a whole train of events, firstly I had to prop up my bed so I could finish my night’s sleep. Luckily I had an old plastic sack full of family photo albums, from 30 years ago and less just behind my bed. So I used them to prop up the bed for the remainder of the night.

Then an hour or so later the rumbling and the tumbling and lightning began. I can confirm Nature made more noise that my breaking bed.

Though I have to confess this is the 3^rd bed I’ve broken. The first breakage happened 8 years ago as I tripped over the duvet as I put my daughters to bed, so my full weight came down and destroyed the bed. Then when  I retired my old original bed after 20years of service, so I thought I’d try a silver coloured metal bed. However with my weight the bed did the splits, so I used the photo albums to keep the bed up. When I decided to replace it I put the splits metal bed outside the house, where we have “Sky Burial” it was soon picked up by a passing welder who was very happy with his treasure.

So I decided to get a really posh Lecco bed, that was nearly 3 years ago. It was really nice, and I am good at bed jigsaws. So in an hour I had a posh and very sturdy and heavy new bed. It did have a tiny crack in it, but I thought all would be well. I liked the Lecco so much that when my daughter wanted a new bed I got her the single bed version.

Then the bump in the night, 7^th June 2.40am, things have changed since I last put a bed together. Arthur my arthritis has arrived. First of all I decided to dismantle the Lecco, and so have the room ready for a replacement bed. You can do physical things, but afterwards you pay a price for it, your body makes you pay the pound of flesh.

So what do you do with your broken old bed? Well the header and footer as they are called, look like an old fashioned farm gate. Then there was a gap in our garden fence, so with a bit of ingenuity I had improved the fence, thanks to a recycled bed.

So I went and had a look at beds in my local store, I wanted a really strong one obviously. However the price of a good one looked too high. So I had a look online, picking one from Argos for a finish.

I slept with the mattress on the floor for 2 nights, until today the new bed arrived. I nearly forgot that my daughter decided to decorate my room while I making a fence in the garden with the recycled bed parts.

We had a bit of paint left over too, so we splashed a bit of paint here and a bit of paint there. So my room was now all tarted up. Though it’s like working in slow motion really. The room does look 10 times better now.

 As for the door with drawings scrawled all over it from when the girls were younger, I decided to keep that. If ever they become famous artists I will sell that door and buy a new house with the proceeds.

The new bed arrived and it was huge, one section would not go up the stairs, I had to use a box cutter to remove all the packaging before I could get the bed parts up the stairs. I was all grunts and groans as I got the parts upstairs. Everything seems to take longer now, it took hours to construct my bed. I had to have a rest too, though it was a hot day as well.

Today was inoculation day for my daughters, ready to see grannie in Shanghai, so when they returned the could see the results of my labours. They complained that their arms hurt, I replied that at least they have some idea of what Arthur does to my hips and back and a variety of other places.

As for the bed it really does look the bees knees, very posh like a hotel bed, so I’m exhausted and pleased. So that’s today’s story, and the proof will be in the sleeping, Nite Nite Everybody.  

Beat the Clock

Beat the Clock ©

By Michael Casey

So you are dying and have not much time left for this world, so what would you say? You’ve got 30 minutes to say what you should have said, I Love You. Her train is coming and then she’ll be gone, how would you change her mind, even if you were not dying?

Famous last words, or words that could be the beginning of a whole new line in a Royal family, or any old family, your family. How can you stop Time itself so that you have a chance, a new beginning. Any beginning.

It’s hard its difficult, its 25 minutes before Midnight, before the beginning of a new Season. What would you do? Would you hold her tight and kiss her, would you try your puppy dog eyes like Nicolas Cage, or the cat in Shrek.

I’d try and make her laugh, she’s not interested in looks, she didn’t choose you in the first place just because of looks. If you make somebody laugh they remember you, they look forward to seeing you again, over and over again.

There’s only 20 mins before Midnight now, the train, the plane approaches, whatever words you have must count now, those words are Life Changing words, so speak up and be plain.

Only you stutter, you always stutter when you are nervous, she laughed at you and then fell for you two seconds later. So now you pretend to stutter before you start to sing. Right there in the waiting room you sing to the girl you love. You have to make her stay or make her want to come back anyway.

So you sing badly, deliberately badly, so she laughs and everybody else in the waiting room laughs too. But that does not matter, she remembers the first time you sang to her. It’s a memory, its love, she can’t refuse you anything.

Her heart melts, she’s yours, she’ll always be yours, she kisses you. Everybody in the train station applauds.

So she’ll go now, but she’ll be back soon. Singing for your supper, for the meal that is life that is love. You’ve beat the clock, she’s yours and always will be.

Radio Head No.1

Radio Head  No.1

By Michael Casey

Well if that Allan Bennett can do it on tv it should be easier on radio, no pictures to get in the way. Radio is louder than tv anyway, so it shouldn’t be too hard. I know he’ll be licking his lips now as he gets ready to pounce, to slice and dice what passes for my intellect.

He can’t see my face as this is radio, so he won’t be able to read my body language either. So that’s him sorted, like putting a suitcase on the shelf in the concierge room. I’ve attached a label too, if he loses his ticket then he’ll stay up there on the shelf gathering dust, like a long lost library book.

So we know HE is clever, I just try and hide amongst clever people then I appear clever, a bit like a zebra hiding on a zebra crossings. This is good cover until people pretend they are the Beatles and take photos, so I the zebra have to gallop, ok more like waddle away. But I have lost half a stone, just by drinking less fresh orange juice, from concentrate, I’m not made of money, I’m not famous like HIM.

So you write a play, so I am a playwright too, ok not so famous, but I can still put it on my Linkedin, IF I were still on Linkedin that is. Or I could put it on my Facebook, Michael Casey Playwright, from Birmingham. Does HE have a Facebook page, telling of all the drinking and carousing he does on a Friday night up Broad Street, or up any street?

I suppose when you are as well-known as HIM you have little parties at home, you have a caterer come and pass amongst you, with smiles and trays to reflect all the smiles in. I do have an entry so if it rained and I was having a Summer Fete in the back yard we could all shelter in the entry. And talk about the old abandoned ladders hanging from the metal rungs in the entry.

And what about the actual writing? Well I always say my Shoplife is so much better than Trollied on TV. Mine was written back in 1988 when the Olympics were on. The it WAS called “sparkling, very real, great fun, hilarious, we could not stop reading it. We hope to produce it not this Season but next.” Did Allan Bennett ever get such praise? No, he got a Tony in 1963, when I was 5, and the list is as long as your arm, and two legs.

Good job, this is Radio, or he’d see my Green Envy, and the silent tears of If Only, If Only. Where does he get HIS imagination from, it’s not as if it’s on special offer in Aldi or one of those other discount shops. Though some of the things you see as you go up the high street would really open your eyes.

So I did write a couple of other Plays, seeing if I could, where would my pen lead me. Though I never use a pen, I’ve typed since 1978. Thank God this is Radio, or you’d have the camera pausing over my pieces of paper, and everybody would scream at the screen, “He cannot write” my penmanship is dire after all.

Thank you for your pieces of paper was the first put down I received, I’d neglected to use a binder, don’t laugh at me, I was young and just starting out, I was under 30 then, still in my 20s.

Pagination and Page numbering is a big thing I suppose, but you just want to pour the story out on the page. Puke it out more likely I can hear Allan saying, as he butters his crumpet and pours his morning Green Tea. But a beginning IS a beginning.

So you are writing a play and you think it needs a few more pages, so you go downstairs to make a cup of coffee and have a breath of fresh air in the garden. You see a sparrow on the washing line, next to your pants, but it gives you an idea, but not about pants. So you go back upstairs to your Atari 1040 and write “watching not part of it, like a solitary sparrow sentry on a washing line.”

I’m sure HE never got inspiration from his washing line, he probably has a Mrs Hudson who does all that for him. Though if I ever made a few bob from Writing I’d have a housekeeper, it’s a perk it’s a nice thing to have.

Sorry I can’t meet the deadline today or this week. I have to go to Costco to stock up on toilet paper, 48 rolls for £14, a bargain. Then I have to sew the hem on my trousers, and I really must do the vacuuming, I got so carried away with the play I haven’t vacuumed in 2 weeks. So you’ll just have to wait. I know you’ll understand. If ever I make a few bob like HIM, then I’d have a Mrs Hudson, just how my domestic life would change. Forget the awards, I could have a cleaner for 10 hours a week.

So is all this going through my fellow writers minds as we slave away over a hot computer?  Must  write another 10 pages so my agent gets his money worth, paid by the page, just like piece work and tonnage that my dad endured in the Steel Works, The District Iron and Steel, Brasshouse Lane, Smethwick.

So I think I’ve said all I wanted to say for today, I can see Allan reaching for the tea cosy to throw at the radio. Cheek and Insolence, the perfect driver and concierge team from a hotel.

Did I tell you I did actually work in a hotel, but I was a good boy there, really good. Employee of The Year, well almost, close runner up, very close runner up, read the citation. Even won a prize, a trip to Cambridge, never went though. The wife was not feeling so well, turned out she was pregnant with our comedian 2^nd daughter.

So this is the end of my Radio Head No.1 piece, I hope Allan liked it, put that radio down Allan, don’t throw it out the window, you’ll miss the Shipping Forecast.