Its all in the stars written in june 1998

                       It’s All In The Stars 2016 ©

                         

                              By

                         Michael  Casey

          Louise  just  loved  to  read her stars  in  the  papers,  but

gradually  she  became disillusioned,  they were  too  inaccurate,  too

 

general,  she wanted more detail,  a personal touch, she wanted to know

 

how her life would be.  Not "you'll have a happy day today,  a  surprize

 

could be on its way." She wanted more, so she went to see a clairvoyant,

the  clairvoyant   was a gypsie who had pitched her caravan  in  the  Bull

 

Ring.  Louise happened to be there buying new knickers for herself outside

 

Saint  Martins  church when she spotted the sign saying "fortunes  told,

 

cheap prices, under a fiver to know your future. "

 

           So grasping her knickers in the carrier  she climbed  the  four

 

steps into the caravan.  The fortune teller looked like a rugby player in

 

drag,  but that’s normal for fortune tellers,  so Louise wasn't afraid.

 

She  had  30  mins before she had to get back to  Stats  and  some  report

 

writing  for  Derek  the boss.  The bells of  Saint  Martin  peeled,  a

 

lunchtime service was about to begin, as for Louise she held her breath,

 

what would the future bring ?

       Michael also wanted to know the future.  He read his stars avidly

 

in the papers,  he'd buy his shopping in Safeways, then once through the

 

checkout he'd read his stars in all the newspapers, before discarding the

 

papers  and leaving with just his shopping,  the papers in a heap at  his

 

feet. He always hoped the stars would tell him when he'd meet the love of

 

his life,  what he failed to notice was that while he had his head in the

 

newspaper,  pretty  women were standing right next to him  browsing  the

 

womens magazines. If only he looked up from the stars. 

 

           Fate would bring these two together, in fact they lived in the

 

same street, but their paths had never crossed, Michael lived at number

 

19  and Louise lived in number 25.  Michael had been a computer operator

 

for 20 years but when the job ended he took the first job that came along

 

, so now he was a security guard, not one of those thick ones in uniforms

 

,  no he was a guard in the new Travel lodge hotel on Broad street,  the

 

biggest hotel in the city.  He wore a suit and had a nice badge with  his

 

name  on  it,  and he had a nice slim radio.  So he was an  upper  class

 

security guard.  It was the perfect job for him because he liked  meeting

 

people and having a gossip.

           The fortune teller had told Louise,  that she'd meet  somebody

 

strong  and  reliable,  though perhaps a little  boring,  things  would

 

happen suddenly and she'd be swept off her feet.  Louise liked strong men

 

why  she'd  been to see the Chippendales four times,  so  she  smiled  to

 

herself as she left the caravan,  clutching her carrier of knickers.  The

 

months  passed  and still Louise hadn't found her Mr Reliable,  she  got

 

offers  of course,  she enjoyed strutting her stuff in pubs all over  the

 

Black Country her and her friend Mary.  Only the offers were always  from

 

men just past their sell  by date, men who would buy you a pint and a bag

 

of  chips and then want to feel more than your hips as she danced  to  70s

 

Glamrock.  So Louise said "Sod It !", as she slapped another man across

 

the face.  Why couldn't men be Gay without being Gay,  you know Gay  men

 

treated you like a lady and didn't grope. Just why couldn't one like that

 

turn up.

 

         Michael finished another 12 hour shift and was wandering  around

 

  his  flat  naked,  scratching his bum and drinking another 2  litres  of

 

  coca cola.  He switched the telly on and surfed teletext, his HiFi was

 

  on too playing Genesis,  he always read the news on all channels before

  

reading his stars on ITV channel 4, channel 5 and Sky. His whole working

 

life involved working odd hours with even odder people, so he'd never met

 

anybody  who would put up with his lifestyle. Now 40 was on the horizon,

 

was  he  clutching at straws hoping against hope by reading  his  stars  to

 

cheer himself up. Jo from the kitchen had given him a Xmas card saying "I

 

hope  the  girl of your dreams find you in 98 ",  and the year  was  half

 

over. Michael sighed, at least he could have a quiet cry while he watched

 

weepies  on  Sky and the other channels.  Little Women  was  perhaps  his

 

favourite film,  the ending where the Professor says he has empty hands

 

& he has nothing to give,  but the girl gave him her hands and said "now

 

they are full".  His own father had nothing when he met his mom, yet she

 

married him, and yet he married her and her false teeth,  and they went

 

on to have six children.  So Michael watched and wept, at least there

 

was refuge and solace in prayer, he had taken up regular prayer when he'd

 

read about Padre PIO, and when  his mother died, and to his surprize  his  faith  got

 

stronger.  But still he longed for company, to talk with, to laugh with, 

to cry with,  and to wake up with. So he prayed and read his stars in

 

equal doses.

 

        Louise slammed the door of her flat, and rearranged her  blouse,

that bastard had more hands than an octopus, he'd left his thumb print on

 

her boob too,  and the bra strap was broken too. She have to go down the

 

Bull Ring on Monday and get herself a new red bra, and new red  knickers

 

too, it was a matching set after all. She flicked on the telly, Central

 

Weekend was still on, Russell Grant was on,  so she didn't switch off.

 

He was saying that a proper reading involved study.  Louise examined her

 

bruised boob as he talked,  still listening she practised her  undressing

 

technique,  it'd been in Mary's Cosmo three months before, so she'd been

 

practicing it. Once she met a Gay man who wasn't Gay, he'd have the full

 

benefit of it,  it was all about pleasing him,  so to please yourself,

 

that's how Cosmo explained it.  So there she was naked before her telly

 

with just Russell Grant smiling at her,  "And it’s about  examining  your

 

potential and optimizing your best  bits ",  Louise was examining her  boob

 

again,  and her bum, she found another bruise there. So it was standing

 

naked before Russell Grant and a studio audience that she decided to do it

 

herself, she'd go to the library and dig out some books. She'd form her

 

own future, she'd caste her own fortune.

          Michael dried the tears from his eyes, and switched the tv off,

scratched  his bum,  then got into bed.  If only a millionairess would

 

stop at the hotel and fall in love with him,  well it  happened  in films

didn't it?  His stars had been contradictory as usual, so  he  just

 

believed the nice ones. Louise had  switched off the telly when she'd

 

glanced out of her window,  only to see a naked man get into bed. Michael

 

was afraid of the dark you see,  so he always left a chink in his curtain

 

and Louise by chance or was it fate ? She had seen him, he was fat and

 

very hairy, but at least he had a big chest, she just loved men with big

 

chests. So sniggering Louise headed for her own bed.

          The following Monday Louise dashed up to the Library and got as

 

many do it yourself Horoscopes books as she could find.  There were five

 

in fact. She'd read them all then photocopy the best bits on the  works

 

photocopier.  No more newspapers for her, she'd do it herself, she had

 

five minutes left of her lunch hour so she went and got a new matching bra

 

and knickers from the Bull Ring, and some grapes too,  she just  loved

 

grapes. Somebody was selling a telescope too, so on impulse she bought

 

that as well, it was only a fiver. She be able to gaze up at the stars.

          Michael had a nice day at the hotel, people seemed to like him,

well in five minute doses that is, a millionairess did stop at the hotel,

only she was a bitch, who knew she was rich and beautiful and intelligent

 

and she  wanted the whole world to know it.  If only she had a dose  of

 

humility that'd change her thought Michael, would  be perfect for this rich millionairess,

  a dose of humility was  a good  thing, but Michael smiled and carried all her shopping

 

and put it into a waiting taxi,  as she swore at him for not being  quick

 

enough. But his stars had said "You will be mixing with the  rich  and

 

famous", and so he was, by carrying her bags. 

 

 

             Louise dashed home with her carrier full of library books,

 

she'd know her future tonight, she was a bit impetuous at times, so she'd

 

work out her future tonight.  She saw the light go on in Michael's flat,

 

and  she did have a telescope,  so she gave into temptation and spied  on

 

him. e was nice,very nice, then she nearly dropped the telescope, he

 

had a horrid birthmark on his left shoulder, a brown stain all covered in

 

hair. He was a bit like the elephant man, Louise laughed, and then went

 

back to  her  books.  As for Michael he put the Disney channel on and

 

watched Beauty and the Beast,  he could empathise with the Beast,  he'd

 

been called a beast himself because of his birthmark,  girls had run away

 

from him because of it. They could put up with him being fat, but not the

 

birthmark as well, that was too much. So Michael watched Beauty and the

 

Beast and cried and cried, some say a man should not cry, but  Michael

 

knew that was bollocks, it was good to be in touch with your emotions, a

 

good cry  cleanses  then system. Recently he'd  started  listening  to

 

Classic FM,  cos one of the cleaners had told him about it, and that made

 

him cry too, how could just a few violins and so forth touch your soul in

 

seconds. But it was nice, besides they'd never be anybody there to see

 

him cry, so he could be true to his soul, and cry and cry.

 

         Louise looked up from her books, she'd spent five hours reading

 

the future was hers,  she picked up the telescope again,  this time  to

 

look for Uranus, but the sky had clouded over. So she watched Michael's

 

bum as he got into bed.  Louise spent weeks reading and watching naked Michael

she even went  to West Bromwich library in search of books, she was confident,

she knew she’d always be ok for money,  and that was all that mattered as far as

she was concerned,  so long as she could pay the bloody mortgage and could  feed

 

her cat Sam.  One night Mary couldn't come on the razzle, strutting her

 

stuff with Louise, and as Louise had a bit of a cold she stayed in  and

 

watched the telly.  Elephant Man was on, the music was good, but Louise

 

hated the black and white,  and was going to switch it off,  but it  was

 

compelling in a horrible sort of way.  As she watched she looked out the

 

window and could see naked Michael, she laughed, then looked back at the

 

Elephant Man, then she laughed "Elephant Man lives over the road, Sam",

then the music touched her, she felt guilty,  a silent tear fell. She

 

couldn't bear her guilt so she got up and switched the telly  off,  she

 

didn't  have a remote control. She put Heart FM on loud to cheer herself

 

up, but her eyes were drawn over the road towards Michael's back, so she

 

picked  up the telescope.  "It's not that bad I suppose, if I were  his

 

girlfriend I'd shave it." Then she dropped the telescope, and  reached

 

for  her chocolate, and soon forgot him, Heart FM was great.

         Hazel had the flu, so would anybody like tickets to see Phantom

 

of The Opera. So as it was free Louise had it, she liked classical music

 

too as well as glam rock, so it would be a night out for her and Mary.

The Phantom was great, a bit like Disney's Beauty and the Beast really or

 

even the  Hunchback Of Notre Dame,  about  love  crossing  insurmountable

 

barriers.  Michael had once said to his mom, that he wasn't good enough

 

for anybody,  and his mother had chided that of course he  was,  Love

 

Conquers All was her message. And so was the message of Phantom. Louise

 

ate her chips on the bench outside the Hippodrome,  her mind troubled,

 

Mary thought  she was a bit quiet.  Louise lied and said she  was  only

 

tired.  But once home she got her telescope out and watched Michael's back

 

as  she played the CD of the show that she'd bought. Guilt  overcame  her

 

and she cried, she cried just like a little girl.

               Now sometimes fate cannot wait no longer it bursts on the

 

scene, it  demands attention.  Louise was returning the books to  the

 

library, she had just bought more knickers from the  Bull Ring. It was

while she was crossing the road at the top of Hill Street that she  nearly

 

walked under a bus, had it not been for a strong hand pulling at her bra

 

strap she would have been dead.  "Pervert" was on her lip, as she fell

 

backwards but the noise and shadow of the bus drown her words.

"I could have been killed," she stuttered, as she got to her feet.

"That's why I grabbed you, your bra strap was what saved you," replied

 

Michael.

Louise looked up to see who had saved her, she looked deep into his eyes

 

,his child like eyes.  She screamed and fainted, he caught her in his

 

strong arms. A full minute later she opened her eyes.

"But it’s  you,  I've never seen you with your clothes  on,  "  stammered

 

Louise.

"Pardon? " replied Michael not knowing her guilt secret.

"You see,  we are neighbours in Miracle Road Qangleton,  "  explained

 

Louise.

"Here's your knickers," replied Michael as he picked up her carrier and

 

it’s spilled contents.

"But, you  saved my life,  " said Louise,  before smothering  him  in

 

kisses, he had saved her life after all.

"Let's go for a coffee in Dunkin Donuts," suggested Michael "you  have

 

had a shock after all.

        And so that was how they finally met, it was all in the stars, I

 

think they went on to have twelve children and lived happily ever after,

 

you get a lot of family allowance with twelve children after all.

 

  **********************************************

 

4 years later I did work in a hotel 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Light and Life

Light and Life  ©

By Michael Casey

Well I’ve not been strong enough to write for a couple of days, Arthur getting the upper hand, so now that the pain has lessened, I’ve decided to write something new. Though Arthritis is a bastard and does work like a roadblock to creativity, if that does not sound too pretentious. If you cannot think straight then it’s hard to write, that’s less pretentious.

Twitter is ok for one-liners and so it’s easy to heckle from Twitter even though you are in pain. I have had fun with Steven Fry, as he left Twitter after the bag lady joke was attacked by the PC idiots. So I invented a series of things Steven Fry might be doing instead at my house. As I speak he is polishing the girls’ shoes ready for school in the morning. Then he has to make their pack lunches ready for school, the school does run out of food on occasion, so it’s safer to have a packed lunch, otherwise you get an afternoon wilt.

So where was I? I remember I was going to write about Light and Life, and how did I chose tonight’s topic? Our bulb died, so there you have it, something happens and that’s enough to trigger a story from the soup. The soup being the word that covers my life experience, ether may be a posher word, but as you know I’d never claim to be posh, eclectic yes, posh no.

Light makes a home, if you have no light you would just go to bed and make babies, perhaps we should all remove the light bulbs from our homes and we’d all be a lot happier. Mothercare would be happier too, their share price would rise too.

Dad always used to nag us when we left lights on in the hall or on the landing, he would sometimes work 16 hour shifts in the steelworks, so he did not want to waste his sweat. My brothers used to burn the midnight oil, so that they could learn enough to get into a good University. One brother bought a fancy angle-poise lamp when he got to Oxford, when me and another brother went to visit we saw it on his desk at Queens. Having a fancy lamp was a status symbol, my brother still has that lamp in his attic, nearly 50 years on. History has now repeated itself as my eldest daughter now has her very own little lamp, she hopes to be a doctor, God Help Us.

Little things do matter, such as light, a night light is a life saver, children are so afraid of the dark. There is so much fear of the dark, but a little plastic night light does make a difference, or sleeping with the curtains open, or having a light on in the landing. Your very own torch beside your bed or in the bed with you is a great thing. Suddenly you are not alone, the monsters cannot get you because the light is on, or you have a super torch that will destroy monsters with just one flick of the switch.

I can remember my own first torch, maybe 50 years ago, we got it at Christmas from Radfords, It was black on the outside and here was the amazing thing, it had 2 filters on it that could change the beam colour, either red or blue, as well as the normal torch light beam. We were so excited when we got it, we shone it on the ceiling in the big front bedroom. Then we put our fingers in front of the beam trying to make all manner of shapes on the ceiling, normal kids’ stuff.

Two weeks ago we had a power cut so I invested in 2 new torches, and to my child’s delight I discovered the beam was really strong, it has 7 lcd bulbs inside, so the beam is so strong and long. Yes I did annoy the neighbours in the dark, but I’m 7 again while they are just old farts,

  my Indiana Jones pose

Crawling like a worm in the dirt

Crawling Like a Worm in The Dirt, humbled by a photo copier ©

By Michael Casey

 This is one piece from essay/blog postings, I type fast so excuse any mistakes.

 Well this is my 100th post, I had hoped I could think up something nice or even spectacular. This is what I've come up with. I'm laughing now as I type. Yesterday 5minutes after I started work I bent down to fill up the copiers. I filled one, then another, then I did a third. I then screamed, I had straightened up too fast and had ricked/strained my back on the right hand side. So these past 27hours have been a lesson in pain and humility. I felt such a fool at work, the girls I work were both sympathetic and funny. Somebody came by for some coloured paper , I bent down to look under our shelf and I was racked with pain, one girl told me to crawl away out of the way so that she could find it instead. I hobbled away, out of the way. The rest of day I moved about like an 80 year old, rather like my own dad. I hoped that on my lunch break while I sat for 30mins in the cathedral my back would be restored. We stand all day in our print as some of you may remember me mention. Prayer and rest for 30mins no doubt aided my soul but not my back. I went back to work and hobbled about for a couple of hours. Then I decided I really had to go home and rest.

Getting home I got off the bus and had to walk only 300yards, a crippled Charlie Chaplin kind of walk, though I look more like Oliver Hardy. I was home 2 hours earlier than normal so the family were surprised.

I told them I was fired as a joke. Then I sat down on an old chair and then I could hardly move. Standing up again was an  impossibility. Last Friday we had a drama with my youngest, this Friday, Friday 13th it was my turn. My girls all laughed at me, just as I would laugh at them if the tables were reversed. Night came and knew I could never climb the stairs to bed, but at least our bathroom was downstairs. So I tumbled onto our sofa and got ready to spend the night there. Only we have a glass coffee table in front of it and I was afraid of falling off onto it. So at 1am I staggered up the stairs like a drunk with locked joints, then I rolled onto my bed, screaming as I did so. I did sleep, but in the morning I had to slither out like a snake sliding out of bed on my belly. Some positions were possible and some were not. My wife laughed till she cried my youngsters did too, as for me, I laughed and cursed and laughed again. My wife went to see the pharmacy man for advice and a spray for me. The pharmacist laughed too, he's an old friend. When she got back I was all sprayed up, the old spray and the newly bought one drenching me and my room with the stench of a bad back. I slithered in and out of bed, crawling around as I couldn't stand up straight. As for getting down stairs that would be an impossibility. My wife went shopping, stopping first to steal my debit card, laughing she left me in my bed of pain. When she returned she gave me yoghurt and orange juice. Later I just had to go downstairs, but I couldn't walk. I slithered off bed like snake, then made it to my hands and knees, then an inspired idea. I bounced down the stairs one step at a time, on my butt , one step at a time. Then I crawled across our living room and pulled myself up onto a chair. I did notice that we needed a new carpet after 20years our carpet does need replacing. I then rewarded myself by stealing my wife's pork she'd just made.

Later after some movements like belly dancer of 120 years old, I managed to straighten up. I do walk as if I have a full diaper though. I made it too my big chair in front of my computer. And that’ s how I got to write this 100th post.

The moral of all this? Well I am a very bad patient. Health is the most important thing in our lives. I rejoice that my girls have a good sense of humour, even if I am the butt of it all. Last year when I had food poisoning they had plenty to laugh about then. And I do laugh at that memory. We are all worms crawling in the dirt. It is God's love that lifts us up, as does our family life. Sometimes it is only though pain and adversity that we learn such truths, sometimes we learn mundane things, but they too have meaning for us, even if its just the fact that we need a new living room carpet. 

600 stories ago, now my back bust again but we do now  have a new carpet 8 years on