Saint Cindrella

Saint Cinderella ©

By Michael Casey

I was  at Mass today and I heard a good story, some youngsters  were having instruction prior to Confirmation and they were told to pick a Saint’s  name which you adopt at Confirmation, pick any name you like. So come the big day a girl went up to be “slapped” by the bishop, it’s a tradition you get a gentle tap, all part of being a fully grown up Christian. I was teased that it would be more like a punch and that it would really hurt, but that was 40years ago. As for the girl when asked for her name, she had chosen a name she really liked, Cinderella was her chosen name.

Names are given to us by our parents, it used to be the sons were named after granddads and daughters after grandmas, so in Ireland there are lots of Marys and Patricks, years later legions of John-Pauls. My own name is Michael which may mean I was named after the Arch-Angel, or like the Lord. People try to shorten names to prove they are close to you, Michael may become Mike. Me, I like M I  C H A E L and I don’t answer to anything else, I once wore a dickie-bow  for a day to reinforce the fact that I was MICHAEL, that was 1979, yes I am that old but I do look good for my age, even with my early silver hair. Its patronising for folks to shorten your name and put their arm around you, then they steal your land, that’s how it was in the olden days.

A name can be a title, Captain on a ship or on a plane, though “captain” on a sinking ship has another meaning, it’s just mocking somebody’s ability. So names invest us with power and authority, though Prime Minister in Italy for example has other connotations, it means more Bunga Bunga and less actual politics. Titles are confusing though, a student studies medicine for 6 years to become a Dr, then studies for 3 more years to become a Mr, then maybe 6 more years of study to become a Professor, me I’m not even a Mr, plain Michael Casey is enough for me.

As you study you gain letters to put after your name, so Michael Casey PhD, that’s if I ever studied for 6 years, I doubt if I could ever gain a PhD for writing blogs on  https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com or for my 5 books on Amazon Kindle, though if anybody ever wants to give me an honour then I’ll snatch it from your hand. I worked very hard in a 4 star hotel for 3 years so I know how to accept any freebies, though a PhD would be the ultimate freebie. People with PhDs discover they are classified as medically trained when they are put on a plane and then they are asked to sort out medical emergencies, so what do they do to avoid this? They removed their title from after their name and become plain old Mr again.

Names denote love and a link to a time in our lives, so a child may be called April because it was raining April showers so the parents stayed home instead of going out and conceived little April. Holly may mean a child was born at Christmas or conceived at Christmas, or just called Derek. Who knows but a name has to last a lifetime, so pick something nice, Kylie may be ok for a singer but do give your child a break, Florence is a nice name and it reminds us of the Magic Roundabout, and what could be better than that.

https://michaelcaseyfrombirminghamengland.blogspot.co.uk/ to read 200 stories

https://michaelcaseyfrombirminghamengland.blogspot.co.uk/ 

I've  let the door open so you can read 200 stories, thank you Poland and Ukraine but please tell your radio to read them out with  Polish actor.

And yes they can  pay me too I need a bigger house for my family.

Starting a New Job

Starting a New Job ©

By Michael Casey

My daughter started a new job today, or rather she started as a volunteer at a local Charity shop, so she’ll be working but not getting any pay. Its ood experience of the real world for her. I told her I used to clean toilets and then talk to millionaires, in whatever order. I was everything at the CPNEC Birmingham, I’m very flexible, though not so much now thanks to my arthritis. That’s the thing with a job, be flexible, don’t say it’s not on your job description, though the ardent union people reading this will be angry by my attitude. While people argue the toss mess festers and worse, so I say just be flexible.

Can you remember your 1^st ever job? Mine was walking the streets, yes I was a prostitute, are you shocked or worse? You cannot imagine women wining and dining me etc. Well you are wrong and I’m pulling your leg, but at least I know the measure of my audience my readers. What kind of boy do you think I am? Say Sorry or I’ll stop writing and I’ll never talk to you all again.  Six hours later and you only now say sorry. What were you all doing, you went out to dinner with your girlfriend and then watched the MU match on tv. Then you etc and etc. Ok no need to carry on, well just stop carrying on, this is not a Carry On film. Google Carry On films if you have never heard of them. Carry OnUp the Kyber might be a good start.

Ok so where was I, I was walking the streets, it was first ever job. No I wasn’t a prostitute, I was a MARCH Assessor.  Which means Men Are Right Clumsy Hooligans, ok I’m joking again, it meant Maintenance and Repair and Costing for Highways. Which meant I walked the streets all day. Thankfully I did not walk the streets at night. Though I do have great legs and look good in drag. 

OK, enough of this maybe a bit of that or even the other later, which means something else if English is not your 1^st language, maybe Korean or Polish is your 1^st language. At least learning English with me is much more entertaining than what you learn at school with Miss Smith from Leamington your exchange English teacher. My accent is much nicer, you can tell just by the words on the page. And if you understand that then you are far too good to be reading this you should be a writer.

So there I was with a clipboard in my hand walking all over the Black Country  streets looking at the roads for Wheel Track Deterioration. This is like the marks on the road surface caused by the traffic, eventuation you will get rutting and holes. So by sending an idiot out with a clipboard you can see how worn down the roads are and decide if you need to resurface them. Yes I was that idiot, and it happened to be the hottest summer in decades. One day I walked 26 miles, as much as a Marathon, in 90degrees  plus of heat. My face  changed from white to brown, I have a photo somewhere of me with my new suntan. 

Yes I was young and fit then, years later in Ireland I walked a marathon in a day too, from Killarney to Cromane Lower. Now I’m still fit  but only with  encouragement. As I talk to you I again realise I am Ronnie Corbett and Joyce Grenfell’s lovechild, but maybe you have to be a Radio 4 producer to recognise that. But I’ll work  for Capital Radio too, if they are inspired enough to use my 1200 or so short pieces.

Walking the streets meant I learnt the value of good shoes and decent socks, and of washing my feet as soon as I got home. Just as my dad did, though he came home from Hell every day, a 400degree+ steel works, the District Iron and Steel in Brasshouse Lane Smethwick. This was another thing that bonded me and my dad, we did physical work.

You get strong legs if you walk all day, ask any policeman or prostitute you may know, both would be arresting experiences, but I jest. Little did I know that I’d spend a lot of my life on my feet running around. In computer rooms and print rooms, or all around the hotel CPNEC Birmingham. Though all this standing DID save my life because when I needed veins I had them in my strong legs ready to be transferred to my heart for my unplanned quadruple heart bypass. So was God saving my life by having me walk and stand all my life? And as a writer I have to be quick on my feet to get the words on the page all lined up like soldiers to march across the page and into your hearts and minds. Then again I could just be talking a load of silk stockings, like I wear for 50 Shades of Michael.

All this started with me talking  about  my first job, now our worker has just returned home and I’ll ask her how her day went. I might help her celebrate by buying Dr.Pepper, she will be Dr.Casey in future after all.

Cover Letter for when you all apply for your next new job, every piece I write is my "cover letter"

Cover Letter 2014 ©

By

Michael Casey

I was talking to somebody about cover letters today, I can see the irony as I talk to you, as I won’t be needing one myself any more. However Pitch Letters are a different thing, and I do expect to have to do some of those.

So what about Cover Letters, they are part of the job search process, without one you may not get a job, or it may swing it for you. So you have to write a cover letter. I looked at my old cover letter today and realised it was too long.

A CV should be two pages and no more, the cover letter that goes with it should be just one side. HR people and job agencies are always in a hurry, they won’t even look at a multipage opus. Into the bin it will go, literally or on their PC.

So what do you do? You iron out he rough spots, and raise the molehills to mountains, and vice versa. The Cover Letter is your chance to shine, it’s like your Facebook home page. Or your paragraph on the Dating Website. It’s all about you.

So you say what you were great at, you never say “I was a bit rubbish at X Y Z” followed by but. Your Butt would be kicked out before you even start. It’s a Positive Only piece, it’s your chance to get a great job, or any  job and be able to afford to pay the rent or buy a new set of golf clubs.

So tell them what you are great at, and think differently about yourself, put yourself in their shoes, the Saint Augustinian Way, and Sell Yourself. You may not think  that visiting the sick is anything special, its your good deed. This proves to an employer exactly where your heart is, he may be a hospital visitor himself, yes him in the £2000 suit.

You may be embarrassed by your kindness but it lets the employer know just what kind of person you are. Your Community Actions do make a difference.

I

In your job it may have been you who trained all the new people, and wrote the basic Bible for the job you all did. Nobody else could have been bothered, but you did it. So put it in the Cover Letter, you have Training Experience, so boast about it.

You may speak several languages, and the office staff may have poked fun at you for it, but it’s you who speaks to all the truck drivers when they arrive from all over Europe. Tell everybody as the Billy Joel song goes, you may even overlook it, because it’s only a few minutes. But only you can do it, so boast about it.

Write a list of everything you can do, and everything you do do, then write a flow chart of it, and join the dots with words. If you sell your house you put everything down in a positive way, so on a Cover Letter you do the same, but about yourself.

I am fat and have white hair, this describes me. In a Cover Letter it becomes I am distinguished looking with silver hair and a strong athletic build.  Ok the athletic may be stretching it too far. You are painting a picture, a pretty postcard showing just how great you are, so you get that job.

All this has to be done on one page, it’s a sprint and the winner gets the job, so don’t be shy give words a try.

Michael The April Fool

this is from 1998 and was the inspiration to the ending of chapter One of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker which is on this site. and yes it really  happened.

Michael G Casey email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com

                                Michael the April Fool  (c)

By Michael Casey 

       

          It was Thursday , Maundy Thursday and the company was finishing early for the Bank Holiday weekend , we were also celebrating winning an award , so Easter eggs and Champagne were on offer . It was also April Fools Day , but that was mostly forgotten . I’d been asked to take photographs , as I was known as the “In-house Papperatzi” , so take photos I did . Then I got instantly pissed on the Champagne , because I just cannot handle alcohol , one whiff and I’m drunk , normally I drink shandy , so free champagne just went straight to my head . However I was still able to take some nice photos for the company’s records , some say the camera is surgically attached to me , and perhaps its true . Derek the boss topped up my drink saying at the same time “I think you’ve had enough already” , and he was right .

           Collecting my coat from the computer room I danced down the 3 flights of stairs and made my way towards the pub , it was a holiday after all . Everybody was in O’Neils the Irish pub which was 150 yards around the corner from our office , when The Fox opened in an hour we’d move on to it , the beer was cheaper and stronger there , but for an hour we’d hang around O’Neils . As luck would have it Derek the boss was getting a round in as I queued to buy myself a drink , so he was more or less “bounced” into buying me a shandy , its always nice to make the boss buy you a pint , minutes earlier he was pouring me champagne and giving me an Easter egg , and now he was buying me a pint . I could almost forgive the company for making me redundant . So pint in hand I joined the others and sat down at a table , before opening my Easter egg and eating it , the Smarties eggs are very nice.

Everybody was as usual disgusted at my eating habits , chocolate was soon smeared around my face , I looked like a 4 year old , a 40 year old  4 year old!

             When I’d finished the egg and my pint of shandy I got up to buy the lads a drink , the barman was busy so I started waving at him as I usually do , he still ignored me so I switched from waving to giving a Papal Blessing with my fingers , this made a girl on a stool next to the bar laugh. “Thats unusual,” she said , so while waiting to be served we got talking . She had blacky/redy hair , and nice eyes so naturally I was attracted to her , even though her boyfriend was sitting next to her.

But as usual as I was pissed I ignored the simple fact , “never chat up another man’s girlfriend if her boyfriend is sitting next to her” , however I continued , I even asked

“are you the boyfriend then ?” To which the man replied indignantly “Certainly not , I’m Bent” , so he was gay and not the boyfriend . So I turned my back on him , now that I knew it was safe and continued afresh talking to her .

             I finally got served , so I handed out the pints before staying at the bar to talk to the girl . She was a chef with short finger nails , so that the food didn’t get stuck under them , it was  a food hygiene thing . The really interesting thing was that she was an artist , she said she painted Aliens , I immediately thought of Ian , why Ian , well we all think he looks like an alien , with his high cheekbones and slanty eyes . All this shandy was making me very happy , and I needed a piss , so I went to the gents . While I was away the girl and her “bent” friend breathed a sigh of relief . When I came back Kate , that was her name , started to hold my hand and squeeze it . I told her to stop because I was enjoying it too much . As for me I started to tell her that she was pretty but she could do with a comb , as her hair was a mess .

She loudly replied she’d only just finished work and got out of the kitchen , how dare I . I just carried on regardless , next I said she had nice teeth but a bit like tombstones . To which she replied “Yours are nice , are they your own or have you had them capped.” To which I replied that I drunk lots of milk , probably 1 or 2 litres a day . My mother always said she should have bought a cow it would have kept the grass down in the garden and she’d have enough milk for me .And still I was admiring her eyes , and she was shaking and squeezing my hand , and both of us were getting tipsy , her “bent” friend as he had called himself had gone away , and left us to it . I have to admit that my drunken lust had been awakened by now .

             I returned from the gents , Antoinette her gay friend had returned , and a couple of other obviously gay people came along to kiss/and say their hellos . One a big man in a leather jacket , also called Michael turned out to be a photographer . Antoinette was trying to persuade Kate to let Michael photo her and/or her work , to be honest I was too pissed to quite remember what was going on , two shandies on top of the champagne had left me pissed . Then Kate said she wasn’t a real woman , she was in fact a trans-sexual , she’d been born a man , and was now a woman . So I squeezed her hand , and then her thigh , she was on a stool in front of me , so her thigh was right in front of me . “I don’t believe you , you feel like a woman , if my memory serves me ,” I said repeatedly as I squeezed her thigh , no doubt leaving masses of bruises . Then Kate said that when she was 7 in Ireland it was decided to convert her , if thats the word , from a boy into a girl . I laughed nervously when I heard this , still squeezing her thigh . Antoinette chipped in with the wonders of modern surgery . I laughed nervously , had I spent 30 mins chatting up a “man” , I just couldn’t believe it .

             “Well I’ll be damned,” I said laughing manically .Again I squeezed her hand and her thigh . “Do you bleed , can you have children ?” was my next drunken question . Logic and alcohol are not good bedfellows . This must have been a question too  far , “It is April the First, after all ,” said Antoinette still straight faced. “You’ve been pulling my leg,” I slurred .They both rolled their eyes , I really was a total prat , a total idiot . I was Michael the April fool . Then Kate added that she was asexual , as much interest in sex as a block of wood , so I had been wasting my time all along , despite being made a fool of . The lads were now heading for the Fox , so it was time to leave . So I kissed Kate goodbye , on the lips  , her lips were woman’s lips , what a relief , or was I mistaken ?

Catching Up

Catching Up ©

By Michael Casey

I was up in the middle of the night again, I did have a few weeks without the need but last night or rather this morning I had to get up. I discovered an old piece on the computer, remember I have 1200 to 1400 stories in my back list, so if I’m too dazed by pain I may just pick an old story to keep you all interested, and then just post it.  I posted a piece in pain at 4am or so which was very funny but it’s from Easter 1998, so later on when I got up for a drink I decided to remove it. It had 20 views but I could not see any more details for some strange reason. So I had a drink and went back to bed. Then when I was fully rested I got up for breakfast and beta blocker, just so that my heart does not tic itself to my death. Remember too I wake every 2 hours, such is my life, but it’s better than being in a cold grave and pushing up the daisies.

After breakfast I wondered where the people from the story are now. I tracked one down on the internet and sent an email greeting, but would any of you want anything to do with the likes of me? Especially after 19 years.  We will see. I went shopping too and a little Pakistani lad was in the queue with his dad, I told the dad I was Santa and would be growing my beard for Christmas. I was dressed in red trousers and red coat, and I do have silver or white hair already. The dad laughed, later on as I walked down the road the child spotted me and told his dad it was Santa, so I told the dad conspiratorially not to tell his infant where I lived. Other than that  I’ve not really thought of Christmas, though Ocado send me an offer, so I filled or fridge with it. They are very nice people after all.

Which brings me to today’s tale. Catching Up, when you meet old friends or enemies and you shoot the breeze. With friends it’s all about how’s life and where are you working or living now. How are the kids and so on. You share a joke about that fat slob of a guy with the body odour you all used to work with. Then your friend’s face drops, I married him, she pulls back her coat to reveal her pregnant belly. I’m having his triplets. So how do you respond to that? Do you pretend not to have heard what she said? Or do you limply say Three must be your lucky number. To which she replies, it is, this is our third set or triplets. What can you say to that? I suppose he must work very hard at his job. He does, he invented a new kind of deodorant, must dash now, one of the servants is picking us up in one of our Rolls Royces. A red Silver Shadow stops and a uniformed chauffeur helps your friend into the Rolls Royce. You wave weakly. She gives you the finger, just as the Queen might do.  That’s the trouble with friends you never know where they might end up.

Me, if anybody sees me, they blank me, or pretend not to see me, or maybe that’s just my Priests. 17 hours in the confessional once, the Priest told me to go away and never come back, I was using reverse logic on him, it was very revealing. I have enough material for 3 books at least. But my lips are sealed. Do you doubt me, would I lie to you I am a writer or over 1.2 million Words  now? Liars make the best writers after all, or is it Imagination, you’ll have to ask your own priests.

But where was I, here explaining Catching Up. Now parents love their children but as children grow older they love their parents less. They are busy with their own lives now. But when you meet an old friend you lie and say how wonderful your kids are and how much they spoil you. They are forever sending Ocado to your door with food galore. Even if you haven’t spoken to them in a year. You pretend that you still have a relationship when really there is only mutual hatred. But they do still send you Christmas cards, so that is something. But to your friends you lie and lie and lie. You can’t lose face can you, and you are not even Chinese. You have to have a good memory if you lie a lot, so your tales of great children are more and more disjointed. Your friends know you are lying but some are kind and remind you of your own lies so you can get the story or rather the lie straight. Others are just evil bastards you should not talk to anyway but it is a spiral of your own making.

There is humour when you catch up too, like do they remember when you nearly fell in the canal, I rocked back on my chair laughing so Barry had grab the chair’s arm or I’d be Jacques Cousteau in a  Birmingham canal. We do have more canals than Venice you know, but not as nice. Steve said Barry only saved me because it was my round next, he’d have been pintless, so he saved me. I did tell you that the vicar Paul fell in with his bike once, it would have been a Baptism for him, but I digress.

If you have been reading Chapter One of The Butcher the Baker and the Undertaker on this site at the end there is a bit about a drunken man Patrick trying to chat up a girl, who claimed she was really a man. Well I wanted to add a hook to that chapter 10 years after I’d written it, and as the  real event happened on April Fools’ Day 1998, in fact just before I went on my Czech misadventure I think, but it was April’s Fools’ Day. Well it was me, as I cannot handle alcohol, I am that April Fool. If I can find the story I’ll post it. But take it from me the event really happened and is immortalised in my stupidity at the end of Chapter One of BBU. So you can imagine  people can laugh at me forever. But it does make the book funnier and hopefully gives chapter one a good ending which will make you all want to read more.  

So if people who know me from my computer room part of my life when we catch up that is always remembered, and if they forget I’ll tell them about it. Life is more than Catching Up, it’s about loving up. It’s about your mates down the pub, at work, in your band, in your football team, or in your chess club or even in your stamp collecting club. Whatever binds you together, will always be part of your collective memory. Like the time fat johnnie saved that girl from being mugged, by throwing a dustbin at the potential mugger. He was too fat to chase after him but he got his photo and the police did the rest. Everybody said he was stupid spending that kind of money on a phone. But it did the job, the girl’s dad turned out to be rich and gave fat johnnie a job when nobody else would.  Fat johnnie was so grateful he turned over a new leaf and became a body builder, he lost 4 stones or 30kilos. Last time I caught up somebody said he married the girl’s younger sister, his new phone is twice as expensive. And all because he threw a rubbish bin at a mugger. Yep Life is funny that way.