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MichaelCasey’sBlogs2011©
50 Writing Samples
by
Michael Casey
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1. Window Shopping ©
by Michael Casey
Well the cold has got me so I’m all bunged up and
drinking gallons of hot drinks, the kettle is whistling
so wait a sec. Ah that’s better, another hot coffee, then
I’ll switch to hot blackcurrant. Why do colds come at
Xmas? They are as predictable as carol singers. I only
ever tried carol singing once as a child that’s another
memory that has rushed back to me.
Rosie told me she believed that if you looked at a toy
shop window you could see all the toys but at night when
you were not there they all came to life. She was a child
at the time, but I hope she lets that memory come to life
often. My kids still believe in Santa as do I, I go for
the fittings of his new costume at Slaters every
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Christmas, and then Santa comes along for the final
fitting, we are about the same size you see. You could
say I am his body double, just like in the films.
But back to Slaters, now they only have a small shop
window then you take the lift upstairs and it’s a bit
like an Aladdin’s cave. But speaking of shop windows and
window shopping there are many ways to window shop. The
real world one can be tiring trudging around the shops,
especially if you have a young and fashionable wife. So I
soon realised the best way was to let her go on her own
while I had peace and quiet, then once we had kids she
took the kids and I had peace and quiet. The perfect
solution, especially as I paid the bill. Young girls
become very fashion conscience, so they were the perfect
mirror, to say mum this is good or this is bad. I’m sure
Shanghai husbands/boyfriends agree with me, perhaps there
should be a club for the Shanghai husbands/boyfriends
Me I look in 2 shop windows and know they won’t have my
size, and then I head for Slaters, sometime with the
family in toe, then its like lightning, flash bang
whallop, I’ve got all I need. That’ll do me for a year or
two.
I do like looking in watch shop windows, watches are a
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weakness of mine, why are men’s watches so huge nowadays,
its like having an alarm clock strapped to your wrist. I
tend to go for the elegant ones, or the elegant ones in
my opinion. The ones with multi dials and buttons to
press and turn are a turnoff. Oris ones are nice, as are
Omega. Yes I do dream of having one of those when I win
the lottery or finally sell some books. My first watch
was for passing the 11plus, its all in The Watch and Me
an essay on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
Now we are in a technological world, we have windows on
the world via our tv and our computer. I was telling my
girls earlier today that we only had 2 or 3 tv channels
when I was their age, they could not believe it. So what
do we do with our tv/computer eyes ?We window shop.
Obviously I look at watches and dream of my automatic
Oris or Omega, and how nice it would be. I have had maybe
20years these past 20 years or so. I’m forever carrying
things and banging my watches. One steamed up and the
front fell off so I superglued the glass back on, only I
glued the hands together.
What else do I window shop? Well when I need a new winter
coat I look at the web sites and see what I can see in
xxl or 2xl as it’s called nowadays. Window shopping on the
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web allows me to see what’s available, the designs and so
forth, all from the comfort of my own home, as you’ve
seen from the photos on my website. The government
encourages all this window shopping because it helps
trade and that in turn helps their tax take, which in
turn should help us. We do finally leave our homes and
visit town and buy stuff and have a beer and a meal while
we are at it.
We all look online before we book our holidays, some look
online for love, romance, sex. And then they book their
holidays. Online is our eyes, nobody will believe how old
fashioned the world used to be, my grandkids won’t
believe the Internet was invented, its as ordinary as
trees growing in a back garden, its always been there. In
the future there will be guided tours explaining about
Window Shopping, about holding hands in the rain, about
blokes gathered in the doorway talking about MU while
their wives/girlfriends try on stuff. Window Shopping is
part of world culture, it’s the 3rd oldest occupation in
the world after sex and stories comes Window Shopping.
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2. What's on the Internet?
There was a piece in today's DT about the internet, my
post Internet Story says a lot about the subject so I've
brought it back below.
But I would first say that using the Internet allows you
to practice your skills, it allows you to be a verbal
Banksy, to share your "wisdom" with the world. It allows
you to hijack websites for your own devices, its like
shouting at a tv crew or pulling faces at the tv crew
while they interview somebody important or self
important, its like mooning while a politician drones on.
Which is more important, a politician trying to save face
or a mooner behind him?
Me I'm trying to get people to read The Butcher The Baker
and The Undertaker my comic novel. If I had a few quid
I'd publish it as an Ebook, at the moment its a free read
on my site. www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I can
empathise with singers who used to tour all the old folk
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clubs being allowed to do three songs in the interval.
Finally they are allowed to do a set of six poems. Mad
Dogs and Englishman was a great band from years ago, they
may be dead now, I hope not but alcohol has got a few of
their kind. Nick Fenwick was another great singer, as was
Tommy Dempsy. Back to the Internet, here everybody has
their 15mins of fame or their own virtual world in which
they are a star, its like Xfactor where you are both the
judge and jury and your own publicist. Yes I've broken
some of the "rules" on the internet but thats the joy of
it you can have your say, the printing press was a great
revolution and brought education to the masses, so now in
its way the Internet brings enlightenment to the masses.
Yes its brings lots of rubbish too, perhaps 50% rubbish
and 50% interesting stuff, but I do think I'm right in
saying it is as important as the printing press. If we
didn't have the Internet we could still be back in the
days of Monks in cells illuminating pages. Now if I could
draw my book would be more sellable, a few drawings grab
people so they turn the pages, cover art is important
too. So if Banksy reads this how about doing some
illustrations for me. As payment they'll be one blank
page in every book so you Banksy can draw to your hearts
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content, me I'll just enjoy the royalties.
Now everybody enjoy Internet Story again. Michael in
Freezing Birmingham
Michael G Casey Email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com
Internet Story ©
By
Michael Casey
So all I had to do was send an email , and then I’d be a
writer , my book in every shop , my face smirking from
cardboard cut outs of me holding my book aloft . My book
had a great title , so it was bound to sell . A Nation Of
Shopkeepers was a great title , if only people could
remember their History , were people interested in
History , and for that matter my book . It wasn’t a
history book , would people think it WAS a history book ,
and then not buy it . It was a comedy drama , about a
street of shops , interconnecting short stories , for all
the family , but would people notice the levels , the
strands of humour , or would they say it’s a Ma & Pa book
, and miss the joke , just as one publisher called did ?
I decided to keep the title , though I had a reserve
title , The Butcher , The Baker and The Undertaker . Then
I realised the US market would rename it The Butcher ,
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The Baker And The Funeral Arranger . You don’t think
about such things when you are writing the book , you’re
just happy , on a roll , in love with your own intellect
, or just surprised you actually DO have any intellect ,
then you discover that you are dyslexic , you really are
dyslexic , thankfully not a really bad case , just
dyslexic . As you proof read you see you have put BUT
instead PUT , LEAD instead of READ , things like this and
other strange things . Sure there are spellcheckers but
or is it put , you have to check it anyway . As you read
you are surprised at your own ability . You didn’t waste
4years in journalism school , but your writing is GOOD ,
Did I write that ? Then your chest filled with pride you
get somebody else to read it , and guess what ? They
think its crap . So now you have to decide , should I
give up or should I carry on ?
I gave up for as while , while is a unit of years in my
case , my life took another path , so the writing was
forgotten , it lay dormant for years , then like a
phoenix it arose , or more truthfully , like a tortoise
awaking from hibernation , sleep still in my eyes I
slowly poked my head out , then back in , went back to
sleep again , then finally with the pangs of hunger in my
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stomach I just had to do something . In my case it was
eat , as in really eat , then I turned to my old Atari
and realised it was not PC compatible , so I bought a new
, or rather an old new Atari which was PC compatible .
Then I spent a day copying my files so that I could read
them on a PC . Then I wrote a few more pieces before I
realised I’d get nowhere in England . The chances of
being published were 1 in 2000 . So like a bear , I went
back in my cave and slumbered .
Meeting my wife Jing Jie was a turning point in my life ,
and not just because it was like Thunder as Jing Jie
calls it , it was a turning point because I had a
professional opinion on my writing , from a journalist at
the very top of the tree . Her uncle is an editor in
chief , so his comments were and are like gold , worth
more than my first coffee and Cadbury’s chocolate , the
pleasure rush I treat myself to every day , his comments
really were that important to me , and I really DO like
my Cadbury’s , so being better than Cadbury’s is the
highest praise I can give . So I knew the quality of my
writing , even if others said and say its crap .
Getting a modern PC and internet connection was another
turning point . Email in our house is like water and
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eclectic in any other homes . Jing Jie can “talk” to her
mum in Shanghai every day . To friends all over the world
as well . Birmingham IS the centre of the universe .So
with hope and fear I had to transfer my files from my old
Atari to the new PC . The floppy discs were old and
battered , several were unreadable , finally my work , my
babies were safely on the new PC . Just to be on the safe
side I set up a web site , so now my work was on
somebody’s server in the US , thousands of miles away ,
safe from fire or theft . I could also put our new baby’s
photos on the web site so that my Chinese family in
Shanghai and Miami and friends all over the world could
see Annie and Jing Jie and me , they could even read my
work too .
So now all I had to do was market my work in the US ,
simple really , soon I’d be doing something useful with
my life , making people laugh . I’d be a writing whore ,
I’d get paid to make others laugh , the best job in the
world . So how would I set about it ? I got a list of
radio stations from the internet and started sending
emails galore . I’m talking in the hundreds now , to
radio stations the length and breath of the US .They
could publicise my site then eventually I’d get published
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, or my play would get produced . It was simple wasn’t it
. So merrily I went about my business , sending emails
galore . Years before I used to send off big heavy
envelopes with my work in , with more persistence than
hope in my heart .”Thank you for your pieces of paper “was
the best put down . I once even met a writer and he
agreed to read my play Shoplife , then he wrote back
calling me a plagiarist , because it was so good . So I
used his note as toilet paper , Shoplife was so good
because I had 20years of experience given to me by my
sister , I just improved on it , but yet I was called a
Copyist , so naturally I was angry and used his note to
wipe my bum .
I wondered why my strike rate was so low with my emails
to radio stations , then somebody casually mentioned ,
“You do know they will just delete anything with an
attachment” . In these days of viruses or worms which
I’ve discovered is the new trendy word , nobody can risk
their PC , so I merrily send and they merrily delete .
I’d been wasting my time , but not my money because I’d
got a 24/7 package on my internet from AOL .However one
radio station did read Shoplife . The DJ or is it Host ,
he called it hilarious and he could not stop reading it .
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It turned out he was an actor as well , though isn’t
everybody an actor in the US ?So I thanked him , and
quoted him in my future advertising .Humour is a funny
thing . The things that make English people laugh are not
the same as the things that make Americans’ laugh . We
are constantly told by people on tv that English TV is
the best in the world , the US material we see is the top
10% , the rest is rubbish . But I know I’d never get my
foot in the door in England so I had to persist with my
American campaign , so now I pasted in my material , no
attachments . Just get them hooked , then paste in a
sample then direct them to www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
Then bingo part2 of my life could begin ,I’d be the man
that made America laugh , a naïve sentiment , but it was
honest .Only AOL turns things into zip files and some
people can’t unzip your files , it’s like wanting sex but
your zipper is broke and you can’t get your trousers off
. Such a strong urge , but no fulfilment .
I switched to MSMAIL and pasted in my stuff , things
started to happen , my files weren’t being deleted or too
zipped up to be read . At least I wasn’t frustrated any
more . Now I had an agent interested , and a new magazine
, even a theatre replied .All praise to Bill Gates , and
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to a Christian called Pat Verato who pointed me in the
direction of a few good sites .However some of the sites
that I trawled through were just , so very American . Hey
, you too can be a writer , just send me 10 dollars and
I’ll send you my book “How to make 10 dollars” , and he
does . Then there’s magazines you can subscribe to , yes
you’ve guessed it , just send another 10 dollars “Writing
for Beginners” . There’s all these agents too who are so
successful , persuading tap dancing bus drivers to write
about Tap Dancing For Bus Drivers , the complete self
help book , costs 10 dollars . The agent gets 20percent ,
and the bus driver pays 5000dollars to print 500 copies ,
then he can boast he’s a writer , not just a bus driver ,
and guess what if you pay 10 dollars you can learn to tap
dance too .
As for me , what do I think of all this ? I’d say just
keep on writing , stop your selling , or attempts at
selling , just write a bit . Add to your catalogue of 3
poems and 2 short stories , then search for an agent .
Believe you’ll never be published and then you won’t be
disappointed. There is one final thing you can do though
, just tell everybody to go to my site
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
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And help find a publisher for my book , and then you’ve
guessed it , just send me 10 dollars !
End
3. I know your face
I know your face ©
By Michael Casey
Somebody said he knew my face today, he was looking at a
photo of me on my site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com But
100,000 people know my face, I worked at a 4star hotel
for a few years so that many guests must have seen me. I
have brothers and cousins, so I suppose my face could
look familiar. My hair is distinctive, it went white,
silver if you’re generous to me, it went silver 20 years
before it should have. I’m “granddad” on the school run.
In songs a face changes things, “when I saw her face” the
Monkees sang, I was small when their show was on tv.
“Take that look off your face” another song sings. For
the Chinese its about not losing face, saving face is
important. Putting a face to a name is what we say when
we meet after just phone or email contact. Faces are
important, we can see each other, we can see each other’s
reactions, the look of love or the sneer of contempt.
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Fear written on a face, tired and worn out, sad eyes,
pained eyes all of this is on a face. But what about a
mother’s face, love is written all over it, kindness and
compassion and laughter too. My wife took my mother’s
photo to Shanghai to introduce her to my Chinese family,
my mother had died a few years previously but the photo
showed them the depths of love, the oceans of love, all
of this from the smile on her face. A face is a door to
the soul, a way to the heart, a sign showing just how
much spirit of love is inside a person. A face is a road
map for love, so always be open, a hard uncaring, a hard
look is self defeating, I’m strong, leave the face
pulling alone, leave it for heavy weight boxers. Me I
hope I have a ready smile, a warm look just as it was
given me by my parents and by my heritage. His face
reminds me of Santa, now that is a face worth keeping.
Smile Everybody.
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4. Counting Money ©
By Michael Casey
The King was in his counting house accounting out his
money when down came a Blackbird…
We all remember this from school days, days getting
further away from us all the time.
We all know how to save the pennies, save the pennies and
the pounds will look after themselves.
Make ends meet, what does that mean, touching your toes
perhaps?
Scrimp and save, things are tight, does that mean you are
fat? Or lack of money.
We all learn about money when we are small. We remember
the sound of loose change in dad’s pocket.
We were getting a treat because Dad was getting money
out, we could hear the sound we were happy.
I’m old enough to remember real money, pounds shillings
and pence money.
It was 12 pennies to the shilling and 20 shillings to a
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pound, and horses were sold in guinnies, if I’ve spelt it
right.
Our money confused my American cousins, but it was fun
explaining it to them. A halfpenny, a penny, a threepenny
bit, a sixpence, a shilling, a florin, a half a crown,
crowns I next saw, an orange 10 shillings note and then a
pound note, and then other notes which I never got to see
because I was too small.
Explain all that to a foreigner and they were totally
lost, going to the moon was easier to understand.
I’m old enough to remember the joy of the Apollo landing,
we were the world, everything was so exciting, Apollo and
Ali not to mention the Beatles and real money.
A penny was made of copper and so was the half penny, the
threepenny bit was six sided with a portcullis design on
it, it went green with age. The sixpence was very slim
slimmer that today’s 5 new pence. The shilling was
thicker and perhaps bigger than today’s 10pence. It was
real money and the sweets it bought were so much better
than today’s sweets, or so it seems.
We knew about money because we had lodgers and they came
to the back door to pay the rent, sometimes barely able
to stand up, smoke and beer belching over us kids. Are
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you alright Mrs Casey? As they leant on the lintel for
support, staggering away to the pub again.
The gas and electric meters had to be emptied and the
money counted. We had a copper coloured metal jug which
had the keys for the locks on the meters inside it, when
dad had then we knew he’d be counting soon. He emptied
the money on the kitchen table and started counting,
piles of coins, shillings and florins.
Dad was like a Casino croupier counting and stacking the
coins. Then when he’d finished he’d put the coins in
little plastic bags, and after that in a small leather
black bag. This was his lunch bag for work at the
foundry, but when the gas or electric bill came it was
the bag for the money. I was charged with walking down to
the corner shop, there I’d present the money to Mr Singh
who wouldn’t even weigh it, just throw it in his safe and
peel off the money from his very large wad from his back
pocket. Smiling we’d say our goodbyes both happy with the
exchange. Who needs a bank when you have a corner shop?
There are more stories to tell, but I’ll save those for
another day.
TTFN
Michael
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5. We Are Words
We Are Words (c)
By
Michael Casey
Words have meaning words have power
Words are nothing but hot air
Words mean this words mean that
Words can set you free
Words can send you to jail
Words can be sprayed on a wall like cat's pee
Words can be printed on a press and sell millions
Words can be illuminated one at a time by Monks
Words are lies words are truth
Words can send you to war
Words can bring peace
We are Words
In the Beginning was the word
But what is the last word
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6. If Music Be The Food Of Love ©
By
Michael Casey
If Music Be The Food Of Love wrote Shakespeare, he was
right, Music Is The Food Of Love. A boy can get up
close and personal if he has the right mood music. A
girl’s heart will melt if he has the right song on his
hifi, or should I say IPod. Music touches us, it makes
our hearts beat faster, just as a bit of flesh revealed
makes our eyes dilate.
In the interests of balance should I reverse the
sentence, a boy’s heart will melt, or a gay lover’s heart
will melt etc. Let’s take that as read, Love does
Conquer All as my mum once encouraged me, and if you look
at my family photo you’ll see IT DID.
Now Music has been a big thing in my life, since 1974 to
be exact. How can I be so exact? Well my brother went off
to be a coal miner then, that was his gap year before
they were even invented. He did go off to a very good
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University the year after, the very best to be exact. So
while he was a miner I was all alone in the homework
room. To break the silence I listened to a radio while I
did my homework. So love of music while I struggled with
Latin homework, Latin is a form of torture but it does
focus the mind, I’m pleased to say I got a B. Remember
the Ablative Absolute is like, say, remember the Alamo.
Years later I used to go to a Folk club and see 3 bands
every week. Later still I went to a Jazz club, mainly
Trad Jazz, so I know a good or bad musician when I hear
one, and I know a good voice when I hear one. If ever I
develop cancer it will be because of all the years of
smoke while I listened to music. The idea for the Jazz
band and Jazz funeral in The Butcher The Baker and The
Undertaker came from all those years of music.
I love my radio so much, it was and still is a constant
companion. Though before I got my own house I also
listened to plays on Radio 4, I can spot one from
100yards now, 20years of listening to Radio 4 before I
took up a pen myself. But it’s music I want to tell you
about. Music is a reservoir of emotions, past and
present. Elvis brings back memories, why? My dad
discovered Elvis in his 60s, there was a series of Elvis
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films on TV over Christmas so my dad watched them all and
was impressed. If there was a good song on the radio dad
would raise the volume and then lower it again when the
other rubbish returned. Dad would be shaving in the
kitchen because the bathroom was too cold and he’d come
in the living room all lathered up and he’d say he/she
has a good voice.
Me, I’m very eclectic in my tastes though Regaee does
leave me cold, its washing machine music the same repeat
motion/noise as a washing machine. Yes I know a whole
avalanche of criticism will fall on me, but as Joanne
used to say “we are all different” so let’s agree to
disagree. What’s amazing nowadays is that lots of the
music I remember is 40years old. I was young when I heard
Eric Clapton for example because of bigger brothers, so
now it makes me realise I’m getting old, being called
“grandpa” by teachers when I do the school run is one
example. I tend to listen to Magic radio on my dab radio,
because the music is good and they don’t prattle over the
songs. But I still am amazed at the age of some of the
music, but it’s the music that’s old, NOT ME, I still
feel 20 in my head.
Today Lady Gaga is Queen, she has a great voice and is
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very pretty, ok very sexy. Her videos are fun and she
seems to know how to stay ahead of the music and other
press. You get so many wanna bes who if you listen to
their voice really are 2nd rate, 1 hit wonders. I
suppose the test is, if you listen to your dab radio and
hear a voice do you want to open your eyes and poke your
head out from under the duvet. If the voice is good then
you will because the dab text will tell you who is
singing. On some of the tv talent shows the voices are
terrible, but when you hear a good voice you can press
record on your Sky+ remote. If my dad was still alive
he’d raise the volume on the radio to listen to Lady
Gaga, if he saw her he might think she was a modern
Dorethy Lamore in a Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road Movie.
But Gaga is already making her own Road To movies and
they really are a modern form of Art.
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7. Bring On The Tears ©
By
Michael Casey
What makes you cry? I’ve just wiped a few tears away
before I started talking to you. Today in 11th Nov 2010,
which is Remembrance day, it is also my dad’s Birthday,
he would have been 89 today.
My dad was a man of peace who spent his life in the heat
of the furnace,The District Iron and Steel, Brasshouse
Lane was where he worked for 40 years. He came over to
England in 1944, he was a blacksmith. My father was a
gentle man a kind and caring man, hew spoilt me he always
got me an extra ice cream when he was on holiday, my many
siblings called me Pet because of it.
If there was a film on tv and it was touching, my dad
used to clear his throat and pretend he was getting a
cold, he move to the kitchen to dab away those tears. Or
he’d put the kettle on. My dad was very very strong,
after our mum had died he said she was strong, he said
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mum was as strong as a horse, the highest compliment a
blacksmith can make. My mother died in her sleep next to
her husband of nearly 50year. My brother climbed into
the bed and cradled her in his arms and tried CPR but she
was already dead. Eight weeks later, the same brother
heard a noise, it was our dad falling out of bed. My
brother laid dad down on the bedroom floor flat and
started CPR, he screamed to another brother, 999.My
brother saved our dad.
I wrote all of this down in Padre Pio and Me. The bottom
line, I have a Shanghai wife and 2 bilingual daugthers
all because of my brother and Padre Pio too.
When we look at an object we have an association too, an
object is not just an object its an association too. The
electrical socket for my washing machine is there because
my dad put it there, it doesn’t mean I cry every time I
do the laundry, but it does mean I smile. I have an old
barn chair with the back broken off, my mum used to
stand on it when she washed the outdoor windows, its been
in my house nearly a quarter of a century. This reminds
me of my mum. In fact I sat on that chair with the old
typewriter balanced on a red stool when I wrote my comic
novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, I can
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even remember when and where we bought that stool, it
was 1973. Simple objects are full of memories and
meaning. In Citizen Kane it was Rosebud the sledge that
meant so much when Kane died.
I had a pair of Rosary beads but I felt they were too
gaudy, so I gave them to my mum. No doubt she used them
well, she really knew how to pray. That may have been 15
to 20 years ago, now she’s gone, but my brother said he
had a spare set of Rosary bead would I like them. So he
have them to me, he said they belonged to our mum, and
yes they were the very same pair. So love and “objects”
had performed a circle. My sister’s house has white
lillies scattered all about her front garden, they only
appeared after our mum had died. Mum had sneaked up to my
sister’s house and planted them with Love. So after she
was gone there appeared a reminder of her and her Love.
I have a speaker in the corner of my living room, my
brother used to play Cream music on it via a reel to reel
tape recorder. So that too has an association. I did in
fact meet Eric Clapton when I was working in a 4star
hotel, so that in a way was a circle.
There are many things and many lives that touch and
connect with one another, such as the lolly pop lady when
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you do the school run, or the nice dog tied up outside a
school waiting for the kids to finish school.There are
grand gestures too, such as in My Big Fat Greek Wedding
the dad buys his daughter a house, right next door to his
own. All this is love in many many forms and I’ve just
touched the surface. I can remember my mum crying her
eyes out over a broken wooden coat hanger, why? Because
her mother had given it to her in 1944 when she had left
Kerry for England. Many things Bring On The Tears, but
they are tears of Love.
28
8. If You Go Down To The Woods Today ©
By
Michael Casey
Well we all know about Teddy Roosevelt and how he could
not bring himself to shoot a bear while out hunting.
Teddy Bear came into existence. Thousands of bears,
millions of bears, probably more bears than there are
people in China have “Lived” thanks to teddy. I bought my
future wife a panda when we first met, the panda was
made in China, just as she was. In fact she used to say
I was her Panda before she changed her mind and called me
Panzi in Chinese which means FAT FAT BOY. So that panda
travelled from China to England and then back to China,
and then she brought it back home to England when she
came back to me, that’s 15,000 miles by my reckoning. My
daughters have been back and forth a few times, when you
marry a Shanghai girl international travel is inevitable.
Girls just love their teddy bears too, my smallest just
adores Winnie the Pooh, she was saying a few hours ago
29
she wished she could have a Winnie the pooh bed and
carpet and wallpaper, basically everything that could
possibly be Winnie the Pooh. My girls have received lots
of cuddly toys, teddy bears and all things cuddly. I did
a count a while back and I stopped at 40. These toys live
behind the settee next to the vacuum cleaner and my old
collection of CDs. Every now and then my small daughter
drags them out from the 3 Plastic bag carrier bags and
makes them pay attention, she plays teacher and they are
her class. She then takes the register before starting to
read to them. The cuddly toys sit up straight listening
eagerly while she reads to them, she is quite a strict
teacher.
Now a while back while the wife was tidying up the
plastic bag with the cuddly toys broke open scattering
teddies everywhere. So we had to have a cull, you have
to feed fizzy pop gently to the toys until they fall
asleep only to awake at the North Pole where Santa
welcomes them and makes them as good as new until they
become new toys for new owners. We had to have another
cull today, my small daughter separated the sheep from
the goats so to speak. Then the unwanted toys were placed
in an Plastic bag carrier next to the front door, no
30
fizzy pop for them, just a plastic bag, in the morning
they will find themselves in a charity shop soon to have
new children to love them. There was one cuddly toy a
hush puppy dog that we had brought back from Florida
years ago neither of my girls liked it, but I do so I
have rescued him from the Plastic bag bag, he can live on
top of my bedroom Dab radio. I cannot decide what to call
the dog, my new best friend, we bought it in a shoe shop,
HushPuppy maybe, or Subway the dog. We always said if we
have a real dog we’d call him subway.
Christmas is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have been
saved and will decorate our house once Christmas gets
nearer. For now my daughter has arranged them on top of
the piano, looking over my shoulder I can see, Winnie the
Pooh(of course), Tigger and another Winnie the Pooh, a
snowman with bells, a cat from Shanghai who’s chasing
Minnie Mouse along the keys, it sounds like Jazz and
finally there is a smiling teddy with Christmas hat and
gloves on. Well I hope the toys find nice new homes via
the Charity shop, as for me I hope HushPuppy/Subway
hasn’t left any messages on my Dab radio.
31
9. Teddy Bear Cull ©
By
Michael Casey
Well we all know about Teddy Roosevelt and how he could
not bring himself to shoot a bear while out hunting.
Teddy Bear came into existence. Thousands of bears,
millions of bears, probably more bears than there are
people in China have “Lived” thanks to teddy. I bought my
future wife a panda when we first met, the panda was
made in China, just as she was. In fact she used to say
I was her Panda before she changed her mind and called me
Panzi which means FAT FAT BOY. So that panda travelled
from China to England and then back to China, and then
she brought it back home to England when she came back
to me, that’s 15,000 miles by my reckoning. My daughters
have been back and forth a few times, when you marry a
Shanghai girl international travel is inevitable.
Girls just love their teddy bears too, my smallest just
adores Winnie the Pooh, she was saying a few hours ago
32
she wished she could have a Winnie the pooh bed and
carpet and wallpaper, basically everything that could
possibly be Winnie the Pooh. My girls have received lots
of cuddly toys, teddy bears and all things cuddly. I did
a count a while back and I stopped at 40. These toys live
behind the settee next to the vacuum cleaner and my old
collection of CDs. Every now and then my small daughter
drags them out from the 3 Iceland carrier bags and makes
them pay attention, she plays teacher and they are her
class. She then takes the register before starting to
read to them. The cuddly toys sit up straight listening
eagerly while she reads to them, she is quite a strict
teacher.
Now a while back while the wife was tidying up the
plastic bag with the cuddly toys broke open scattering
teddies everywhere. So we had to have a cull, you have
to feed fizzy pop gently to the toys until they fall
asleep only to awake at the North Pole where Santa
welcomes them and makes them as good as new until they
become new toys for new owners. We had to have another
cull today, my small daughter separated the sheep from
the goats so to speak. Then the unwanted toys were placed
in an Iceland carrier next to the front door, no fizzy
33
pop for them, just a plastic bag, in the morning they
will find themselves in a charity shop soon to have new
children to love them. There was one cuddly toy a hush
puppy dog that we had brought back from Florida years
ago neither of my girls liked it, but I do so I have
rescued him from the Iceland bag, he can live on top of
my bedroom Dab radio. I cannot decide what to call the
dog, my new best friend, HushPuppy maybe, or Subway the
dog.
Christmas is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have been
saved and will decorate our house one Christmas gets
nearer. For now my daughter has arranged them on top of
the piano, looking over my shoulder I can see, Winnie the
Pooh(of course), Tigger and another Winnie the Pooh, a
snowman with bells, a cat from Shanghai who’s chasing
Minnie Mouse along the keys, it sounds like Jazz and
finally there is a smiling teddy with Christmas hat and
gloves on. Well I hope the toys find nice new homes via
the Charity shop, as for me I hope HushPuppy/Subway
hasn’t left any messages on my Dab radio.
34
10. From Fireworks to The Grave ©
By
Michael Casey
The girls were singing at a Wedding Yesterday morning,
they came home telling us about the bride and groom. They
also heard that there was a fireworks display that night.
They asked could they go, so I said yes if they behaved.
They behaved all afternoon, so at half past six I nagged
them top put on full winter gear, hat, coat, scarf and
gloves. They wouldn’t believe me that it would be that
cold outside but I explained it would. So reluctantly
they put all the layers on. The witch as we call my wife
drove up to the firework display. It was behind the
church where they had been singing a few hours earlier.
My wife, or the witch said she’d collect us a few hours
later, she said I could ring her. Only I had forgotten to
bring the mobile phone, I have only acquired a mobile
phone this year and I don’t really know how to use it, an
I don’t really want it either, its for emergencies, its
35
on the Asda tariff because that’s the cheapest. Its my
wife’s 1st phone. Anyway we said goodbye and we went to
watch the firework show.
Only there was a problem, the price to attend was too
much, I have to watch every penny at the moment and I
didn’t think it was worth it anyway. So we stood on the
pavement in front and to one side of the church. From
that vantage point we enjoyed the fireworks display, a
bit like watching tv though your neighbours window. There
were a few other families who did the same. So we
watched the fireworks while my 9 year old filmed it on
our old digital camera, she was very pleased with her
efforts. I promised them we’d buy sweets and pop to make
up for not seeing the fireworks display officially. My
girls understood and after 20mins of illegal watching of
fireworks we started to walk home. As I had forgotten the
phone we’d have to walk and not get a lift from mum. But
I do know how to improvise, it’s a gift I do have.
We stopped at the 1st sweet shop and they roamed around,
but girls being girls they could not make up their minds,
so they left that sweet shop with nothing. Now from the
church to our house is a good 25min walk and is twisty
and curvy and runs alongside the woods at Warley Woods
36
and golf course. So as its was the Eve of Halloween I
asked them did they want to walk through the dark woods.
No they both said, but I knew they would like it so we
crossed on the crossings which cross the race track of a
road. The boldly we went a few yards into the dark dark
woods. We were only there for a minute but it was a good
thing to do so close to Halloween. Then we crossed back
to the safer side of the road. My smallest daughter
wanted a rest so we stopped at a bus stop and sat on the
plastic seats, I told them that I had a bus pass, would
they like me to leave them there while I jumped on the
bus.
After a couple of minutes rest we resumed our trek back,
were we like the Von Trapp family, no Swiss mountains for
us, only the long and winding road. The kids could see
the retaining wall of their school, from that point on,
even in the dark they knew their way home. Spirits lifted
I had an idea. My big daughter’s friend lived just down
the road on a side road. So when we were outside her
friend’s house we did ghostly noises, just like in Michael
Jackson’s Thriller. I thought I made the best screams.
Sadly no lights went on in the house, not unless we had
given her nan a heart attack. Further down the road by the
37
light of a front room we could see a child in a witches
Hat he was pretending to be a witch. It turned out that
he was a friend of my other daughter, this was too good
an opportunity to miss, so again we made ghost and ghoul
noises. The child inside lifted the curtain to check was
the devil outside, no it was only us. My big daughter
laughed and laughed when she say his face appear, she hid
beneath the high retaining front wall and then ran
laughing to use further down the road.
We went to Thimbermill and got our chocolate and Dr
Pepper, we had had some fun after all. My small daughter
had said when we were in the dark dark park that she
had seen a cross, we were in a graveyard. I think it was
the support posts for a sapling, not unless it was….
Finally home we decided to scare mum, our resident witch,
so my big daughter did her big scream and she managed to
scare the neighbours over the road, but mum had the last
laugh, she was sitting in dark watching a Chinese movie
on the internet so when we entered the house she scared
us.
Well that’s how we enjoyed our Saturday night. Tonight
31st Oct 2010 we had several trick or treats at the door,
so I just screamed back I’m dead,” followed by my best
38
Vincent Price scream/laugh. But the kids and parents
weren’t impressed. Today does mark an anniversary, its
11years since I was made redundant from CAN been a few
varied years, and best of all I have two daughters whom I
can stroll in the dark with Don’t tell anybody though,
my witch is more like Bewitched
39
11. My Arm Chair
by Michael Casey
I did actually bust my armchair the other day. My kids do
sit on the arm rests with me while we watch films, Camp
Rock, High School Musical etc for the zillionth time.
My wife used to sit on my lap in my rocking chair, the
rocking chair lasted 18 years. So the current armchair
may be 6 years old. I was lucky with the rocking chair
because it was part of a suite, in fact it was the only
reason I bought the suite. As for the current armchair
it was part of a suite too but the customer did not want
it so I picked it up cheap for £45, yes only £45. All my
girls do squeeze onto it while they watch Phoenix TV, now
the bottom has fallen out of the chair, we've had to put
a big cushion under the seat of the chair. So that'll do
until we can save up for a new armchair. I had a quick
look in two furniture shops and its £200 plus just for a
single armchair. I will go back to the same furniture
shop where I picked up my bargain 6 years ago, but I'm
40
not holding my breath.
Rocking chairs are great and I'd love to have another
furnished rocking chair, perhaps I could be a rocking
chair tester, or the NHS could send me one of their new
vibrating chairs. A good chair is a thing of beauty in
itself, and the rocking is very soothing too, and with a
nice drink in your hand then that is poetry in itself.
Cue Queen's Song We Will Rock You.
When our dog long ago broke its pelvis he was saved by
the vet, and we placed him in our dad's old armchair when
the dog came home. When our dad came home from the
steelworks the poor dog got out of the armchair because
he knew it was dad's chair, I remember it so well. Our
cat used to enjoy an armchair too, soft and cosy, she'd
fall asleep purring like a Jaguar car.
So the point of all this musing? Enjoy your armchair,
because your kids and wife and finally grandkids love
that chair too, in one object you capture the word
family.
p.s. cross your fingers so I find a cheap replacement
Michael
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
41
12. The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare
The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare ©
By Michael Casey
I just read a piece in this morning’s DT it was about the
Vatican’s newspaper and the Simpsons.
The DT comment button did not work so I’ve written this
piece instead.
Shakespeare touches all of us, once we learn or are
taught how to understand it. It may mean a West Side
story experience. It may mean Shakespeare in Love or a
modern version with Leonardo di Caprio.
But it is all Shakespeare, yes I know the literati will
moan as the always do, but underneath it is Shakespeare.
It’s the universality of it,
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com for my stuff, more like an
Ealing Comedy. But back to today the Vatican/Jesuit take
on the Simpsons. My girls tease and say I’m like the dad
in the Simpsons, I tell them I’m much much slimmer.
Comedy pokes fun and draws us closer together as we laugh
42
at what’s happening, and a big part is laughing at
others’ suffering, PC people will spin in their graves,
and the soon the better.
There was a really good series on tv about Shakespeare
and how he could have been a secret Catholic amongst
other things, not to mention his eclectic background, he
could touch bases with so many things because of his life
experience. So the Simpsons touch bases with us because
it highlights the worst in us all, and then we laugh at
ourselves, there is no “I couldn’t possibly be like
that” because we ARE like that. I suppose in the New
Testament the common touch in the language/life draws us
towards the Divine, The Simpsons could it be called the
common man’s Bible? I don’t know, you’ll have to read
more of the Bible and watch more of the Simpsons. And ask
the Jesuits who write the Vatican newspaper, me I’m going
to find my deck of cards you may remember the song.
43
13. Which Way Do You Look?
By
Michael Casey
Which way do you look? I’m thinking of this because it’s
an anniversary today, so it got me thinking. I also
heard today about the funeral arrangements for our old
priest, he was the priest who came to the house to
confirm that our mum was indeed dead, when my dad saw him
enter the house with my brother and sister my dad started
to cry. So now we cry for that priest.
Events make you look this way and make you look that way.
Events touch us and pain us, events make us laugh and
make us sigh. Today in Chile the whole nation screams in
celebration, to be honest the whole world smiles too, we
are the world.
When you look in a mirror which way do you look? If you
are a girl or a lady you look at your body and wonder is
it as you want it to be. Is your hair good this way or
that way, do those clothes really suit you or should you
44
take them back to the shop to exchange them, you’ve tried
20 things to match them but they just don’t work with
your wardrobe. Yes you’ll take them back, I mean your
mirror is so much better than the one in the shop, and
why don’t husbands understand about clothes.
Men look in mirrors for 2 seconds as they drag the comb
through their hair, they never seem to notice the stubble
on their chins, or the paint on their jumpers, they shame
their wives.
Do you look forward or do you look backward? It depends
on how your life is doing. If you’re on the dole with no
hope you may look backward to when you had a job and the
money that went with it. You’re afraid to look ahead it’s
looking into the gloom, it’s like the Titanic, all fog
and mist. Some take refuge in drink or worse, glass ½
full or glass ½ empty, or maybe the glass is just not big
enough. Your prospective influences how you cope with
things.
You can look forward by looking at the property pages on
www.rightmove.co.uk if only you get more money then
you’ll move house, even if it would really be a lottery
win amount of money. You can look forward more
realistically by looking at Argos and Currys and comet
45
and do some window shopping for the things you really
need to replace once the money comes in again. A new
cooker perhaps, a new living room carpet, perhaps a
fridge, or just upgrade the central heating boiler. All
these are looking forward.
I look back a fair bit, because I have lots of memories
and spent a lot of time with my dad in his good years and
his fading years in the old people’s home, you can find
out more by reading Padre Pio and Me on
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I have almost total recall
for my family events. I’m the one who remembers all the
family growing up things. When my brother went to
University he bought our little sister a tricycle, it was
£5, that was good use of student grant, over 40 years
ago. Now my own daughter has ambitions to go to that
University. My younger daughter had a tricycle too, I got
it as a gift from a toy show that passed through a hotel
where I was working a few years ago.
I think having memories is good, it certainly means I
have material to write about, growing up with lodgers for
example. I look back with love and think just much love
we got from our parents. “You are as good as anybody” is
what I can remember my mum saying, proud and defiant she
46
was, for her love was a nuclear weapon. Mothers know how
to use nuclear weapons, their love really is that
powerful. I have an idea for Tears For A Butcher my 3rd
book, if ever I get to write it.
14. A Winter's Day
As I look from my window I see the blue blue sky. Birds
dive and soar better than any circus acrobat, they are
painting a picture with their wings. Tiny tiny whisps of
white cloud remain, like left over candy floss on a
childs face, like white whiskers on a very old woman’s
face.
Curtains are pulled open and windows are inched open too,
daylight and fresh air to bedrooms shuttered down against
a cold winters night. People stand and yarn and scratch
too as they struggle to wake up fully. Then one or two
realise they don’t wear any pyjamas so they hurry away
from their windows, their wives, their husbands, their
lovers laughing at their stupidity. At least old Mrs
Jones may have had a thrill.
The sounds of morning, of daylight rise. Slowly the sound
of the milk float, the sounds of milk bottles clinking
together as the milkman does his rounds, this way and
that. The sound of of Mrs Murphy walking her dog, the dog
47
panting in the cold winters air. He doesn’t have a
sheepskin coat to keep him warm. He has his own fur coat
but this winter is a cold one, so Goldie the dog could do
with an extra coat too.
People dance down their door steps to their car, nagging
children to hurry up as its cold. Children write their
name in the frost on their neighbours’ cars before being
told off. John the neighbourhood jogger rushes past, the
kids stick their tongue out at him, he does the same,
they all laugh, only for John to miss his stride slip on
an icy patch and fall to the ground hurting his elbow as
he does so. Still laughing the kids get in the car and are
taken off to see grandpa, John is rubbing his elbow and
his bum as he gets ups gingerly.
The lads, we are so hard, appear from their homes to
noisily attack the day, Sunday is for shouting, but not
too loud, as they have headaches and hangovers, did they
really chat up that ugly fat girl, but they gave her his
brother’s mobile number and not his own. They stride off
to the news agent for The News Of The World, just for the
sports pages, their mums can read the scandal section and
the horoscopes.
One or two black people wearing their Sunday best pass by
48
on their way to church, a throwback to decades before
when people still went to church and when people still
wore their Sunday best. People used to dress up to go to
the theatre too, but now, but now.
I reach for the kettle and have my first coffee of the
day, coffee with milk and no sugar, the way English
people have coffee, not the American way, just the soft
English way. My kids want toast and peanut butter, or
cheese on toast, so my 3 slices of toast become one slice
of toast as I feed my girls. I nag them to put slippers
and socks on, yes we have nice carpet but in the winter’s
weather they are always getting colds, so I nag them, I
nag them. My wife nags them in Chinese too, or Shanghai
dialect. The phone rings, its Germany calling, or rather
my wife’s best friend who’s calling from Germany, the
cackle or hens, of chickens clucking is the noise these 2
Shanghai girls make, as they talk in Shanghai, when are
we coming back to Germany is the message. Cluck cluck
cluck.
The sky has changed the blue has changed to grey, will
the snow return, it’s been a snowy winter over here in
Birmingham, some parts of the country have had the worse
weather in 20years. The children have quietened down, my
49
wife has relented and put a nature program on the tv for
them. As for me I was going to try and write a poem but
instead you see what’s before you. I’m half listening to
Mike and The Mechanics a cd I’ve loaded to the computer,
“give me the simple life” he sings, I suppose my life is
a simple life too. But if we can see the poetry in life
then we enjoy the simple things which make up all are
lives. All our lives are poetry if only we take the time
to watch and listen, while we’re making toast for the
kids.
50
15. My Atheist Friend
I spent the afternoon with my friendly atheist he was
condemning God, he thought God existed but only as a bad
and evil thing. He assumed a lot about my faith, and was
wrong about it and me. Now should I bother to try and
convert him? Should I point him in the direction of his
local church where he could find himself a nice wife. Do
people go to church to finds wives, now that's another
question. Or should I let him carry on until he stumbled
over his own direction. I did explain how I stood by my
fridge and asked God to intervene in my life, my 3 wishes
so to speak, its in my essay Padre Pio and Me on my
site. And then as if by magic I met my Shanghai wife.
However atheists put themselves in a box, a cold steel
box and throw away the key, and they are not Houdini's
who can escape, they are like collapsed dead stars deep
in the cold of space.
Does family make us believe in God? Wishing for a family
was one of my 3 wishes. I got all my luck in one go is
51
what my Kerry cousins say. You ask for anything will do
and you get the best, better than all the rest as the
song goes.
THe autumn leaves fall and Life will soon die, winter
will come and cold will desend, but in the spring there
will be growth as Chance the gardener. How to plant a
seed where there is forever autumn as another song goes.
How do you plant a seed in an atheist's heart does he
have to suffer a dark night of the soul before like a
caterpillar he emerges as a beautiful butterfly? Its a
difficult question especially when I got my faith at the
nipple. Others of many faiths learnt their faith when
they were toddlers, the trendy I'll wait till they grow
up so they can decide for themselves always strikes me as
child neglect of the worst sort.
Christmas is a happy time full of innocence and hope,
perhaps I should drag my friend to Midnight Mass and let
him hear carols, silent night holy night. When we sing
and remember our family members who have gone ahead.
Should I make him look up at the stars overhead twinkling
to eternity, for there is always hope. Hope springs
Eternal.
52
16. Words are for what? ©
By Michael Casey
Words are for what? Conversation, a chat, gossip, juicy
gossip, a quiet word, a stern word, a protest, a scream,
a shout, a murmur, whispers, a buzz or just plain old
prattle.
Today the news is full of the Labour Party, much is being
said and not said, how will the future be, will they the
brothers bury the hatchet, do they wish to bury the
hatchet in one another’s head. Are they both lying about
everything? Or are they both champions of truth. One
thing is certain the Tories just love this result.
Political reporters just love it too, those politic al
reporters are prettier nowadays too, I remember when I
was a child it was just Robin Day in his dickybow
talking to other men about politics. I once saw Robin Day
in the street, he was a really fast walker. Now Robin Day
was great with words, he could and would call somebody a
%%%$$%^&& to their face but he used such elegant words,
53
it would be an honour to be dumped on by him. Robin Day’s
most famous quote was “Some here today gone tomorrow
politician.” He said that to Sir John Knott when the
Falklands War kicked off, John Knott walked off set. At
the time nobody knew where the Falklands were, were they
in extreme northern Scotland?
Words though do have so much strength. Hitler knew this,
and look what happened. Other evil leaders did the same
thing, pick your own despot.
Sometimes all it takes is a word and things can be
healed. Sorry is the hardest word to say as the song
goes. Kids play in the playground and harsh words are
said, kids are cruel is what any teacher will tell you.
“Take it back” is another catchphrase, then you have to
say the magic formula of words and all is healed. Or is
it? With kids in the playground, or between brother and
sister yes, hopefully. But with international relations?
Pick your own dispute.
Love songs have so much power, or certain words can
tickle us and make us smile, or make us angry. When I was
in Shanghai in 2000 meeting the family at one dinner a
13year old boy was proud to sing a song he knew in
English, Michael Row the boat ashore. He grew whiskers on
54
his chinagin the wind came out and blew them in again.
The Chinese boy was so proud. It was the same song that
my brothers and sisters used to sing to me to make me
cry. I think I laughed in 2000. In 2007 at another
dinner I met him again, he asked did I remember him, he
was now as big as myself. Of course I remembered him, how
could I forget that song and the association. I told the
Chinese lad to keep up with the English and do Law at
Uni. I was working at a law firm at the time.
A way a woman dresses has a lot of power over a man, it
leads to the power of love. The way a man dresses has
power over a woman, a fireman for example. The way a man
undresses has power over a woman too, the Chippendales
or The Full Monty…..
But back to words, if they are not matched by action then
they are like steam coming off a coffee on a train, just
evaporating into nothingness. A few simple words with
action attached is better than a hurricane for blowing
inaction away. My last uncle died recently and after the
funeral his son in law said “He didn’t say much but when
he did it was worth listening to.” He was a quiet man,
but he was loved so much, and his words were worth their
weight in gold.
55
17. Cobwebs of Love
Kids need good parents, friends we choose for ourselves,
your families you get anyway. I'm lucky I had great
parents. Faith does help, but kids get bigger and decide
for themselves if their parents were talking rubbish or
were worth listening too. Kids travel and find their own
way home to their faith and their families. Elastic is
very important in relationships and faith. If you try to
keep things set in stone then you will be in for a fall.
Nothing is set in stone, friendships change and alter and
our own understandings change and alter. Have a bit of
elastic in your life is my best advice. You are not in an
army and getting up at 5am and doing all the marching and
so forth. Yes have discipline and rules, but be aware IF
you force somebody to do something when they have the
chance to rebel then they will. You cannot chain anybody
to you or your faith, brainwashing is a bad idea, listen
to the Genesis song Jesus we know him.......So you bind
your family and friends and faith to you by cobwebs of
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love and nothing stronger than cobwebs of love. Love
should be like that its a cobweb of love, also be happy
to have a Prodigal Son in your life, happy because you
will always welcome them back. If you're lucky you'll
never have any Prodigal sons in your life but I already
tell my kids I'll always love them and they can always
come home, leave your doors open with cobwebs of love
waiting there
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18.The Bicycle Removal Firm ©
By
Michael Casey
Today's blog is
inspired by what I saw through the window. And what did I
see? Well you may have all seen The Quiet Man with John
Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. In it a spare bike is “carried”
by somebody already riding one. It no doubt takes great
skill.
It wasn't that I saw but something much more intriguing,
I say a man on a bike carrying a mirror under his arm.
Not the newspaper, but a real mirror, a 3.5foot one
under his right arm. He also had it mirror side out, so
no doubt several car drivers would have been dazzled.
Later on as I sat here at the computer I saw him again,
this time he had an ironing board under his arm, at least
the legs weren't sticking out. He just pedalled past. I
was wondering what would happened next. I was thinking it
was nearly time to collect the girls from school when he
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came walking past carrying a heavy bundle on his
shoulder.
As we walked home I told my girls what I'd noticed, I
always try and teach them to be observant, such as seeing
the new trendy sign over the help the aged charity shop
today. And as we walked home why the policeman had got
out of the panda car near the bank, to go to the cash
point and then go to Subway for his sandwich.
I explained to my girls that the man on the bike must
be moving house, but he didn't have a car so he was DIY
moving with the aid of a bike. My mother once put on all
her clothes and then walked home to Cromane Kerry because
she had no suitcase so she wore everything. Her mum had
belted her for her stupidity, this would be in the 1930s.
I encouraged my daughter to use the bike man as a story
for her next English lesson, she said it was not her
style. Then as we closed the front door, who did we see?
The man on his bike with a mixing desk under his arm, my
daughter laughed, but her little sister had the last
laugh, she'd found the chocolate biscuits.
So what can I say, I hope that if ever we move house, if
ever I sell my 3 books then I hope we can at least have a
van to transport our things. Or perhaps I could self
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upgrade from a bicycle removal service to a bus removal
service, I do have a bus pass after all.
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
19. What is Prayer ? What is Love? ©
By
Michael Casey
What is Faith? We are told in one Bible passage that if a
man can do many things yet there is no Love then man has
achieved nothing. I remember this being read at grammar
school at the morning assembly. . Sorry if I cannot quote
it verbatim. I'd come home from work and my dad would be
sitting down in the living room his dinner on a chair so
he could watch the news, he'd have the first bite raised
to his mouth. I'm not hungry he'd say and offer me his
dinner. This is love. Another time, another shift
pattern. I'd come home at 11p. Dad would wait up to see
me before he'd go to bed, he'd be up at 5am for his work
the next morning. This is the standard I'm used to, I'll
do the same for my own children. Its normal, it’s
obvious. To me anyway. My mother used to watch Dallas on
tv after she'd fed all her children, one hand in her
apron as she watched tv. Only the hand always jumped in
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her pocket, she was saying the rosary while she watched
tv. Very Irish, very motherly. Very normal, the standard I
got used to. Countless mothers the world over do the
same. They may be Christians, they may be of a multitude
of different Faiths, yet one thing in common. Love, love
of God, love of family, love of children . And do we
thank our parents for this love? If we didn't and now our
parents our gone, then do we live with regret all our
lives . No, this would be folly. We can thank our parents
and our God by being good parents, by trying to copy the
good example shown to us . I met my wife in the
retirement home where my dad lived after his near fatal
heart attack, which happened 8 bare weeks after my mother
died in her sleep. My dad lived long enough for me to
meet/marry and have a granddaughter. As I gaze on my
daughter's face I often say "thank you". Thank You to God
for allowing me a wife and for having a daughter. An
extremely beautiful daughter, healthy and funny. I have to
show the moon to my daughter because she thinks it’s so
pretty, she loves stars too , not yet 22months old and
she knows the wonder of creation . As I look upwards and
see the cold beauty of space I know how lucky I am. I
know how lucky I am. Lucky enough to cry, which I do on
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occasions. My tears are my humble thanks and praise of
God. I have a family. July 96, mom was gone 2 months, and
dad was now given 1 week to live. So after 3years of
constant visits to the seniors home I met my wife, my
Shanghai China. So yes I cry in the dark of the night as
I look up at the stars . I am a lucky man, because I had
good parents, I know I did . I hope everybody could be as
lucky as me .....
well I hope this reads ok , I couldn't think of any
poetry , I just hope telling it plain catches the spirit
, the spirit of love . One word, one look, one sigh, one
flicker of the eyes, each of these is a prayer, a deep
prayer . A prayer of hope, pray, hope and don't worry is
a motto I try to live by that’s all the advice I can give
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20. My New Computer Part 2
A new home computer is an event. You think how quick it
will be. You prepare by backing up your files, but you
have so many of them. Then you have email accounts and
favourite sites and so forth. You think you've thought of
everything but you haven't. BUT you do have a safety net,
you've emailed your important files to yourself, in fact
you have a couple of email accounts so your stuff can be
safe. Only you forget the passwords.
I'm sure we've all done it. Luckily the nice folks at
Google can help. But then there is GMX can they fix it
too?
Then you get 60 day trial of software from Norton which
features an online backup, so your files are safe on a
server in the USA.
So I had loaded our family photos to the new PC and then
deleted them from the memory stick thing.
So that was ok, only I then lost them from the new PC. So
I have to rely on Norton, only there's a glitch, I can
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see my files on their Server but I cannot restore them
to my PC. It may just be I need to click somewhere I
cannot see. So I send an email to Norton, that’s a couple
of hours ago, but I'm sure those guys are just as nice
as Google.
Have I learnt my lesson. Yes, buy 2 memory sticks and
don't delete anything.
Footnote I first used a computer back in 1978, DEC PDP
1170s but then computers were as big as washing machines
and dealt in megabites and tape decks were as big as
wardrobes.
p.s. Windows7 is fab and the lads at Comet are very very
professional
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21. How to Teach a Nine Year Old Long Division ©
By
Michael Casey
Well my daughter only has 2 more years in primary school,
year 5 is what they call it. So my Shanghai wife is
pushing her to learn maths, 11plus beckons next year.
I remember I was called the "Ready Reckoner" by the lady
in the butcher’s shop, Marsh and Baxters. The shop had a
variety of changes over the past 45 years but now it is
once more a butchers, a halal one. I was 8 or younger at
the time me and my mum would go to the butchers and buy
the meat for the 8 of us, sawdust was on the floor in
those days. The lady in the shop would write down all the
separate items on a piece of paper using her pencil. Then
she’d try to add them up, remember it was pounds
shillings and pence in those days. 12 pence to a
shilling, and 20 shilling to the pound, 240 pence in one
pound. If you did not know your 12 times tables then
you’d be lost. Mr Gallagher my old school teacher
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threatened us for months with a times table test. He
sprung it on us and the result was 4 of the best, a pump
on my bum. The next time he tested us I was perfect. So
with a stinging bum as a reminder I was red hot as far at
times tables and sums were concerned. Hence I was the
ready reckoner
We always paid the right price for our meat, the tills
were huge monsters in those days with big symbols
appearing in a glass window, watch Ronnie Barker in Open
All Hours and you’ll see one.
Now how do you teach division to a 9 year old. Well my
wife starts in Shanghai dialect, then I interrupt in
English giving a metaphor or two, upside down stair is
how I explain. Then we jump on Utube and you get lessons
galore, 360 maths lessons is what I hear. Though its
American so is Math lessons, I was boasting as they
explained long division that I had shown our daughter the
correct way, but Utube had another set in the upside down
steps, by basically I was right. I then reassured our
daughter if she did 100 examples then she’d get it. If
you know how to multiply then you know how to divide.
More encouragement is given in Shanghai dialect. As for
our daughter she heads for her room and Galaxy on her DAB
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radio, perhaps if she counts the stars in the Galaxy then
she’ll have her head for maths.
22. Mickey Mouse Degrees
Three of my family went to University, and it was called
University then not Uni. They worked very hard to get
there. Me I went to work and later discovered the OU,
after I discovered I could write.
I also spent 3years
at a 4star deluxe business hotel. So I’m thinking should
I set myself up as a tutor and teach “Car park cleaning
and security patrolling a combined course” or “Concierge
skills with smile techniques” or “Housekeeping with
combined Laundry services” “Reception skills with added
Switchboard techniques”. I was a close runner up as
Employee Of The Year so I could charge more. Perhaps I
could teach “Acceptance of Rejection, a multi discipline
course for Writers and Playwright and Poets”
I’d just love for somebody to take me under their wing
and give me a grant, I’ve written a comic novel The
Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, I’ve written a play
that will be a hit, Shoplife is its name and its very
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topical, its about a store about to close. I’ve got
another book called Essays and Plays which is just that.
Finally Tears For A Butcher is my 3rd book which I'm
still writing. I did try and get a grant from the
Rockefeller Foundation but no joy, perhaps I’m too old or
too working class. Perhaps I should try Getty Foundation,
who knows, I do know my play Shoplife could be turned on
its head to teach Customer Service, all I need is a
Dragon, I did try that too but no luck.
Perhaps I should go on the X files and read a few poems
or speed read from my book, like the Reduced Shakespeare
Company. I did meet thousands of people while I worked at
a hotel and many were amused by my Tales. Tales from Old
Forge and Singing Anvil www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com is
where my stuff lives in cyber space. I am no Blacksmith
like my father but I always followed his maxim “Do what
you like, BUT do your best.”
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23. My Mouse is drunk ©
By
Michael Casey
Well my mouse is drunk, I did see the warning signs and I
hoped and prayed that it would get back to the straight
and narrow, but it did not. The mouse is a drunkard and
that’s all there is to it, its not that I live in a
windmill with the sails producing electricity for our
home our windmill home. It would have been just fine if
the mouse wore clogs and did a bit of break dancing.
Living in a windmill would be fun too.
I am of course talking about a computer mouse, not any
Nick Park creation. Our computer was waving goodbye as
you can see by my previous post, but now the mouse was
joining the strike in sympathy, all for one and one for
all.
Can you remember the last time you were on a double
decker bus up stairs and drunk?I can remember being on
the Metro in Paris Feb 1998 drunk and very happy, but
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that’s another story. So picture that in your mind and
that’s just how my mouse is behaving. Scrolling and
jumping and highlighting galore, could be like a scene
from an old film, Easy Rider perhaps, and yes I remember
seeing that at the cinema, 2pound a week pocket money so
I could go to the cinema at the Grove. You think you can
master a silly little mouse but you cannot, it’s like a
jockey verses a giant, the jockey is wiry and nimble so
its very hard to catch him and lay a punch on him.
Exactly how it is between me and my mouse. I was trying
to do a few things before the new needed replacement
computer arrived, but it was a battle of wills and the
mouse, the computer mouse was winning. I need to renew
my house insurance so I thought I could do this online. I
had rung up my existing insurance company and they
immediately offered a 40% discount! But it was still
cheaper to change so I had been looking online, but with
the mouse playing up it was like being in an Irish Pub on
Saint Patrick’s day, one giant jelly mass of people, me
and the mouse were just like that. Finally I had to give
up I was getting seasick. 4 of us use this computer and
the mouse has been battered for years, so now it was time
to put it out of its misery, the only decision was
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whether to bury the mouse in an old shoe box or just cut
off its tale and give it to the with. kids to play
24. We are having a baby ©
By
Michael Casey
We are having a baby, after much though and heartache we
have decided to have a baby, it will be our 3rd. Now in
Google search that’ll be condensed so everybody will be
mislead until they click and read the full version. Yes
we are having a baby, and yes it will be our 3rd, but not
a baby baby, which would indeed be our 3rd. No we are not
trying for a boy after having two girls, we are just
having a 3rd baby, I mentioned it to my eldest daughter
on my way back with a coffee in my hand, she said it
wouldn’t be a 3rd baby, it would be a 4th baby, or even a
5th baby. You see we had a new Tv after ours gave up the
ghost after 16 years, so the new Toshiba was a baby, and
our new noisy whistling kettle was a baby too. What I’m
really saying is that our computer has reached the age
when it should be replaced. The baby I’m on about is a
new Emachine computer, a baby computer because it should
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be so much smaller than the original one from over 7
years ago. Best of all it was on offer, 200 off. If it
wasn’t on offer it would have stayed in the shop, but we
really need our computer so thankfully a cheap one has
popped up to save the day.
As for our current Emachine that’ll find a new home with
somebody who had our last old baby, a tradition is
forming, he has our old cache which saves him cash. Its
nice if you can recycle things, and I’m sure our friend
will spruce it up to make it better than we had it. I
know somebody who has a computer who has never done a
disc cleanup, but that’s another story. As for us I now
have to backup our old files, can you imagine how many
1000 photos you take when you have a young children; you
have to send them to grandma in Shanghai and friends in
Toyko and Taiwan and Singapore, and the most exotic
Stourbridge and Reading and Frankfurt. You do have some
on the family website but now as change is in the air you
must backup everything, you cannot lose your children’s
childhood snaps.
Yesterday I looked at USB sticks they can be pretty
expensive, finally I worked out how much stuff we just
had to backup and move. Play.com turned out to have the
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best offer for 16gig flash security. Lets hope it’s a
simple as I think it is to back things up, I have 14gig
of stuff to backup. As you can imagine I have to keep my
other babies safe, my stories my writing, which are
dreams in themselves. I had them on floppy discs
scattered all around my house. I do have my site
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com so my “masterpieces” will
survive fire and floor and even nuclear war as the are on
a server on a different continent. However I still need
them on my new baby computer my new Emachine, so my 16gig
flash storage will have a mission. There is one thing to
remember though I remember somebody saying if you don’t
dismount/unload you media properly then you lose what’s
on the flash media. Well I’ll find out about that soon
enough, Wednesday will be my security day.
Then once everything is safely loaded I can breath a sigh
of relief. But what else do you have to do once you have
your new baby, your new computer. Get connected to the
Internet, without being swamped by viruses because you
forgot to get an anti virus program. Set up accounts on
the computer, I have my side and my wife has her side.
With a Shanghai wife though I get stray Chinese
characters appearing on our current computer, and strange
73
things have happened. So I need to keep a clear head
while I get things as I want them to be, however give it
a fortnight and China will have invaded my side of the
computer and stolen all the duvet. I still dream of
having my books in Waterstones and sold as Ebooks for all
these new devices, but most of all I want a computer just
for me!
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25.Where do the tears go when they are shed©
By
Michael Casey
Where do the tears go when they are shed While I lie here
crying on my bed Do the tears drip drip away and seep
thoughThe floorboards and head for the sea. Do my tears
join an ocean that rises and falls Do the tears yell and
scream but only sea farers Hear them, do whales moan as
they crash through them Only whales know of my distress as
my tears groan In deep deep oceans in the unknown dark
deep seas.
Do my tears head north to the North Pole and Santa Does
Santa Ho Ho Ho so much because he is trying to drown
Out The cries and sobs and tears held back for so many
years. Do tears form ice shelves and become icebergs,
silent and majestic Like giant cathedrals of ice. Is this
the way to silent the voice of tears. Frozen in Time for
100s of years, the fears of today and yesterday are
Merged As one, gagged for eternity in an ice
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cathedral. Will everything be forgot, deep freezed, quick
frozen like garden peas.
Do my tears evaporate and head for the sky, joining the
clouds as they pass by. Are my tears blown this way and
that, are they taken far away over the ocean. As planes
pass through the clouds that are my tears, can the
passengers hear Can the passengers hear my tears, all my
hopes and fears, or are my tears Drowned out by the in
flight movie, 007 killing my prayers to heaven.
Do my tears wash away my pain, my guilt, are they like
mothers’ milk? For tears touch us all, they are like a
morning mist that shrouds us. For tears are the dark dark
night of the soul, a cold coat that covers us. In the
morning we remember we fell asleep crying, but what of
now? Now we’ve looked at our dead mum’s photo and think of
what she would have said. We smile as we remember, her
fight, her love, her spirit, her smile. But never tears,
she shed no tears for us, she shed no tears for us. Tears
will come, tears will come again, but they are just
water, we are stronger Than mere water, we have a boat and
that boat is Love.
****Well I dug this out from my PC I wrote it a year
ago...Michael
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26. From A to B or From Sat Nav to Blocked Sink
By Michael Casey
Well I hope you are all fine this morning. For us the Sat
Nav debate continues.
In the old days a Black Taxi would not be seen using an
AtoZ, it was beneath his dignity. He'd done the Knowledge
and it was all up there in his head. Jack Rozenthal wrote
a great play about it, was it 30years ago? Maureen Lipman
was his real wife.
Delivery drivers have and egg and bacon butty in one hand
dripping egg on to the AtoZ in their other hand while
they try and deliver a chest of drawers, with 5 days
growth of beard for good measure.
Bus drivers know their route, so once they've done it a
while its automatic, they know what they are doing. All
they have to do is put up with kids trying to use a 3 day
old ticket, and not get too high from all the cannabis on
the bus. Or remember when they have switched routes
because that can lead to strange directions.
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Door to door salesmen all those years ago, with the rap
at tat tat on the back door had their route carrying the
suitcase with samples in. I can vaguely remember one at
our back door did my mum buy a clothes brush? But that
must be 45 years ago.
So basically we all know what we want and where we are
going. Going further back they say people only knew a
six block radius around their home. Going to War changed
all that as did radio and then more importantly tv. Tv
being our eyes on the world, previous to that only
Merchant Seaman knew of the world. My own granddad was a
merchant seaman, I sometimes wonder did he ever get to
Shanghai
Or was it me, his grandson who got there first. Had he
visited at the turn of the 19th/20th Century 100years and
more ago.
Which brings us back to Sat Nav. Me I use a bus which is
fine apart from the pot heads who sit next to you on the
bus and all I want to do is puke. My wife is a car
driver, so she and our girls love the car. But my wife
has borrowed a Sat Nav and likes the ease of it so now
she wants one of her own. The result is that I’m being
nagged to provide one. You pay, me pay, yes you pay, why
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me pay, because you are the husband so you pay, no way me
pay, you pay you pay yourself, I say. And on the ding
dong, sing song goes. Which is the fun part. Me I no pay,
use computer I say. You can get perfect directions off
the computer all you then have to do is print them off,
if our printer was still working we’d be doing that. So
really all the wife has to do is copy them down, in
English.
She’s busy with the wok as I talk to you, she’s
compromised now, she only wants me to pay half. So I say
I’ll be doubly generous and double the share I won’t pay,
I’ll pay zero and she can pay 100%. That’s the true
spirit of negotiation, now I have another thing to
resolve, she’s blocked the sink, so pardon me now as I
take the plunge, or rather take the plunger to the sink,
no need to use a Sat Nav to get there, its over my
shoulder in the next room, just turn left at the tv and
go straight on to the sound of bubbles. Love is
everywhere don’t you know it, just find it, no Sat Nav
required.
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27.Read My Mind ©
By
Michael Casey
I just read in the Sunday paper that soon they’ll be able
to read my mind, everybody’s mind. A computer firm is
scanning brains so that in future you can control your
computer with just a thought.
“Where do you do to my lovely when you’re alone and in
your bed, tell me the thoughts that surround you” as
Peter Sarstead sung in the old and very good song.*
Now the song was a great song, perhaps they’ll play it on
Magic again soon.
But our thoughts are private like the sunglasses of our
mind. They ring fence our brain and keep strangers out,
they hide our boredom when at Company events, the same
speech and the same director laughing at his own jokes
while as one we all think “what a plonker”. A whole hall
wishing he’d stop so we could get on with the
entertainment, free bar and circus.
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Politicians lie, we all think they do, and if we could
read their minds we’d all throw cabbages at them, or eggs
or just manifestos. We heard what Gordon really though of
that lady and it helped lose the Election for him. Then
the apology shambles, you can’t take back something like
that. If somebody could read Gordon’s mind they would
have dived in to save him before he even said it.
Politicians need to be clear but they never are. Why have
clarity when you can have deniability. Let’s just wish
Gordon a good relaxing next 5 years.
But what of you and what of me. You see a girl, you see a
boy, you’ve got your shades on, you take a good hard
look, the object of your attention cannot see your eyes,
you try and look cool and not move your head an inch. But
you lust after him, you lust after her. Choose your own
words as to what you are thinking, or are you lusting.
Well they’ll never know because they cannot read your
mind. But if they could, they’d be a few slapped faces
that’s for sure. Or they’d be a few sudden snogs in
doorways and in bus shelters or on the top decks of
buses. And all because we can read each other’s minds.
Perhaps in the future the gismo to read minds would be
attached to your shades, so you’d look cool while they
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drool.
What about your mum if she could read your mind? She’d be
sending you to bed without supper, she’d scream and shout
“get out of my house.”
What about old gran and granddad, they’d know what you
really think of them. Do you love them or are you just
playing along to get their money when they die.
Reading Minds is a dangerous thing, we need protection
from ourselves, a stray spoken word can hurt, but
luckily our words are locked up in our minds and they can
be chosen and picked and used with caution. But if they
were there all naked in front of us, no nuances, no
clarification then we’d all be in big trouble. I believe
we think
4 times faster than we speak, but speech is our filter
so that we DO pick the right words, we don’t say the
wrong thing. Reading Minds can be dangerous, yes it would
be great if you could walk down the road and have all the
girls dreaming of you, but what if you were walking down
the road and you could heard everybody’s inner voice
saying I hate you. What You Don’t Know Cann’t Hurt You,
so as far as I’m concerned I’ll Fortune Telling to
Gypsies.
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*Peter Sarstead copyright
28.My Daddy’s like Google he knows everything ©
By Michael Casey
My kids were in London today for a day out with my wife
and one of her friends. Me I stayed home I’d picked up
some bug last night , so I nursed my bug.
The girls were all excited when they came home and my
smallest one was telling a story. It began with a box
fell from the sky, but it was no ordinary box, it was a
magic box. So I told her to keep the idea in her head
and she could write it out in the morning, it was late
now. Her bigger sister observed that when she wrote she
wrote all posh, but when she talked she did not. I then
tried to explain the difference between :- speaking,
writing, presenting, teaching. Some people may be able to
do one but this does not prove/equate to being able to do
another. Then my smallest let loose with the line that I
was Google and should be a teacher and that I should
write kids books. I’ll do anything IF somebody sponsors
me, or becomes my patron, though in my case it would be
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Saint Rita or Saint Jude themselves who’d help. Thinking
back to 1969 I did win a Junior Free Handwriting
Competition, I have the certificate somewhere, Brook Bond
sponsored it, I’d forgotten about it till just now.
Daddy, any daddy has to try and be an encyclopaedia to
give his kids some information, in some SciFi film or it
may have been in Dr Who I saw a battered Robot became the
teacher, with holograms too. If only I could be some sort
of magician, then that would be swell as the Americans
say, card tricks with lessons on, sleight of hand passing
messages of learning. I am award that I have to try hard
and give good information out, otherwise 1984 becomes a
reality, rubbish becomes fact, and facts become rubbish.
There are more questions than answers, luckily I’m very
eclectic so I can give a base camp answer, then watch as
their minds click and you can see from their expression,
from the look in their eyes that they understand and they
can begin to work things out for themselves or just have
a look online. The main thing though is that Daddy, this
daddy, me, encourages his girls to use their brains.
The cobwebs may grow IF I didn’t have children asking
this and asking that. In a couple of years time my
biggest daughter can read my book, it’s a 12 certificate
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so although she’s seen it she’ll just have to wait for
the dubious honour of reading daddy’s The Butcher The
Baker and The Undertaker.
29. Its Just got to be Winnie The Pooh
Its Just Got to be Winnie The Pooh. My youngest daughter
just loves Winnie The Pooh, my wife thinks it’s because I
look like Winnie The Pooh, judge for yourselves.
We have a collection of soft toys tidied away behind the
settee, about 40 I think. Every now and then my small
daughter lines them up in rows and she's the teacher.
Winnie The Pooh is always 1st in the queue. Then she
takes the register and tells the toys to pay attention.
Then she reads to them, everything is done in an orderly
way. I think she'll end up a scientist as she's so
organised, my wife did Science back in Shanghai, so its
in the genes. Her Chinese grandfather did a bit of
writing too, as did her Chinese great uncle, and then
there is me www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com , so writing
is in the blood too. Does anybody remember Abbott the
Physics text book? That just sprung to mind, we were told
to read it cover to cover, my brother actually did do
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that.
So back to Winnie The Pooh, I'm being told that she wants
a Winnie The Pooh lunchbox, she just saw it in the Netto
leaflet that came through our door. Then another leaflet
had a Winnie The Pooh duvet and duvet cover. I did buy
her a Winnie The Pooh blow up cushion but that delevoped
a slow leak, so I stuffed Winnie the Pooh with a few old
pillows, and she was able to continue sitting on it. We
have Winnie The Pooh dvds and some old VHS tapes too, and
a few days ago we bought her a Winnie The Pooh cutlery
set along with a face cloth. So thats just the tip of a
big iceberg, she has a white Tigger thats not really
Tigger but he does look like a very very pale snow
Tigger. When she grows up we will tease her about this.
But I know one day a chubby cuddly man will ask my
permission to marry her, perhaps his name will be
Christopher Robin.
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30. The Best Years Of Our Lives ©
By Michael Casey
They say that the best years of our lives are our
schooldays. Maybe its true, but we are all too busy doing
the homework, or suffering Latin homework. I can vouch
for Latin in Grammar school, it’s a form of torture, but
it does help your vocabulary, and it does make you
perservere.
I suppose Uni is the best days of your lives too, until
you get the bill. And realise that nobody rates a degree
any more because everybody has one so the currency is
devalued. 3 years experience doing something while you
did you degree in film studies. So the experienced one
gets the job.
Getting married and setting up home, are they the best
years of our lives? Then the first baby and the lack of
sleep, learning to catch and throw dirty nappies out the
house, just like a wicket keeper.
Finally getting your book published. Getting a few plays
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on the stage, having a column in The Sun and The
Telegraph, would these be the best days of our lives.
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Or is it the old days, when your life is in part 2, when
the grave can be seen in the distance, it may be 50years
away but you’ve have the 1st 50 years so you are on the
slide to the grave. With experience and love your view of
life has changed, you have a young family, but you know
how to love them. You can feel it in the air, you can see
it in the garden, you can hear the children’s laughter,
you can enjoy a glass or two, but you are at Peace,
that’s when you have reached The Best Days Of Your Life.
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31. Let My Tears Be My Words (c)
by Michael Casey
Let There Be Light ©
By Michael Casey
Let my tears be my words
Let the candle light be my eyes
Let the flowers in bloom be my lips
Let their scent be my blood
Let the wind be my breath
Let clouds be my mood
Let children’s laughter be my hope
Let widows’ sighs be my conscience
Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight
Let the bees be my wisdom
Let the trees be my strength
Let my patience reach to the stars
Let me be always remembered in your prayers
End
p.s.
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**** I hope you enjoy my poetry, there's more at
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Poems are like butterflies there appear from nowhere and
flutter by, we are amazed by their beauty then they are
gone. This one came to me about 2 years ago when I was
hiding in St Phillips cathedral during my lunch break. I
got the 1st couple of lines. Once home I sat in my old
big blue chair in front of the computer and then worked
out the rest. You can see a photo on my site. I have now
updated the old chair, all I need is a new computer.
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32. The Lambs have gone its Silent ©
By Michael Casey
The Lambs have gone its Silent, my girls are in London
today, my wife took them there. So I'm home alone, and
its so silent.
"Dad, what does xyz mean" asks my big daughter, but she's
not here,
I explain and tell her to use one of the dictionaries we
have. I want her to be able to find out answers herself.
When you explain things you find that you try and be so
exact so that you don't confuse your kids. It probably
makes me think more clearly too.
This morning my smallest girl put a Tamagatu purple cat
on the desk, she said it would keep me company while they
were away. Its still on the desk besides me as I talk to
you. My old copy of Don Camillo's Dilemma is there too,
I've read 50pages just 200 more to go, then its Don
Camillo meets the Hells Angels, then I'm done, 6 books
all about a Catholic priest and a Communist Lord Mayor.
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The stories were 1st written over 50 years ago, I know no
Italian so I read them in English translation. I was
actually going to learn Italian several years ago, only I
got distracted by this Shanghai girl, I married her, you
can see some photos of us all on this site, we were at a
wedding a few days ago. I'm the George Clooney look alike
in the photos, though my hair looks as though I've washed
it in DAZ. Our 2 girls are there too, along with the
wife, not forgetting the Bride and Groom. As for Italian,
I put the books in an old holdall and put that under my
bed, years later my nephew was learning Italian, so I
donated everything to him.
You could hear a pin drop in the house, its so silent,
and yes I hate it. All I have is the pain from tearing
down the fence, its sharp and makes me wince a bit, but
aren't we all stupid sometimes, or is it just me who's
cornered the market. I look to my right and can hear the
clock ticking, its a battery powered but still I can hear
it. No small girls running about in the room above me. No
Blick DAB radio blaring out Galaxy on their radio above.
The clock in the living room strikes nine, my girls
should be getting on the train home now. London Euston to
Birmingham, 28pounds for the 3 of them with Virgin
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trains, see the offers for yourself. I can hear the
boiler click into action, heating the water for baths on
their return. The computer hums in front of me, just by
my knee. I hope I win the HP Envy 17 laptop in this weeks
Sun's competitions, our computer is 7 years old and
freezes a lot. The irony is I joined the MySUN site so I
could enter the competitions, and then I stumbled into
putting my blogs here on MySun. The sound of the keyboard
echoes around our empty house.
I jump in my seat, the telephone has just exploded, my
wife has just rung to say they missed the train. Only she
was teasing, I can hear our kids in the background on the
train. So all is well, but too too quiet. I know one
thing I could never live alone. Tomorrow the kids will
want Tux Paint on the computer, or want to use the
Graphic Tablet on the computer. There will be noise
galore, a family noise, the noise I prayed for all those
years ago.
Cheerio from Birmingham and London Euston
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
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33. Take my Fence Away ©
By
Michael Casey
Well just for something different today I took my fence
away. The day had started noisily when a courier nearly
knocked my door down, and it wasn’t even my parcel. So
wishing him well I closed my door. Half an hour later a
polite knocker knocked at my door. “Sorry for disturbing
you” he began “yes you are disturbing me” I finished as I
closed the door. I don’t know about you but I just wish
cold callers didn’t bother. Or they all got a disease and
took the Junk Email writers with them, a kind of modern
plague, where the skeletons decayed over computers. But
perhaps I’m being too mean today.
As for my fence, we have a rickety old one on one side
next to the entry, its parallel supports with boards
nailed alternately on the inside and on the outside.
However with age it’s developed a stoop, or backward
lunge, a kind of limbo dancing look.The alley is kind of
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blocked because of this, but nobody uses it but me,
however I decided it was getting dangerous, so the fence
had to go. Just in case. So I leant on the fence and it
creaked and groaned, not unless that was my back. 3
sections gave way, the supporting posts had had it for
years. Then all I had to do was saw the last bit away.
Only I don’t have a saw, but I do have a metal saw ,or
rather just the blade which was part of the tools I
inherited 30 years ago. They gather dust mainly as I am
not a DIY kind of person. I can work out what needs to be
done, but as for doing it, I leave that to the experts. I
once tried painting a wall, only it took gallons of
paint, the wall was covered in a wallpaper that was just
like carpet, so it just soaked up the paint, a bit like
painting a bear I suppose, not that I’ve ever tried
painting a bear.
But back to the fence, finally I’d sawn away the last
support and I had a kind of wooden ladder in my entry.
All I had to do was heave it to the rubbish area at the
bottom of my garden. I had to jump up and down to break
it up, I had to be very careful too as there were 6 inch
nails all over it. Rusty nails but still dangerous, apart
from the one I nearly stabbed my chest with, everybody
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must have done similar such things. Did I ever tell you
when I painted my bathroom. It’s on my site
somewhere www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
Michael’s Bathroom.
But back to the fence, I was triumphant when I
was finished, then the washing line broke, my bright
orange Polo top with a polo scene on it went sailing to
the ground along with my jeans. Another task for me.
Over the road in the hardware store I got a plastic
washing line, £4.50 I was robbed. I also bought some green
twine, £1.60, I had an idea you see. Once home I got my
biggest daughter to hold the end while I tied it to the
tree and then to the peg in the wall. I didn’t realise
just how long 20m is, so I was able to have 2 new plastic
washing lines. This is good in the long run as I live
with 3 girls, if only I had another bathroom, but I need
a lottery win before that happens, or Rupert Murdoch sees
this and gives me a job. Hold on a second while I watch a
pig fly past.
So now I had a new washing line, all I needed was a new
fence. That’s where the twine comes in. I called my girls
outside, together we ran up and down the yard tying the
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twine to what was left of the supporting posts. A kind of
net, a bit like the net at Wimbledon was formed. Straight
lines then vertical lines in between, plus some coloured
paper to make it more attractive. My big daughter has
done crochet at school so she was well pleased with her
efforts. My wife said it looked like prison bars but she
just has no imagination said me and the girls. We hope
small birds will rest on the top line and sing to us. It
was a fun hour or so, apart from the twinge in my back,
the fence was heavy after all. I forgot one thing, I
wanted to teach the girls about Gravity, so I shook the
Apple Tree at the bottom of the garden and they watched
the apples fall, Newton remembered. Then they gathered a
few apples and pretended to cook them, the apples were
bobbing in a container, Archimedes came to mind so I
mentioned him to them. All in all an educational Summers
Day.
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34. So hypnotize me©
By Michael Casey
So hypnotize me
I was just picking up the kids from the school on the
hill, I overheard a mum saying that her son was thinking
of doing Hypnotism as a subject for part of his
University course. It made me think about what kind of
world we’d be if we could use hypnotism to iron out the
rough spots. If we could use it to make us all shiny and
new all the time. It made me think of Sci fi films, from
Logan’s Run to Matrix, the perfect world.
So what if it was just weight loss, or fear of animals
that was hypnotized away. You used to be able to listen
to a tape while you slept and then hey presto in the
morning you could speak Chinese. That’d be good in our
house as my wife is a Shanghai girl and our girls speak
Chinese with her while I’m trying to write here at the
computer.
Learning piano via hypnotism would be good too, my small
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daughter is now trying out the guitar after playing on
the piano for 30mins. We saved up for years to buy the
piano and then my brother gave us a child size guitar
which he’d picked up cheap in The Works. My girl is
making up a song now behind me as I talk to you, its hard
trying to type when you’re trying not to laugh, try it
for yourself.
Now hypnotists use a watch to hypnotize, so that’d
interest me straight away, just the watch. I have a
Russian KGB officer automatic at present, if you’re read
The Watch and Me you’ll know about me and watches. When I
have some money I hope to buy an Oris watch, but it will
have to be a strong one. So there I am being hypnotized
to learn after dinner speaking, I’d really love to get on
that circuit, however I don’t know any Freemasons. I’m
being hypnotized when I realize the hypnotist has a
lovely Omega, so what happens. My love of watches
overrules the hypnotist, I escape with his Omega and the
hypnotist is found staring at the clock at New Street
Station, he’s mumbling just look into my eyes, look into
my eyes. I’m sent back to the hypnotist, he’s very
famous, he has a Cartier Bleu watch, he just gives it to
me, everything becomes a blur.In the morning I wake up in
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bed speaking Chinese and giving an after dinner speech,
on one wrist is an Omega, on the other is a Cartier Bleu.
As for the hypnotist he’s found on the no8 bus going
around and around Birmingham, on his wrist is my Russian
KGB officer watch, and guess what, he’s speaking Russian.
Das Vidanya Everybody, Michael
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com
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35. Pizza and Rice©
Pizza and Rice
I wouldn’t say I have a love affair with frozen food, say
pizza, nor that I like my bacon sandwiches so much. Its
just that I used to work such odd hours. Getting home at
9pm doesn’t encourage you to get Delia’s book out and be
creative. You just want something quick, as its 6 hours
or so since your late lunch at 3pm. It may even be nearly
10pm when you get home, after doing a work favour for
somebody. So now your stomach does think that your throat
has been cut, it rumbles away as you sit on the bus,
other passengers think its the deep base of somebody’s
personal stereo. Once home its flick Sky on grab dinner
from the freezer, in 10 minutes time the dinnertime Pizza
is ready, washed down by two mugs of milky coffee. If
Delia has got 1/2 a page left to fill she could just
squeeze it into one of her books.
Time moves on and I’m married and we have two little
girls. Rice is on the menu daily, you need a degree in
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Oriental Languages to know what’s in the fridge. I have a
Shanghai wife who really can cook. Chopsticks make an
appearance, as does the spoon shovelling techniques for
eating. I can come home to find movement in the kitchen
sink, its alive and will soon be dinner, its a crab. Fish
is being cooked too, the rice cooker is on, you would not
believe just how fluffy and nice rice can be. Before
Shanghai, I’d have scoffed at the idea of rice being so
different, Ambrosia creamed rice from a tin was the
height of my experience, now I scoff nice rice. My wife
goes to the Korean shop to buy the rice as it tastes so
good. We are lucky we have a huge Ying Yip down the road
a few miles too. Once dinner is ready there are 3 or 5
dishes on the table, Phoenix is of the TV too. I think my
wife only came around to my house in the first place all
those years ago because I had Chinese tv, either that or
she really loved my frozen pizza. Occasionally there are
prawn crackers on offer, you really have to be quick to
make these or you’ll burn them and yourself.
My dad used to have a bowl of corn flakes as a snack
before bedtime if he was peckish, I do the same. Cereals
tend to be my breakfast too as they are so quick and easy
to make, well they make themselves. My wife likes snacks
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too, but they can seem tasteless to a Western tongue.
However biscuits and cakes from Sainsbury’s are a delight
for her, if I search hard enough I can find them, our
girls love them too. You have to understand if you follow
the Eastern diet then you are very slim, both of my girls
are slim and tall, so to fall of the Eastern diet is a
treat. Going to the chip shop for them is a bit of a
wonder, they get “takeaway” every day at home, so chips
is a treat. As for me my diet has improved as I have the
left overs, though I still weigh 3 times more than my
size 0 wife. As for me and Delia, we do have one thing in
common, and I don’t mean our love of food, Delia and Me
are catholics.
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36. Family Traits
I was thinking about what to talk about today, as I need
to practice my writing skills, Eric Clapton once said in
an interview that if you don't practice you could lose
your gifts, so practice. So this is what I'm thinking
about today.
Our kids, all of our kids inherit things from their
parents. Beauty or lack of it, freckles and red hair or
not. Being a bonnie baby or not, being quiet or not. Our
first daughter was very quiet and did not wake us up in
the night. However the 2nd one was the opposite, if she
was the 1st one then maybe we wouldn't have bothered with
a 2nd. Ask your own friends for their experiences. Our
1st one was born in the early hours, I got home at 3am
and had to explain to my Shanghai mother in law that it
was a daughter. A week previously I had been to my
brother's house where we loaded up an estate car, Steve
from Steve's takeaway had helped. My brother had saved
everything from his kids and now he passed it on to
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me.Then once home me and the mother in law had
constructed the cot, without any common language between
us, it took 1.5hours. Today it would take 1/2 that time
as the mother in law understands a lot more English and
I'm much better at contructing flat packs.
Our 1st girl was born almost on Padre Pio's own
Birthday, he being the Saint who'd started the ball
rolling so to speak. Our daughter was big, like me I
suppose. But she has perfect Chinese hair, the kind of
hair girls would kill for. Look at the photos here and
judge for yourself. Apart from that I suppose she looks
very Western.
The thing you learn very fast when you have a baby is how
to change nappies and get them and their smell out the
house. You save all the plastic bags from shopping, and
its a bit like wicket keeping, a catch and a throw and
out the door. Ask any cricketers if nappy changing is as
I've explained. I'm sure they'll agree.
As children grow then traits appear. Our 2nd child is
very funny. Before she was born she was in Shanghai and
her granddad was making my wife laugh. A child in the
womb can hear, so our daughter would have heard all the
laughter, as did her born sister. I think my wife was 8
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months pregnant when she returned home. I can remember
waiting at Heathrow after they'd had 2 months in
Shanghai. My daughter was sitting on the luggage trolley
being pushed by grandma, behind was my very pregnant
wife. I was crying with happiness. And as the cot was
already ready, no 1.5hours of Lego like building.
Drawing is a delight for both my girls. My wife can do
all fancy stuff, Calligraphy and Chinese letters etc. She
even used to go drawing of some sort for the Police in
Shanghai. One of my brothers is good too. So drawing is
in both sides of the gene pool.
As kids grow the family features show. My big daughter
looks like me when I was her age, its like Dr Who in a
way, she is my past and I am her future, its a bit spooky
as the resemblance is so very strong. My other daughter
apparently looks exactly like my wife when she was young
though she is Western looking. So Nature has given each
of us, a clone so to speak. Our youngest also has the
fantasic hair too. You'd have to do some market research
amongst your friends to see if all of them rate hair as
the best thing to have. So long as neither of them go
white early like me.
37. Dress Sense
106
Do men have any dress sense? Walk down your local street
and see what you can see. Me I've not worn a shirt for a
year. I prefer rugby shirts, even though its decades
since I was dangerous on a rugby field. Rugby shirts can
be pulled on and pulled off and thrown in the washing
machine. I have a bright orange one with a polo scene on
it, in fact I have 3 exactly the same. I bought then in
Sawgrass Mills Florida which is the biggest shopping mall
in Florida. There was a sale on when I was there so I
ended up buying 3. At my size you take your bargains when
they come. As for shoes, are black shoes only for the
office and interviews. Personally I like comfy shoes,
brown ones too. I always buy 2 pairs together in the 1/2
price sale. I suppose I could be related to Ken Clarke
such is my choice of shoes. When I used to wear shirt and
ties I always wore bright colours, reds or yellows, that’s
the ties not the shirts. Boring white or blue shirts were
my choice. Never buy a non iron shirt because they always
DO need ironing and they are impossible to iron and end
up looking like a dried out prune. And don't forget to
comb your hair and brush and dandruff off. The worse
thing in the world is dandruff on your shoulders. Moving
on, trousers should always be comfortable, if you bend
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down to tie your shoelaces and you hear a ripping noise
that means the trousers were too tight. Only John
Travalta can look cool in tight trousers. So be honest
with yourself, if you look like Shrek in a suit then
CHANGE. Though I have to confess I've been told I'm a bit
of a Shrek, even though I thought my 18.5 inch neck with
a bright red tie hanging from it made me look important.
Ah well what can a man do? Well ask your wife could be a
good idea, but run for the hills if she says she'll come
shopping with you. You know it'll mean you'll end up with
2 new pink shirts, while she buy 20 items she really
really needs.
Happy Shopping everybody.
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38. Home ©
by
Michael Casey
Home is where the heart is. Homeless is outside a house
looking in wishing it were your home .Put into a Home is
where due to circumstances a loved one has to be put into
care.
As I talk to you this morning I have a drawing on the
desk propped up by the computer speakers .It’s a drawing
of a girl with all her hair to one side, she has long
eyelashes and is carrying a small bag. Besides the biro
drawing of the girl is a big heart and some stars,
written above is “For Daddy.” I have a notepad on the desk
in front of the computer monitor so my girls love leaving
drawings. On the side of the fridge is this weeks spelling
list, held there by magnets that aunty gave us. On top of
the fridge is a fruit bowl full of fruit and sweets. By
the fruit bowl is container full of pens and crayons, a
shopping list in Mandarin beside it. There are photos of
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family scattered about the house, in one corner photos of
my mum and dad both long gone, but still much loved. When
you get to Heaven you’ll see them is what I say to my
girls.We found a stilly photo of me so I put it on the
shelf next to the huge red Chinese dictionary, the fairy
from the Christmas tree is also on that shelf waiting
ever patiently for Christmas to return. Behind me is a
painting of an angel a Bourne Jones copy, blowing a flute
thing. Girls shoes are scattered about the house, waiting
to trip me up. Behind the sofa in this room are two huge
bags of soft toys, waiting to escape .Once my smallest is
back home she’ll release the soft toys from their
Jail. Then she’ll line them up in rows and sitting on the
teddy bear wooden stool she’ll be teacher. All the toys
have names and she’ll chide them as together they learn
this week’s spellings. Her big sister has her nose in a
book, she’s determined to win a prize from the local
library for reading the most books. I told her I read
everything in the school library when I was young. The
sound of chickens comes from the living room LULU, not
that lulu, but a chat show queen on Phoenix can be heard.
Then my wife is on the phone while she shakes her big
wok. I look outside and am pleased to see my sea of
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shamrock, I transplanted it here many years ago, it
nearly died during the harsh Winter we just had but now I
have enough for all of Riverdance. I’ll stop there for
now. But you can see what I’m on about. A home is a
combination of all the things I’ve just talked about. A
home is a physical place, but it is much more than that.
It’s the little things inside the house that turn it into
a home. Such as the Looney Chick toy that I’m using as a
cushion, my girls brought it back all the way from
Shanghai last year, and now we use it as a cushion. The
drawings on the desk in front of me are done with love by
my girls. Sharing a pack of Rolos, even though you love
them so much, this is home, this is family. In the end,
where there is love then there is a home. Without the
love even if your home was better than a 5 star hotel,
then it really wouldn’t be a home, it would be just a
location. For as we all know Home is where the Heart is.
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39. The Weather Forecast©
By Michael Casey
In England we have weather, elsewhere they have climate.
Which may explain why here in England we are obsessed by
the weather and the weather forecast. I know my own wife
always demands I change channels so she can decide if she
can put the washing out, and what clothes she can wear. I
tell her she can press the red button, but that’s no good
she wants the live show of the weather. Then she can hang
my pants out, and get changed. When I visited Shanghai a
decade ago we’d be walking back to her mum’s flat she’d
point to the sky and there on the bamboo rods were my
pants blowing in the wind. Just like a flag she laughed.
So nothing much has changed, only the location of my
pants. Now on an old fashioned washing line in Old Forge
and Singing Anvil, then on a bamboo pole 4 flights up in
Shanghai, and there were no lifts in her mum’s block of
flats, lucky for us we did not have to walk to the 10th
floor. Explains why the Chinese are so fit and thin.
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But why do we love the weather so much? Because its so
variable, so we lust after news of the weather, lust is
the correct word too. People go mad when the sun pops
out. Where I live its as if there is an alarm, the alarm
goes off and suddenly all the men are out on the street
of Old Forge and Singing Anvil, with shorts on. Really
ugly legs too, me I never wear shorts, though I once met
Freddie Garretty from Freddie and the Dreamers. Remember
the song? Who wears short shorts, we wear short shorts.
Am I really getting old, or do I just have a good memory
for trivia. Whatever, where I live men just love getting
their legs out. They must have an alarm in their pockets
attached to their mobile phone, text message tells them
to get their shorts on.
So don’t get burnt everybody and don’t forget the
sunscreen.
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40. Call Centre Calling ©
By Michael Casey
We all just love call centres, we all just love it when
they call when we've just sat down on the toilet and
we're expecting a call from grandma in Shanghai. So the
phone rings and we dash for the Andrex and the sink to
wash our hands in. Then still pulling up our pants, we
fall down stairs just as Norman Wisdom or Brian Rix would
do, then pulling up our pants and doing up our trouser's
belt we pass by the hall mirror and see the black eye
we've just got. We answer the phone, there is a long long
pause, as if the call centre guy is having a final drag
on his **** before answering, "hi I'm Guy, could I
interest you in cable tv, I've got such a great package
to offer." his voice oh so so sexy, in his imagination
anyway. Has he not heard of Sky, the best package. So we
swear in Shanghai dialect, and hang up the phone. Then we
notice our trousers are split, the one's grandma in
Shanghai had made for us, the trousers for her Panzi, her
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Fat Fat Boy son in law.
If only we could get revenge, just like in Bruce
Almighty. A bottled water company rings, so we click our
fingers and its as if the Dam Busters had breached that
dam, a sodden girl will NEVER ring your number again.
Then there's a knock at your door, it’s the Mormons, you
smile and smile, and they start running away, only asking
which way is the airport. Why? Well I'll leave that to
your imagination. The phone rings again, so you do heavy
breathing, only for a voice at the other end of the phone
to say "I'm Sergeant Dixon, would you be interested in
joining the neighbourhood watch scheme." "Sorry Wrong
Number is your reply." You decide to change, you're half
way up the stairs when the phone ring again, you turn and
fall down the stairs again. Your wife is just in the door
and she answers the phone, she can see you over her
shoulder, "I told you you were too fat for those
trousers" You trip over again, "bloody call centres is
all you can say."
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41. Go to bed with the Japanese©
By Michael Casey
I just read about the Japanese being asked to go to bed
early to save energy and the carbon footprint and so
forth. I don't know about you but that'd end in a baby
boom in my family. The good old days of 12 children and
so forth. Shifts for the bed and the first one up being
the best one dressed. With the Japanese perhaps an early
whale sandwich on the tube to work. So they'd save the
planet but wipe out the whale. More sleep is a good idea,
then you have more dreaming opportunities. I have a dream
etc. Perhaps with more sleep the Japanese would invent
more things. My wife is almost Japanese as are all her
relatives and fellow citizens of Shanghai, Shanghai has
so much pride they could almost be Japanese. Don't forget
the song too, "I'm turning Japanese, I really think so."
Top of the Pops memories come flooding back. For my own
part I've discovered the joys of headphones and a
personal DAB radio, its great if you don't want to go to
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sleep yet. Radio4 Midnight news followed by a bit of Bob
Harris or Magic Radio. Sleeping is good but you have to
collate your day before you go off to the land of Nod.
Then you are in a relaxed state so you really chill with
the music. Chill is another DAB station, listen to this
and sometimes you could really be in Japan, in one of
those sleeping capsules in one of those small hotels.
Sleep really is the greatest gift of all, once you have
your 1st baby you will really know what I mean. You sleep
less when you get older, so I've heard, but then you can
put the radio on and listen to something, or just read a
book while you stay all nice and cosy with the duvet
around you. Which brings me to my final thought, if we
all used duvets we wouldn't need to use energy to heat
our bedrooms, and did the Japanese invent duvets?
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42. My Old Age©
By Michael Casey
I'm called "grandpa" by the teachers when I pick up my
kids from school. Because my hair is prematurely white.
In a way its a joke, but I am over 40 years older than my
kids. I was a late starter, but I do have a young wife,
who looks even younger because she's from the East,
Shanghai to be exact. In the East they respect Old Age,
so I'm all in favour of that. But as for having a good
old age, I think I'll be dead, I won't last that long.
I'll have to work to at least 66, and maybe 67. So I'll
be worn out by the time it comes to retire. My dad was a
blacksmith and then spent 40years in a steel works, The
District Iron and Steel in Brasshouse Lane Smethwick. Has
a ring to it don't you agree? He retired a year or two
early when the works was closed down. He had ten golden
years with my mum, then mum died, then he had 5 years in
an old people's home, read Padre Pio and Me
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com But he at least had those
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golden ten years.
My brother was made redundant and now at 60 he's retired.
He can look forward to 20+years of relaxation and
learning. Me I've got 14 years more to do, if there's any
jobs left. If I could win that lottery, then I'd retire
today and write more books. Or if I could get something
produced/published then I'd be able to retire. The
chances of that happening, probably zero, but strange
things have happened, read Literary Criticism on my site.
Perhaps the government should start a National Laughter
Campaign to cheer us all up, Ken Dodd should be
ringmaster. The thought of years of slavery is saddening,
perhaps we could start a National Singing Campaign, a
kind of whistle while you work, Arthur Askey
reincarnated to pass all those extra working years away.
We could sing the Song of The Hebrew Slaves, for that's
what'll happen, retire at 95 IF we're still alive, in the
year of 2010 If we're still alive
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43. My favourite sweets
My favourite sweets are, now let me stop before I
continue. What are your favourite sweets, as you sit in
front on the PC, a cup of coffee perched by your screen
as you read this instead of doing those oh so interesting
Excel reports for the boss. Can you remember back to when
you were a child? Or have you never given up on sweets,
or are you a parent? Well for me it was always a
Cadbury's Crunch. My brother would sell his very soul for
a Rolo, my youngest daughter loves them too, her delight
is squashing them until these stick to our glass coffee
table, which is also our Chinese eating table. If you
look though the living room window you'll think you're
looking at a restaurant or looking at China. Well you
are, Shanghai to be exact, rice with everything. With a
diet like that my girls are tall and thin. That’s why they
enjoy sweets so much. My big daughter likes Caylie now,
if I've spelt it right. We all adore a nice bag of crisp,
so an Aldi 26 pack does down well. I'm old enough to
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remember the salt being in a blue bag inside the crisps,
and not when they reinvented it 20 years ago, I mean 45
years ago. Pop came in heavy glass bottles which had a
penny refund on the bottle, and you could get some chews
with the refund. I always used to drink the dregs from
the pop bottles before taking the bottles back. My
brother who I'd put a red hot poker on his leg, just for
fun as kids do. Well my brother peed in a few bottles, to
simulate dregs, and yes you've guess it, I drank those
dregs. Which reminded me of the salt in crisps packets.
We had an old fashioned sweet shop just a few yards away
from the family house, two ancient sisters with a small
husband between them lived there and made bread but in
the front room was a sweet shop with all those jars of
sweets. They used to say to us children as we left "off
ye go, home to your parents. So we called the shop "off
ye goes".
As you grow up your tastes change, and its a nice novelty
to rediscover an old fashioned sweet shop. Then the
memories come flooding back. I'm lucky in a way because I
drunk so much milk it protected my teeth from all the
sugar. However I did give up sugar in my coffee when I
was 19, just to see if I could. Blokes discover beer and
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stop having sweets, well until they are parents. As for
women its said that a woman would prefer a bar of
Cadburys or Galexy instead of a man. Give her a Jackie
Collins and chocolate and maybe some Baileys and the
whole human race could die. Sobering thought that. But it
does give a whole new meaning to "I'm Sweet on You."
Cheerio from a wet Birmingham, and don't forget
wine/chocolate/beer/Dr Pepper are all best served cold
just like revenge, as any Mafia friend may tell you,
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44. Praise and Reward
Praise and Reward, it’s a sticky question. Some things
don't ask for praise or reward. Like if your kids do a
small chore for you, they don't ask for a pound, they are
just happy to help you, because they love you. If you are
thirsty they'll fetch you a drink, they won't charge you
for it, they'll do it instinctively. Just as my daughter
did this evening when she watched me decorating, or
rather my attempts at decorating, she even sacrificed her
fizzy pop for me, she knows how I prefer pop to alcohol.
Sometimes I'll offer a reward and she'll turn it down.
For me this shows I'm bringing her up the same way I was
brought up. I know the majority of people reading this
will think I'm old fashioned. I do know that her Irish
grandparents would be so proud of her if ever they saw
her, Irish granddad did hold her in his arms but after 7
months or so he was gone, as for my mum she went early to
make the tea.
Encouragement does work and should be used all the time.
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My youngest daughter just loves Matilda the film based
on the Roal Dahl book. Why does she love it? Because its
funny, and because the little girl does find love with
the teacher. The teacher loves and encourages. Just as
everybody reading this does love and encourage their own
kids, even if at the moment the encouragement is to move
out of the way of the tv so all dad's mates can watch the
world cup, and isn't the garden a great place to be and
dad will give you some money for pop from the corner shop
If only the kids get out of the way of the tv.
My daugher has joined a sunday choir, so there she is
praising God, and she gets rewarded with a few quid for
singing.
They do say we all have to sing for our supper, just like
Little Tommy Tucker.
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45. A Child's Love
How can I describe a child's love? I can speak of myself
when I was a child which from the Birth Certificate was a
long time ago. Though some may say I'm still a child,
others, such as women, all women, say that men never grow
up and are always children.
I can remember when I was 10 and I used to sit on the
top step of the stairs and we'd have a "social", me and
my mum. I'd tell her all we'd done at school and what had
happened, all in quiet a large amount of detail.Then my
mum would kiss me goodnight and give me a gentle pat
sending me off to bed. There was so much love in my mum,
lots and lots, for all her big family, lots of prayer
too. I always got an extra ice cream from my dad when we
were on holiday in Wales, we seemed to go to Abergele all
the time. My dad discovered hamburgers for the 1st and
tried 1 then another then another, in the end he had 6,
such wonderful memories. I seemed to remember a castle
nearby, playing golf with my closest brother, we had 1
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club and 1 putter each, this was before Tiger Woods
existed. Our parents loved us and we loved them, this was
before the Modern Family was invented too. Nobody hated
their parents then, nobody dreamed of the Wii and hating
your parents because they would not buy you one. Tv was 2
channels and in black and white, everything was black and
white, you loved your folks and they loved you.
Now 40 or so years later I'm married and I have two small
girls of my own. My Chinese/Irish girls who love me.
Having a family when you thought you may not ever marry,
and then having 2 beautiful girls, this is very humbling
and does make me thank God. The important thing is to
make sure when they look in the mirror they don't fall in
love with their reflection. Its what's inside that
matters I always tell them. And you know what? Even at
their young age they know that beauty fades and is
worthless. A nice smile and a big big heart is what
matters, the reflection that you see in the mirror is
worthless. Mind you I always tell everybody that I fell
in love with my wife because she made me laugh. Nobody
believes me, but there are 2 people who know I'm telling
it as it is, my 2 daughters know it. I bought a book of
Poetry today, from the cheap book shop. There are lots of
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of illustrations in it, 300 famous poems, including a
Children's poetry section. My biggest daughter loves to
draw and she is good, so the idea is to appeal to her
eyes and to her ears. It worked, she wanted to take the
book to bed with her. I said no as I'm old fashioned and
think books should be preserved, not bend and creased,
especially if read in bed. However as I write this I
think I should have let her. So tomorrow I will allow her
to take it to her room. However her smaller sister does
love to write on anything and everything. Perhaps I
should write a poem about that.
Girls like to be tucked in at night and you have to tell
them a story or say prayers with them. Then 10 mins later
they'll come down because they want a drink of milk, and
another kiss goodnight. And could I possibly come
upstairs and tuck them in again. Then 20mins later they
need another drink, so they come down again. Later on,
the girls reappear because they need the bathroom, well
did have all those drinks. Finally carrying more drinks
they disappear up the stairs. This is our Pantomime, a
pantomime of Love. I think of my dead parents and I know
how they would laugh. And my girls are only here because
my dad survived his big heart attack, Hugs and Kisses is
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what little girls give. I love you 20 is what my small
daughter once said, 20 is a big number, so I'm loved that
much. I hope everybody reading this is loved 20 too!
46. Spare a Penny for Dad©
By Michael Casey
They say that if you look after the pennies the
pounds/dollars will look after themselves. So what
should I say if I have a trail of pennies, if I keep on
finding pennies all over the place, a kind of trail of
pennies. And they are pennies and sometimes dimes, for my
daughter has decided to leave American coins all over the
place for me to find. We were in Florida in 2006 and we
no doubt brought back a few coins. My daughter has found
them and thinks its fun to leave them all over the house
for me to find. I don't know if its just a joke, or is
she trying to encourage me with this trail of coins.
Someday I'll win some money, or maybe even the lottery
and then we can buy a big house and then she can have an
arts and crafts room. That would be better than a trail
of paint and water up the stairs to her room. It is nice
to find the odd American coin, it makes me smile and it
reminds me just how much she loves me. Her younger
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sister has no notion of money, we don't give her money,
we buy her any things she wants so we avoid giving her
cash.
Its better to keep children innocent as long as possible,
some children demand money and know notes are a lot
better/bigger than coins. This always strikes me as
taking the innocent away from children, just as saying
Santa does not exist is a bad and evil thing to say.
Everybody knows Santa is real. Anyway don't let your
children fall in love with money, my youngest doesn't
even know that the brown coins have less value that the
silver ones, nor that the gold ones are best of all. I
want that to stay that way as long as possible.
Streetwise kids are a sad reflection of society, mine
will stay safe for as long as possible.
And as for a trail of American coins around the house,
they are my big daughter's joke, for she knows I'm happy
to find even one penny, especially as it means she loves
me.
Goodnight I have to tuck my children in bed now, and that
is better that all the pennies or pounds in the world.
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47. Jigsaws in Your Mind
I'm dreaming of a White Christmas makes us all think of
Snow and Love and the film with Bing Crosby, not
forgetting Family. A few bars of a song and we are away,
our minds are somewhere else. Mind you in today's world
its a few drugs, or so called legal highs and the youth
of today are away. Their minds turning to mush. Me I
like to use my mind and not destroy it. I've been
thinking about Tears For A Butcher which will be the
follow up to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.
Words, ideas ,dreams float by and I sew them together,
not with a needle and thread but with imagination. It
takes time and a lot of energy to create a jigsaw that is
a story which turns into a book. It’s like word
association, or an old photo that’s discovered and brings
back memories. We found a photo of me in shorts and
wearing glasses I was alongside my tall brother, we were
in Oxford visiting my brother at University. An
angel poise lamp was in the photo, the same angel poise
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lamp that’s sat in a corner of my brother's house today.
Pictures lead to memories and in some cases to more
futures, dreaming of the spires of learning, but that’s
another story and another university. When I write its
with passion, I really am taken over by the words, by the
thoughts, sometimes its like an avalanche and I'm right
in the middle of it. I couldn't be all clinical and
planned and precise. I'm not an architect, I am a
dustman, I pick up what I find and use it, I transform
it, and If I can be pretentious, it transforms me too. We
have a friend who just loves music so I emailed him my
best 3 poems and to his surprize he now now thinks I'm a
poet, in fact his wife just rung my wife, about some
recipe no doubt. Chinese folks are just mad for their
food. Anyways with Poems they sneak into my mind and then
I sit down with the idea and I finish it off. BUT Poems
are in charge of me and now me in charge of them. In Nov
1987 I wrote a poem called The Dead and The Living
because I wanted Percy the Undertaker in my novel to be a
man of great tenderness, a poet in fact. The idea came to
me on a bus as I was on my way to my Sunday shift as a
computer operator. I knew then that I would never write
anything better than those few lines. However last year I
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had a line come to me while I was in Saint Phillips
Cathedral having a rest and a sit down. The line was Let
my Tears be my words. When I got home I sat down and
finished the poem with my daughter sat on the edge of my
chair. When I finished I realised that I'd just written
something better than the Dead and The Living, it had
taken 22years. Such is the nature of Poetry. As for my
comedy writing I start somewhere and a connection will
take me somewhere else, a bit like being a ball in a
pinball machine, I get knocked and flipped and nudged
until I end up in quite a different place to where I
began. It is very tiring. Two hours is like a 12 hour
shift, because I'm using all my juices. I have toyed with
the idea of writing Tears for A Butcher, in fact the 1st
chapter is down on paper and in cyberspace. But I don't
want to commit myself to a year of writing, If I sold
some of my other stuff then, or if I had a fan base, then
yes. But for the moment no, so I am content to be a
windmill in my mind, and yes it really is my favourite
song.
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48. Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting
Marrying a Shanghai girl brought many changes to my life.
The sound of chickens clucking for one, Chinese really
does sound like chickens in a hen house, if you listen to
the wife talk to her friends over the Internet or on the
phone or when a few are around the house.Chickens,
chickens,chickens. The Mandarin for it is "quock quock
quar" or something like that. Just ask ask your own
Chinese friends and they will agree. They'll also tell
you that Panzi my own Chinese nickname means FAT FAT BOY,
not a fat boy, but FAT FAT BOY. I finally get married and
have a family and I get called Panzi. Weighing 3 times as
much as the wife or mother in law, has nothing to do with
it, honest I'm a priest you can believe me.
Films brought us together and we still enjoy watching
films on tv. If I could afford Sky Films I'd love to have
it, and a Sky+ HD box. Our Sky+ box is always filled
with films for all the family, Over the Hedge, Bride and
Prejudice and all manner of stuff. Occasionally we have
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to cull the films to make room for more. Sky+ really is a
godsend for any family. I was just watching Kung Fu
Hussle which had Steven Chow in it. It really was great
fun. Lots of Kung Fu action and lots of fun , and I do
mean fun. It was in Chinese with the bottom of the screen
cut off for the sub titles. I was really laughing, it was
on Film4. Chinese Kung Fu films are like ballet and yes
beyond belief but great great fun. If you don't normally
watch subtitled films then please take a chance on my
review skills. Do watch and laugh along. I won't tell you
anything else about it I don't want to spoil it.
Previously there was another film on the tv, it was
called Red Flowers, again in Chinese with subtitles. This
was about a nursery and how a child was dumped there, it
had no Kung Fu in it, but it was really charming. How
they got all the small children to act in it I'll never
know but it was well worth a watch. I was asking my kids
just how much Mandarin they each understood, one was busy
reading the subtitles while the other seemed to
understand a great deal of it. Having 2 languages I hope
will pay dividends for my kids. In the future they can
bring Crunchies and Dr Pepper to me when I'm retired,
they should be able to afford them if them keep their
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language skills up. Their heart they get from me and
their beauty from my wife.
I'll leave it there for tonight.
49. What is Prayer ? What is Love? ©
By
Michael Casey
What is Faith? We are told in one Bible passage that if a
man can do many things yet there is no Love then man has
achieved nothing. I remember this being read at grammar
school at the morning assembly. . Sorry if I cannot quote
it verbatim. I'd come home from work and my dad would be
sitting down in the living room his dinner on a chair so
he could watch the news ,he'd have the first bite raised
to his mouth. I'm not hungry he'd say and offer me his
dinner. This is love. Another time, another shift
pattern. I'd come home at 11p. Dad would wait up to see
me before he'd go to bed, he'd be up at 5am for his work
the next morning. This is the standard I'm used to, I'll
do the same for my own children. Its normal, it’s
obvious. To me anyway. My mother used to watch Dallas on
tv after she'd fed all her children, one hand in her
apron as she watched tv. Only the hand always jumped in
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her pocket, she was saying the rosary while she watched
tv. Very Irish, very motherly. Very normal, the standard I
got used to. Countless mothers the world over do the
same. They may be Christians, they may be of a multitude
of different Faiths, yet one thing in common. Love, love
of God, love of family, love of children . And do we
thank our parents for this love? If we didn't and now our
parents our gone, then do we live with regret all our
lives . No, this would be folly. We can thank our parents
and our God by being good parents, by trying to copy the
good example shown to us . I met my wife in the
retirement home where my dad lived after his near fatal
heart attack, which happened 8 bare weeks after my mother
died in her sleep. My dad lived long enough for me to
meet/marry and have a granddaughter. As I gaze on my
daughter's face I often say "thank you". Thank You to God
for allowing me a wife and for having a daughter. An
extremely beautiful daughter, healthy and funny. I have to
show the moon to my daughter because she thinks its so
pretty, she loves stars too , not yet 22months old and
she knows the wonder of creation . As I look upwards and
see the cold beauty of space I know how lucky I am. I
know how lucky I am. Lucky enough to cry, which I do on
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occasions. My tears are my humble thanks and praise of
God. I have a family. July 96, mom was gone 2 months, and
dad was now given 1 week to live. So after 3years of
constant visits to the seniors home I met my wife, my
Shanghai China. So yes I cry in the dark of the night as
I look up at the stars . I am a lucky man, because I had
good parents, I know I did . I hope everybody could be as
lucky as me .....
well I hope this reads ok , I couldn't think of any
poetry , I just hope telling it plain catches the spirit
, the spirit of love . One word, one look, one sigh, one
flicker of the eyes, each of these is a prayer, a deep
prayer . A prayer of hope, pray, hope and don't worry is
a motto I try to live by that’s all the advice I can give
michael
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50. Singing Songs
To sing is to doubly praise, Saint Cecilia said that. My
sister says it too on occasion. Singing makes us all
happy, it lightens the load, it helps pass the time, if
we are happy we'll whistle or hum or sing. Just ask any
workman, though workmen still like to whistle, or should
I say wolf whistle when they see a pretty girl. "Hello
Darling" rings out from high up an unfinished building,
followed by laughter when the girl turns around and the
girl is in fact a boy with a girlish haircut.
But I was talking about singing. My girls were singing "A
sailor went to sea, sea sea, to see what he could see see
see." so obviously I jointed in. My youngest was amazed
that I knew it, so I told them that that rhyme must be at
least 50 years old. So on they sang, doing the hand
clapping that accompanies it. It took me back, where have
all the years gone, I really hope I can last till 100
then I'd have more time with my girls and any
grandchildren or even on great great grandchild. But
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that's up to God, the girls Great Grandpa is alive and
kicking into his 90s, he's on his 3rd wife now having
worn out the 1st 2, Shanghai diet in a warm China may
explain it.
Grandma does sing Jesus songs with the girls over the
Internet from Shanghai, and my big daughter has just
joined the choir at Saint Hilda's down road from the
woods. Google tells me Hilda was very wise and lived a
monastic life. My daughter did an audition and was let
into the choir. They even pay a small stipend. My own
sister has been singing over 45 years, despite us telling
her to shut up. Me and my brothers were altar boys, none
of us getting any reward for this church work. Perhaps we
should have stopped being Catholics and moonlighted for
the Protestants. I was also a reader for 7 years, so I
can remember passages from the Bible, as well as hearing
them all my life these past 50 years.
Singing songs is very very touching, a song will touch
the heart and my sister is right, to sing is to doubly
praise. Songs at funerals which open the floodgate,
Angels by Robbie Williams is very popular now, it was
played at my cousin's funeral; songs at the last night of
the Proms which make you proud and happy. As I talk to
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you I listening to music, Hotel California from the
Eagles, 34 years ago that was out. I never guessed I'd
spend 3 years in an hotel. Hotels have music to kill the
deadness of an empty foyer/reception area, as do bars.
Songs that you can sing too give a place a good vibe. Gay
bars play lots of Abba I'm told, again because its great
happy music, it helps the fun on a cold Tuesday evening.
I'm listening to an old Elton John album now, Made in
England, its worth digging out, its from 1995. Classical
music and opera touch us too, even when we cannot
understand a word. Pavorotti, and that blind Italian
singer Andrei Bocelli, both can touch us. I remember in
1966 when the whole family went to Lourdes, we were
singing Ave Maria in the darkness, holding up our lighted
candles, perhaps 40,000 people singing in the dark. Now
that is really touching and uplifting. I suppose other
Faiths do things their way which are no doubt just as
powerful.
As you have all no doubt gathered through these blogs, I
do like my music, a pocket DAB is always close to me, in
fact after 5 years its a bit battered, so I have to save
up for a replacement. When you're happy and you know it
clap your hands, is a song we sing when we are kids, we
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are all so free. We sing when we are in the shower, we
sing when we are in love.
Song is the Spirit that cannot be broken, we sing to
babies in the crib, babies can hear before they are born,
its singing that creates love.
So sing, sing, sing. For we are alive
****************************************
Well I hope you all enjoyed this. It’s a 50 piece selection of my writing that’ll I
use to get a writing job. Ok to get ignored...
www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com is where my writing lives on a day to day
basis.
You can also buy my 14 books on Amazon Kindle by just clicking on the link
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-
Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Thank You
Michael Casey


p.s. right now I feel like death, or having  a 500kilo sumo sat on my left shoulder, pain killers not working yet. SO stay healthy all of you, as long term illness is no fun.

Fake News, You Pick and Chose

Fake News, You Pick and Choose ©

By

Michael Casey

I stumbled over Nick Robinson in my Guardian today, what he was doing in my garden, probably stealing rhubarb, that Johnnie friend of his is a bit of a custard, they are a right pair of jokers, and they both wear ear muffs indoors. Strange People those Radio 4 types, 4 types of what you may well ask.

I had just finished my prayers, 6 visits to my church of ablutions, you get an extra grace if you sprinkle three times on the floor and use 1/2 a roll of paper a day. My CkD specialist told me that one, or was he just being funny, you can never tell with specialists, there are so full of long words.

I read in the Daily Snog, an online resource for students of New Media, ok its a scandal sheet published online, with the slops from TNZ, the kind of stuff that was locked up in that safe and never published in the News of the World. Anyway I read that Nick Robinson and that Scots fellow are really best friends, more than friends, they even finish each other’s sentences and they went on a cycling holiday to the Vatican on unicycles after they had finished their mountain climbing holiday in Holland. I think they are actually brothers separated at birth, yes really. It was in the Daily Snog in a column under how to breastfeed your boyfriend, a tip to get pregnant. No not in that column,in another column just under that one.

Playboy died I read it in Live News, its an online paper for undertakers, they have such a quirky sense of humour, so would you if you were dealing with cold dead people all day. A bit like Political Journalists interviewing Politicians, I suppose you are right, I’d have to ask my friends Julian and Sandy, they work on the Daily Rag. A Political Newspaper? No an online resource for Window Cleaners, or is it Anger Management? Anyway they have Radio4 on all the time, the button broke on their DAB Radio, so as they push the cart around cleaning windows they listen non stop. They once cleaned all the windows at the BBC, the things they saw you would not believe. Throwing darts at a Piers Morgan photo was a common feature.

I think I’ll read the Obit to Playboy in the Telegraph, they wouldn’t cover it in the Guardian, they are too pretentiously posh, I think its because they are all Virgins, or is it Vegans? They all wear sandals anyway. Was Nick Robinson’s piece in the Guardian? Yes, because his dad wears Clarks or was he a clerk. I cannot remember, who checks facts anyway, I’m not a journalist.

The BBC is so boring and biased, it was in a link I clicked on which was in FB,or somewhere, I just click and read, follow the amazing facts column then take a right click followed by a left then a right again, just past all the dating sites for Vegans and Guardian readers, or was it Virgins and Gardeners? Something about throwing seeds into furrows and a lot of tilling the land, or was that land girls and grandma? How cares, where was I? The print size is so small on the screen, how kids can read off their mobiles is beyond me. Anyway it said the BBC was biased, so it must be true. All the Politicians agree.

And on it goes, I hope Nick and the crew forgive me, and when the Scots guy gets back from his mountain climbing holiday in Holland he might split a bottle with his best friend Nick. And no not over the head, you are not launching a ship, you are celebrating friendship.

When I saw Steve Hewlett on tv I always thought he was a nice man and listened to his words. Quality really does count and a scholarship in his memory is a great idea. There is so much rubbish all over the place so we need to preserve, protect and defend quality News and Information. Is Mark Zuckerberg doing the same thing in USA, or is he just polishing his image ready for a run at the Presidency?

Sometimes the best position is influence, when you have the power you may not be up for the job, so influence is always better than power. So quality information or journalism is the best gift we can give to any population. Otherwise wolves in sheep’s clothing take over. Satire and Cartoons also have a place in Journalism, so Political Cartoonists should also be encouraged and given space. The joy of the Internet is that there is no lack of space, it’s the BBC’s job to lay the buffet table and they let people try what’s on offer.

As for me I have to get back in the kitchen and do the washing up before my wife gets home, otherwise you’ll be reading about a new surgical procedure , Wok removal from Anus, in the online magazine Blacksmith’s Son and Cutlery, the essential guide for BBC Producers…

Nights in Malta from jan2017

Nights in Malta ©

By Michael Casey

Before I start I should tell you I had a great week in Malta in 2013 and I long to return, even though it was there that my Arthur my Arthritis started to hit home. I was overjoyed that I could buy Deep Heat in Malta. Now its 4 years on and my unplanned quadruple heart bypass has overtaken me. I was told it was a triple but it was a quadruple I discovered 6 months later.

My cKd needs to be watched too, I’m telling you all this so that you can understand just how important it is to me that I can WRITE, its food for my Spirit even if you lot like it or not. So now I’m going to share part of a story that’ll become part of a chapter in Tears for a Butcher my full length sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.

Now read on and apologies to Navy Seals everywhere, please don’t leave a horse’s head in my bed, a Subway one foot long sandwich would be better……

So it was all true, Tiny wasn’t mad or just battled out at all, he really was a seer, he saw it all the time, but when he wrote that picture in pencil and crayon the Admiral had to make a decision, so Tiny was grounded, his flippers taken away. So that’s when he became a bodyguard for that zillionaire’s old mum, lucky for there he was there he had to take care of her. He was more like a son to her, and that’s why she always wears a scarf, somebody got to her, before Tiny got to them. It covers the scar.

So what happened in Malta? Well Ester made a friend with this Irish woman in Birmingham, the one in England. You know how she likes to have real friends not people sucking up to her son, or trying to get a foot in the door. So when she heard about the triple birth, that was impossible, you’ll have to ask a gyno doctor to explain it. Anyhow Ester prayed like crazy, as only a Jew can pray. And her friend prayed like only an Irish Catholic can. But most of all Rita in Malta who was Mrs Murphy’s friend she prayed like only the Maltese can pray, and after what they put up with from those Nazi SOBs in the war they know how to pray.

So these triplets were born in Birmingham, in their Dudley Road hospital. And it was impossible, I can’t explain everything as we haven’t got the time. But it turns out that Rita’s son was the lead gyno  doctor. He had renounced his Faith went his dad had died and he with all his medical knowledge could not save him. But when the triplets were born they each had a Maltese cross birthmark on their shoulder. Mrs Murphy and Rita had met and done a deal, if one helped her friend have a child, just one pregnancy, then Mrs Murphy would pray that her son came back to the Faith.

So Almighty God killed two birds with one stone. He sure did, then Ester jumped out of the shadows, she’d flown non stop from Vegas just to be there. Everybody was so excited, Mrs Murphy was crying because she had not kept her side of the bargain. Then the doc revealed himself and it came out that he was Rita’s son. He was an old bachelor, but his nurse had loved him for years. You’re having me on, no for sure, Almighty God was settling all the scores in one day.

So they decided to go back to Malta immediately and marry before his old mother died. Only the French air traffic control were on strike, those SOBs are always on strike. So Ester through a bitchy fit, she got Tiny to press the red button on his phone. 14 satellites bleeped and the War Room went to condition amber. He son makes all the military satellites, its a bit like chipping your dog, but with Norad answering.

So to keep it short, a Nato war game was interrupted and 4 assault and recovery helicopters descended on down town Birmingham. Took the doc and his crew to Birmingham airport. They put the helicopters on the K734ASD plane and headed for Malta with F15 tomcats as escort. That Zillionaire really loves his mum, and the Joint Chiefs of staff love her too. Mrs Murphy did insist on visiting the duty free at the airport, it frightened a few people, Special Forces ambling through the duty free. But Mrs Mrs Murphy did insist on getting Rita and the soon to be newly weds a few presents. One of the forces chatted up the girl at the checkout and , well that’s another story.

My that’s a busy story. It ain’t finished, Ester’s son rang to hire the entire Hilton, only he got suspicious of their tone of voice. So he brought up the Hilton on 3 of his satellites. The Mafia were holding a meeting at the Hilton. When Tiny and the Special forces were informed they just smiled and jump straight out of the plane and cleared the mafia from the Hilton, so it wasn’t a waste of a day as far as Special Forces were concerned.

So that’s the end? No. Everything went well and the doc married his nurse in Malta, Rita and Mrs Murphy were overjoyed. Ester’s poker club in Vegas were annoyed because Ester had left them so suddenly. So she set her phone up so that her Vegas friends could play poker against some old Maltese men.

It was then that it happened. One of the Mafia had been hiding in a cupboard and sprung out. It was a room full of people and kids too. Tiny was going to do his stuff and save everybody but he was afraid that some kids would get hurt by stray bullets. So he’d have to smother the Mafia guy, Tint would probably die, but everybody would be safe.

Ester looked at the statue of the Virgin Mary in the corner of the ballroom, us 2 Jews alone in a room full of Gentiles. Let it be me that dies, I’m old, let it be me not Tiny, he’s like a son to me, he never got that girl he dreamed about. He drew her picture on paper, so pretty, then all red in the left hand side of her face. Please Mary, as one Jew to another, save all these Gentiles.

My granny used to ask me to sing for her, why don’t you sing for me.

Ester stood up as requested by the only other Jew in the room, so Ester sung something all the Gentiles would love. She sung the Ave Maria, Ester sung the Ave Maria. One by one they all got up and defiantly sung the Ave Maria. The Mafia guy was astounded, a wall of sound, Phil Spector producing Ave Maria.

Tiny could see this might give him an edge,and he edged forward ready to leap, ready to save everybody. At that moment Ester’s  prayer was answered, Tiny got to see his girl, for a waitress entered through the far door. She was beautiful beyond compare, and on the left side of her face was a port wine stain birthmark. Now the girl had been teased all her life because of her mark of shame. But she too had had a vision, or rather a voice in a dream. A man from the sea will marry you, the bravest man in the world is the only one good enough for you.

At that moment Tiny saw his girl and they both knew the prophecy had been revealed. Would it all end in death. Both begged the Virgin to save the other, let them live even if they died. At that same time  the girl, Rose was her name, she grabbed a saucer and threw it like a frisbee hitting the Mafia guy on his adam’s apple. As he choked Tiny flew with Saint Michael the Archangel himself flapping his wings behind him. The Mafia guy was disarmed and bundled away.

So that explains why every Navy Seal in the service is heading for Malta. Its true, we had to ask the Commander in Chief for special permission. He only agreed when we told him that Rose knew Tiny’s service number, she had dreamed it all those years ago.