The Little Things

The Little Things ©

By Michael Casey

Something reminded me of the Little Things the other day, and it surprized me, I thought I would not be affected by the little things but I was. I think I’ve told you about my mother’s coat hanger in the past, it was an old pink hued wooden coat hanger, which we broke, and it made our mother cry.

Why did she cry, because it was given to her by her own mother when she left Ireland for Smethwick and England in 1944 when the war was still on. The hanger was of sentimental value to our mum, we had probably broken it in 1968.

I’ve literally remembered just now how Speedy Carr at school grabbed a ruler from a desk and how play fighting I broke it.  So both of us got into trouble and the kid it belonged to cried, because his dad had given it to him, I can’t remember was his dad  deceased at the time. Mr Russell our form teacher gave us a page of lines as punishment. I’d forgotten that till right now, 40+ years on. The point being though, that small things can have tremendous meaning to people. So watch whose coat hanger or wooden ruler you break.

  

Christmas cards and Birthday cards can be a big big deal too, some say they are a waste of paper and an ecard is better. However your sisters or girlfriends might think otherwise, they don’t mind not getting a present because you are saving for your house, but if you don’t bother or forget to send them a card then they won’t speak to you for months. Simmering resentment until it all explodes at the next family get together. So my best advice is to get a diary and stick all the important dates in it.

Personally I won’t be upset if nobody comes to my grave, although some graveyards are like filing cabinets, and some are just shoddy, such as the one down the road from my house where the slots for ashes are like the leftovers from Screwfit.  I really would like to be buried at Trinity Rd church next door to the Sikh Temple in Smethwick, though it’s a closed graveyard and somebody important would have to get me buried there.

For some visits to graveyard are important, and the laying of flowers is a ritual that has to be followed. I’ve never been to by parents’ graveyard, apart from when I ended up there by accident. For my sister it’s a ritual she has to follow, my view is the Love is in you, they gave it to you, so there is no need to visit a graveyard.

There are habits we all have, some may almost be OCD, habits footballers have before they get on the pitch, but they must do things in a certain order to keep their equilibrium. It’s these little things which make the difference to all of us. 

Squeezing the tooth paste from the middle instead of the end is a major little thing that can bring strife to any household, so don’t do it and we’ll all stay smiling. 

Fake Essays

Fake Essays ©

By Michael Casey

I keep an eye on my writing, I try and work out who is reading it and where. Vanity I suppose, but if I’m writing I do of course like to know who is reading. As I was doing this the other day I stumbled over an old piece of mine, Oxbridge and Unable to write an Essay. When I clicked on my piece of writing it lead to a site where for a few pounds you could buy an essay, so you don’t have to do the work yourself. This is fraud in my opinion.

Why do any work yourself when you can pay somebody else to write an essay for you. There are different charges depending on what level of study the essay is for. Sadly if you spend 2 seconds reading the home page you can see its run by somebody whose first language is not English. Prepositions give Esol English writers away. So you won’t be getting a good essay in good English, instead you’ll be getting something which is clearly not written by you a Native English speaker. This should be picked up by your tutor/teacher in 5 seconds, so no matter how good the factual part of the essay, you will still get an F and a warning.

There is another question, honesty, some students and even cultures find nothing wrong in cheating. Cheating and bribery is the norm, which is sad. If you cheat your way through, what happens when you really need to know your subject. Oops what did I just do, as a mushroom cloud rises into the air, or you poison an entire class. I have met some people in my travels who have actually said to me, of course we cheat, how are we supposed to pass otherwise, and they looked at me if I was some dullard. This is very very sad because it has watered away basic honesty and integrity.

When you write an essay you are proving to yourself you have learnt your subject, it’s an affirmation of knowledge. If you can write something down, if you can teach it, then you have proved you know what you are on about. You can read 10 to 30 essays on any topic you like, the internet is a great source of knowledge, then after you have read all the essays or read a few books  you can distil this knowledge into an essay that you have written yourself. You can quote Shakespeare or Michael Casey with examples to build your case in your essay, showing the subject in a new light. But you have done the work. 

Pain and Prayer

Pain and Prayer ©

By Michael Casey

Let my Pain be my Prayer

Let my Screams be the Chorus

Let my Pills be the Verse

Let my Winces be my Supplication

Let my Pain bitten lips be my Hope

Let Sleepless Eyes be my Testament

Let my Aching Limbs be my Mantra

Let the Ringing in my ears be my Peel of Prayer

Let the stabs of pain in my heart reach high heaven

Let the fog of pain in my brain be lifted by God’s Grace

Let me down from my cross because you have already been on yours.

300,000 views on Google plus

300,000 views ©

By Michael Casey

I still don't believe 300,000 views of my page. If something is too good to be true then it is. Ask Sherlock Holmes. He used to live around the corner from our house, he got evicted for smoking too much dope. It’s true, go read the books if you don't believe me. We used to have a lodger called John Lennon, that's true too. He left when he met some Japanese girl. They had no money so they stayed in bed all the time. Another lodger when he died he left behind a brand new pair of shoes. My dad gave them to friend at the steel works, Billy was his name. The next day Billy grabbed dad and said "those are dead man's shoes his ghost chased me around the bed for his shoes" that's true too. And dad had not told Billy that they were dead man's shoes. Now you can see how I get all my stories, I just need one word and away I go. It’s a bit like instant noodles, just add water. Or in my case just add imagination.

 p.s. Mo Farah, where do you think he stole the symbol from?

Perception and Reality

Perception and Reality©

By Michael Casey

I was wondering what to talk about today, then I thought what kind of week have I had.  It’s been a week of contrasts. I’ve been threatened on the Internet and condemned too. I’ve also received thanks and too much flattery. I also had somebody who’d lost the argument condemn my spelling. If all somebody can do is condemn spelling, or the fact that I’ve not self-corrected my words then proves how shallow they are.

I like to entertain with my writing, and amuse and sometimes make you all laugh out loud. Why am I using Palatino type now? Because the guy on New Girl mentioned it so I took a look and decided to use it.  I have used Bookman Old Type before but now I may switch to Palentino all because a failed writer character in a show on tv mentioned it. Though I must say New Girl is a great discovery in our house. I do see the irony about a failed writer….

Now where was I, when you talk to friends you may talk about X, Y and Z, or zee if you are American. But talking about that doesn’t mean you want to do that all your life or ever. It’s just a conversation, you don’t think a brigade of US Marines really wants to dress in drag and go for a night of drinking. If they were in Holland with their Dutch buddies then maybe, providing the Dutch Marines paid for all the drinks.

If they happened to be in England with our Royal Marines then you can take it for granted that anything goes. We do have a long tradition of men dressing up as women, especially in Panto. As for our special forces, they can and will dress up anyway they like and speak local languages perfectly. Their commanding officers know not to say a word, and as for how senior law firm partners dress up at Christmas you would never never ever believe me, and I’ve been at a major international law firm Christmas party.

We all say things not knowing that somebody else will misconstrue it, if you say you like cashmere you don’t expect a cashmere jumper to appear on your desk. I don’t go out to work, I have my computer desk, so nobody is going to email one to me. Size 46 to 48 blue, if anybody knows where to send it. I could say I like Stella Artois too, or Ck One but nobody is going to parachute from the sky and deliver it to my house, not unless it’s a drunken Marine in drag, or several doing it for a bet.

The point is, we may say something and somebody thinks you are asking. Look what happened to Thomas a’Becket after the King said “who will rid me of this turbulent priest” I could say who will rid me of this badly decorated house. Ikea and a band of decorators are not going to arrive and do a makeover of my house. Totoro our cat loves peeling off wallpaper by  biting the wall.

So on it goes. A girl may have a crush on you, but not know you are gay. Or a boy may have a crush on you, hoping you are gay. A girl may have a crush on you, but you may think her ugly. You may have a crush on a girl and she is ugly. So the merry-go-round of love and lust and desire goes on and on and on , and up and down, and any other positions you can think of.

In diplomacy the dance of words is even more complicated, and each word has nuances and shades of meanings. If you say NO, it can mean many many things. Especially if you have pedants and journalists over analysing each syllable, which sometimes happens when you post things online. I always say, write your own stuff, and don’t comment on mine, bore your own audience, not mine.