p.s. Hello Equador, they are reading The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker in Spanish translation as we speak. I hope they tell all the neighbours in South and Central America. I doubt if I'll ever make a cent, but at least this Sancho Panza will get recognition. And as you know I do have a donkey too, but my donkey is what I call my pain. hasta luego Miguelito el gordo
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Day dreaming(c) By Michael CaseyApr 2, '11 12:56 PM
for everyone
Daydreams © By Michael Casey
Daydreams ©
By
Michael Casey
I was just looking at Rightmove.co.uk, its one of my dream sites, there I have my dreams. What would it be like to own this house or that house, would it be big enough for my growing girls, would I get a bathroom of my own?
Dorine used to say her dad in Normandy was so happy when he had his own bathroom, I would be just as happy myself. I am the only man in a three female plus one household. I bought a new chair from Argos the other day, mine had collapsed after 6 years, thanks to my girls wanting to sit with daddy when films were on, and yes daddy does look a bit like Shrek. So I bought a small 2 seater which is nice, only my girls have decided its just perfect for them, so I am relegated to the old and cold leather settee, my wife’s laughter is the only comfort.
So I look at Rightmove.co.uk for comfort, only what do I get only sadness, why, because the house of my dreams has been sold, not that I could afford it anyway but its good to dream. Our dad used to say if ever he won money he’d buy us all a house, so the concept no doubt springs from him, but he have us all a home, and that is built with Love so I laugh at myself as I look at the pretty houses. But IF I do win any money then a house it will be. There are lots up by the woods and only cost 3 times more than I’d get for my house, so winning the lottery or finally getting published is the only chance in hell that’ll I have. But strange things have happened in my life, luck and prayer do bring results, like my current job path.
So what’s my latest dream house? Well its up the road about a mile from where I am sitting and only twice as expensive as where I am now sat talking to you. It’s a nice large semi, or rather end of terrace, so by default a semi, with a garage too. So you could extend and make it bigger, if only you or rather I had the money. Hope springs eternal they say, so I hope that one day I will indeed have my dream house, what will it be and where will it be? God alone knows, but I will keep on dreaming, even if I have to wait 30 more years, and then I could be in an old people’s home, and all I’d have left would be dreams.
My daughters have vowed they’d visit me in the home, and one has even offered some numbers for tonight’s lottery, so on that note I’ll just pop out to the shops and see if I can make my dreams a reality, good luck everybody.
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Treasure for my GirlsMar 28, '11 4:14 PM
for everyone
Treasure for my girls ©
By
Michael Casey
My sister was having a clear out prior to having her bedroom redecorated, so she was throwing away years of treasure and assorted rubbish. I had myself throw out an old armchair as we were having a new one, normally Sky Burial takes my rubbish away, however after 2 days nobody has taken my old chair away.
There was a screech of brakes, my sister’s car came to a halt, she jumped out and hurled her rubbish onto my old armchair, with a wave she was gone. Monday is her choir practice so she had no time to waste, her tonsils were revving and ready to go, so she was gone. My daughters, her nieces dashed to the armchair in anticipation of treasure.
Once back inside our house, the pirates shared out the hoard, and what a good hoard it was. Clip on earrings in a variety of sizes and colours, necklaces of gold and silver, not forgetting broaches galore, one of which I recognised as a broach from an Irish Dancing shawl from 45years before. I could remember the jiggling and so forth, aunty had even won 4 medals, and when she had quit Irish Dancing the shawls were converted into curtains for the bathroom windows, our mum was a whiz on the sewing machine.
My girls shared out the treasure, singing the praises of the best aunty ever, so much treasure and it was all for them, not forgetting all the educational books you always get when your aunty is a teacher. Then my girls opened up shop as shop girls selling earrings and the like. Educational treasure that feed the imaginations, as well as the spirits, it could have been so easily thrown in the bin, but now it would have a new lease of life, thanks to the best aunty ever.
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My Dad My Best FriendMar 19, '11 4:54 PM
for everyone
My Dad My Best Friend ©
By
Michael Casey
My dad was my best friend, no I’m not boasting, he really was my best friend. How can I say that, well it all started with having a 2nd ice-cream when all my brothers and sisters only had one. When you buy 8
ice-creams for your family buying another 8 is expensive, even in 1960s England. I got an extra one and my siblings called me the “pet” as they were jealous, to tease me they sung the song Michael Rows The Boat ashore, my dad used to say “leave the boy alone.”
I suppose it was because I was the 5th child, the 5th child in 8 years and they were not expecting any more that I was spoilt a bit, and yes I did enjoy it. Dad always seemed to wear an old sports jacket and when he came back from his weekend trip to the pub after his week of being in the furnace, he always brought us back cheese and onion crisps in the blue bag. Dad really really loved us, as mum did too, I don’t know about other families but we knew we were loved, it wasn’t said and we didn’t hug loads, we were loved and we knew it. The sky is blue and the moon shines at night, it was as certain as that, we were loved.
I spent a lot of time talking to my dad, I was the penultimate one to leave home, we spent hours talking every night, we were both news junkies, or should I use today’s language, we love current affairs. We both loved Sir Robin Day the journalist, I still love journalists, we even have one in our Chinese family. Simple perhaps naïve pleasures, these bond you, glue you to your family. My dad also encouraged all of us to save, he wanted all of us to have a good start, we had lodgers and most loved drink too much, so leaning from their bad example we all saved for our futures.
“What’s a bit of food,” said dad as we stayed at home, modestly downplaying his influence, his role, his love for us.
“Do what you like but do your best,” was his simple yet sage advice when I asked what subjects to do at 3rd year split. His children went to the best universities in the world, they worked hard, we followed his example. Dad would and could work 16hours a day, he even worked 7 days a week at times, perhaps even for years. A Kerryman will walk into Hell for his children and for 40years that’s exactly what he did. I hear people complain about this and about that and it makes me smile, people should try working as hard as my dad did.
My father survived a “fatal” heart attack back in 1996, I’ve written about it in Padre Pio and Me, he even found me a wife and perhaps even a job, then he had his last breakfast then he died. I did visit him every single day for over 3 years, then I met my wife. Dad lived long enough to see me marry, only today we found a photo of him holding my daughter in his arms; 8 months later he died, he died 5 days after I’d found another job after a long bleak spell.
Do I miss him? No. The day he died I wept and howled like a tortured dog, but that’s normal. When my mother died I did not shed a single tear, I’d been ordered not to cry years before, so when mum died I shed no tears, she was in Paradise so I shed no tears. And what of now ? Dad’s in Heaven too, no doubt wearing a big thick coat, when you’re used to a furnace anywhere else can be cold, I hope he’s enjoying watching his 4 grandchildren growing up. I also believe he’s now met the Chinese side of the family and together they drink tea, both Chinese and English while they debate just how Irish or Chinese my girls look. The Chinese grandfather and the Chinese great-grandfather watch from Heaven and both will have to admit having some Irish blood is not a bad thing at all, at all at all.
2 Comments
The End Of The World As We Know It Mar 18, '11 7:23 PM
for everyone
The End Of The World As We Know It ©
By Michael Casey
The Earth shook and our lives were changed forever.
The Water came and washed away all our hopes
Leaving us only with Fears.
The power station was thirsty for water, but there was none there.
Our people fled orderly, our homes were gone, our roads were gone.
Washed away, Washed away.
We don’t deserve this, we don’t deserve this, the Emperor went on tv.
Our friends came to help us find our families, but they were gone,
But they were gone.
Our friends were gone, our homes were gone, the sea had come
But now it too was gone.
And what was left behind?
Broken houses, like broken matches spilt all over the place,
Nothing was the same, we awoke to a living nightmare, our beautiful country was smashed.
We had run in fear, now we were scattered around our land.
Slowly slowly the dragon had climbed Mount Fuji, the dragon had roared across our land.
And what of now?
Nagasaki and Hiroshima the nightmares from before had now returned as shadows to haunt us.
Our country lives on Satan’s fire, our beautiful Japan was now paying the price for its location.
Yet we still have love, Japan loves her own, our friends had come running to answer our call.
With Love we will again climb Mount Fuji, slowly slowly we will climb Mount Fuji.
Japan is a place of Love and Harmony, we will return, we will return.
With Love Japan will return, and again we will invite our friends for tea,
Because We are a Japanese Family.
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King James Bible and Spike Milligan ©Mar 12, '11 4:54 PM
for everyone
King James Bible and Spike Milligan ©
By
Michael Casey
Well I was just watching Melvyn Bragg and his King James Bible stories, previously I had watched the Spike Milligan tribute. Now they are odd bedfellows, Spike in bed with a King but Spike was a friend of a future king, so it’s not really an odd combination.
Both have a love of words at their core, one the love of divine words that move and should guide to the right path; the other nonsense which makes us laugh, but laughter is a divine gift and if you can make people laugh I feel that is a gift from God.
People steal God’s words and corrupt them to their own corrupt cause, how often do people of no faith say that religion is the cause of all evil.
This can be a feeble argument by feeble people who just could not be bothered to allow themselves to be touched by any God of any faith. So that is sad and tragic even, its very hard to shift them from the God/faith/religion is the root of all evil. Words are weapons:-
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?
And what of Comedy? Spike touched a generation, they say he was the grandfather of modern comedy. His nonsense inspired a new generation, nonsense poetry that Edward Lear would approve of was his forte. Is God in nonsense? Yes I think he is, our existence is such a mad mad mad thing, in Melvyn’s programme it took firm believers to investigate our place amongst the stars, The Royal Society did reach for the stars, God had the matches to start the fire. What is before and what is after that’s a big big thing, I just hold my daughter in my arms and we look up at the stars together on a freezing cold nights, only a fool would believe there is no creator to such Beauty.
The final guest in the show pondered that the human mind is not good enough to work out the majesty of life and the universe.
Spike is in heaven and God is teaching him more nonsense verse, perhaps God was a fan of Spike’s, in truth God is the fan of all of us, for God fanned the fires of our creation.
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My Horror WifeMar 11, '11 5:25 PM
for everyone
My Horror Wife ©
By
Michael Casey
I’m finishing off a bit of work on the computer while my wife watches horror films, horror films and films in general brought us together. When we met and before her English language skills emerged we used to watch films together, then we’d talk about the film we’d just watched, it was her speed of thought which made me realise she was indeed a clever cookie.
Some marry for looks, others marry for brains or money, me I was lucky I got both, though when I first met her she was wearing her scruffs. It was like something from Beauty and The Beast, I was the beauty and she was the beast, when she threw off her working clothes she did indeed look the beauty, she had been “hiding her pretty”. Then for the last decade everybody says I married her for her looks, which we know is rubbish, but convention says otherwise.
Horror films are in her blood, no she is not some Dracula, or bride of Dracula, she is bride of Panzi, Panzi being my Chinese name, it means Fat Fat Boy. As I talk to you the music from the horror film is rising to a crescendo, there is even a gasp of shock from my wife, she is indeed having fun, so all you need to satisfy your wife is a TV licence. Simple, the best things in life are just like that. Vincent Prince, Christopher Lee and the whole host of horror films on the Sky channels have helped cement our marriage; all you need is blood rat at tat tar, as the Beatles might sing, blood is all you need, blood is all you need.
However the creek on the stairs has just as much power, the menacing music, the shadows, the screams in the night, they too have so much power, a howling in the dark, the sound of the dustbins being knocked over. It’s the fox in our garden again, or the squirrels fighting over their nuts. A scream is coming from our living room, first it’s the tv and then it’s the wife, scream and scream again. It’s the wife screaming as I’ve just trod on her toe as I pass by on the way to the fridge, writing makes me thirsty, Netto milk is the answer.
So on into the night she waits for her frights, I may creep up behind her and say “BOO” just for fun, so its another normal night for the Chinese Caseys, and yes we really are related to the Adams Family.
Don’t forget to check under the bed before you go to sleep.
0 Comments
English LiteratureMar 4, '11 7:58 AM
for everyone
English Literature
As usual the DT won’t let me comment in the right place.
English Literature back in 74/75 was horrible, because it destroyed the book we were reading, too much over analysis, a line by line interpretation just bores kids. In my year at Grammar school 30 of use did Eng Lit while 60 were spared. No blood was painted over any lintels or anything like that, but Eng Lit then was hard.
I think kids/students should be given a couple of weeks to read the book/plays/whatever first, then once they have read the books then they can begin to study them. Back then nobody read the book first it was a line by line “decoding”, which was/is wrong. We did Henry IV part I, Prince Hal and Falstaff, all good fun, I remember saying in an essay that Hal “was a bit of a lad”, not much different from the current one.
You have to enjoy something first, then you can study it afterwards, its seems the DT crowd forget their own experience of Eng Lit. When you are in love you have a passion, at a funeral you may say/explain why you liked somebody; the colour of your wife’s hair, the way she tilted her head to one side when she didn’t believe you, the scent of a woman. All of these things colour your view. I went to a Shakespeare play 20 years after I finished school and I struggled to understand the language because I’d forgotten it. Shakespeare in Love and modern films bring Shakespeare back to us. If people see a good film then they may take the plunge and go to the theatre, the bitter pill has to be sweetened.No doubt my last sentence will be over analysed and the wrong meaning glued to it, some DT readers do that and I lament it. If a poem is read and it touches the heart then people will want more of the same, there’s some poetry on my site, one of which really touched our local Vicar, but the same thing can be dumped on big time by a DT reader. Why such a divergence? People bring their own baggage to what they read instead of just reading it, then they destroy the meaning, its like pulling out wild flowers and then arranging them badly in a vase.
I went back and reread all of the Don Camillo and after 25years and more the joy in the tale was there for me, I hope we can all agree that there should be joy in what we are reading; ditto with Eng Lit teaching, we should be bringing joy to the students, if that is lacking then we should find a better teacher.
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A life in a bagMar 3, '11 8:06 AM
for everyone
A Life in a bag ©
By
Michael Casey
One of our neighbours died the other day, she was an old lady with white hair, the kind of nice old lady you see in the street. She used to have meals on wheels, I could see another nice lady deliver them to her door. I could see the old lady’s children and grandchildren come and visit. But now she is dead.
I’ve grown up with death, so I have no fear of it, its another journey, perhaps even like jumping into a swimming pool, you just have to hold your breath and jump right in. We had an undertakers at the bottom of our road, and as an altar boy I served at over 30 funerals, the Funeral Mass is the one with the best reading, Lazarus and all that. Jesus loved Lazarus so much that he raised him from the dead, Eternity will be like that for all of us. Well apart from the atheists, who just won’t believe it, so they’ll stay in some sort of waiting room, Florida perhaps?
When somebody dies its like a punch in the stomach, your dad cannot be gone, you love him too much, it can’t be true; it is and you pine like some sick dog for hours.
I have never cried for my mother, she told us all no crying, so that’s what I did, I obeyed her.
You have to clear up after the dead, their home, their possessions have to be sorted and even divided. As you go through the house, the flat, the one room bed sit you see their life fall before you. Are they really like that, did they really do this, all kind of everything are revealed. A secret drinker, a collection of spicy videos, or just 6 Bibles all lined up; the dead have no secrets, they are as naked as the day they were born.
I’ve had to clear up, and help clear up several times, we had lodgers you see, so we had to act as family and tidy everything up; sometimes even finding forgotten Wills and then following them to the letter. Sending Home a couple of bodies, people want to rest in their own clay; when my time comes there are 3 local cemeteries where I could end up. Burial is best, I don’t want to be burnt, I’m big the fire brigade would have to be ready.
As I look out the window I can see a life being tidied up, everything is still raw for them, you see this, you touch that, a photo or some treasure brings the memories flooding back. When the tears are over you still have them, I tell my kids our love is in them, mum and me made them, they are part of us, so they’ll never lose us. As the possessions are taken from the house over the road a life ebbs away, the character of the house is changing, I’ve seen all this before, I’ve cleared up, I know how it feels.
A chair or an old radio is taken away, its useful and you’ll remember gran/dad/mom/your brother when you use the thing, but the thing is full of love because of who it belonged to.
Finally you’ve finished and the house is empty, the house is dead, soon the house will be sold. Soon the life of the owner is gone, the house is empty, but once the new owner and family arrives the house will have a new life, it’s a home again. Then new life is restored, all that remains are a couple of carrier bags found forgotten in a pantry, you give them to the charity shop, at least somebody will get a bargain.
1 Comment
Kodak Printer/Scanner/Copier Review Feb 2011Feb 27, '11 8:48 AM
for everyone
Kodak Printer/Scanner/Copier Review Feb 2011
First of all Kodak has not paid me to say this. I needed a new printer as ours had died, it was an old Epson which was fine, but all it did was print. We had a separate scanner that scanned, and all it did was scan.
Now if you have small children as we do you just have to print out Winnie the Pooh all the time, not forgetting the occasional fairy or two. So your printer gets used as a toy add on, then after 8 years it just dies. Which I suppose is a long life for a printer.
We are lucky as we have Sky Burial in our street, all you have to do is leave old unwanted stuff in the street by your entry and then the birds take it away. Though not by pecking as in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, no folks in need come an take unwanted and unloved stuff away. I actually furnished one neighbours house. He had a pine double bed, a Toshiba Tv, a giant chair that could convert into a lounger/bed and a few other bits and pieces. All of which with a bit of TLC could last a few years more, sounds like a Clint Eastwood film.
Before I buy anything I always do my research on the Internet, then I can see what’s good and what’s rubbish. Having done my research I can then decide if its Currys or Comet or Argos or even from the Internet itself. Then I buy my stuff and George Osborne gets his 20% and then everybody is happy. I scrolled through the Reviews and in the main they were great for the Kodak, and the Gadget Show was full of praise for it too. Then you see some very negative reviews, you waver because you cannot afford to make a bad choice. When I was in hotels we were told a bad experience is magnified by 10, people will tell 10 friends just how rubbish they think you or your product is. If things go well, which they do 95% of the time, then you may get a fourfold increase in compliments for a good/great event. Which is why you have to work so hard to make sure you are hitting the target 99.9% of the time. Bad news travels faster than good news in those ratios.
Now back to the Kodak, it is very noisy as the reviews say. BUT you get two ribbons with it inside the box, which cost £18 to buy separately. So for your £70 you get cartridges as well as the printer, its not just a printer but also a scanner and a copier. I should stop using the ribbon word it shows my age, printers used to have ribbons which were like scrolls, but I’m harking back to 1978 when I was still a teenager. As for the Kodak you do not get a USB cable, that is disappointing and Kodak should include one as well as the two cartridges. In one of my local shops I saw cheap ones for between 2 and 4 quid, I bought one and it cost £12, if I knew beforehand I’d have taken a chance on a cheap cable. The best I’ve left till last, you really can print 400 pages on one black cartridge, 400 pages for 7quid, now that is a bargain and that’s with the ribbon included with the Kodak.
All in all I would say buy the Kodak all in one printer/copier/scanner there’s also some facility to focus on a face in the middle of text when you are scanning. I still need to work out how to use that facility. So visit your local Argos and get a Kodak, there is one thing I do need remind you about, you have to feed the paper in correctly its fussy on that matter. Marks out of ten 9/10
michaelgcasey.multiply.com
1 Comment
www.googleartproject.comFeb 3, '11 2:21 PM
for everyone
www.googleartproject.com
I just read the pieces in the DT about http://www.googleartproject.com I had a look and I was amazed. My mother gave me a print on cardboard when I was 10 or so, this got me interested in “art”, I still have that print on my wall, though it is now not the only art on my walls.
Google’s art project is a wonderful idea and the quality of the paintings I’ve seen so far is great, they should mention it to schools, it could open a few minds, being dragged around a gallery is a pain for kids. But a few lessons using hi tech to show kids what painting is all about now that is fabulous, and I never exaggerate for effect. Andrew Graham-Dixon has opened my mind now lets hope Google can open a few more minds.
photo is my daughter and her best friend, a princess.
0 Comments
An Early Valentine Poem for all you old romantics out thereJan 31, '11 1:44 PM
for everyone
You're Never Alone When You Are in Love ©
By
Michael Casey
Love is being together , Love is a smile , a Look , A Touch
Or Just A Sigh , Not really knowing why you chose one another .
Yet Together Till You Die
Love is a Kiss soft and gentle on the cheek which warms your
heart and makes you glad you chose one another .
A Kiss can lead to more but I'll leave Passion locked Safely
behind a bedroom door
Passion spent you'll not give up each not even for Lent .
You'll just lie in warm embrace and remember you forgot to say
grace .
Whispers and Promises are made , plans for the future and if
she put her hair this way , Do you think it would suit her ?
Then giggles and more embraces , Till the Night is over and with
a dig in the ribs you make him move over .
Then your oneness complete , you have to put up with his cold feet !
But when you are apart your hearts are still one ,
Thought half is absent you are still one .
His socks under the bed , and after what you said .
His "toys" scattered about , and the clout you'll give when he
returns and the warmth of your body he yearns .
His cold feet to chill you after he thrills you , are absent yet the
thought makes you smile , at least you have the comfort for a while.
His grins and leers , which makes you smile at least you'll have
peace for a while .
But his heart is still with you , the love is always there - as
bright as your fair hair .
Close your eyes and he is still there , Remember the embrace as
he played his fingers across your face .
Let your dreams go and remember the whispers in your ear, warm
kisses on your shoulder before he gets bolder . The warmth of love
that soars through your blood .
Dream long , Dream deep , your Man toils while you sleep, though
you are apart you are still together whatever the weather , for you
are never apart for he is locked in your heart .
Though sometimes he can be trying , there's Never any need of
crying for your love is Undying.
Always remember he fills your heart even when you are apart
End
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A New Beginning Or Going Around in CirclesJan 30, '11 2:05 PM
for everyone
A friend revealed he had an angina attack, made me wonder about my own mortality. I've been putting off writing Tears For A Butcher for a number of years. I didn't want to start something and then not finish it if I got sidetracked. Or why add to my collection of writing if finding a publisher was so difficult.
I have produced 3 books, 2 being collections of pieces:-
Essays and Plays
plus
MichaelGCasey'sBlogs2011
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker being my comic novel
So why Have I decided to resume Tears For A Butcher? Well these past 18 months I've done loads of blogging, enough for a book. So I just wondered could I get back in the groove as far as novel writing was concerned. SO chapter one of Tears For A Butcher was written years ago, and I've got ideas for several chapters and the big finale. So indirectly because of my friend I'm going to see where the ideas take me. Chapter2 is called Old People's Home, I do know a fair bit about Old People's Homes having visited my dad every single day for 3 years and then very often for 2,5 more years. I also wrote a play called Revolution set in an old people's home, I did not actually finish that play, but the ideas won't be wasted. Last night I did a bit of thinking and the first page was nailed. Today I've done some more thinking and so the chapter is nearly fully formed in my imagination. I do write comedy so I have to have a left of field view on things. Once I have the idea the writing is very fast. But I'll not be forcing myself, just enjoying it, as I do with my blogs.
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The Trouble With TechnologyJan 26, '11 3:35 PM
for everyone
The trouble with Technology (c)
By
Michael Casey
The trouble with technology is that we all use it, now if we just left it all alone then we all have no problems . Simple really but we all just can't leave it alone, we all just have you use it . In the beginning if we wanted water we'd fetch the bucket and drop it down a well. My mother was born just 30feet from the sea , but they were fortunate because they had their own well , so they went outside and dropped the bucket down the well and then they had water . Then technology comes along and we just turn a tap and we have clean water instantly . We have hot water too , at the turn of a tap . In one generation so many changes . However technology then works against us , because we assume it will always work and that there will be no problems
We don't even know where the stopcock is , so our homes flood and then we discover we are not covered by our insurance .
My mother grew up with an oil lamp hanging above , no luxury of gas lamps for her , as for electricity , that was just a dream . Nowadays how could any society manage without electricity , its impossible to believe life without electricity . No tv , no radio , no freezers , no street lighting , no traffic lights, the list goes on and on . As for indoor plumbing , the luxury of a hot bath , the WC in the home . My mother grew up with no indoor plumbing , if you needed the bathroom as the American's say , then you'd leave the house and pick your spot in a field with the cows gazing on , as for toilet paper you had a blade of grass to wipe your %^** . As for me we did not have such hardships , we had an outside WC , which we did not have to share with any other family , just 8 Caseys sharing our outside bog/toilet . There was a yard light to illuminate the way and a light in the toilet too . Which was sheer luxury compared to my mum's and my dad's childhoods . My dad would always come home and immediately switch off the yard light because it was wasting electricity . Then a shout would go up "Put the light on" , and my dad would always say "I didn't know" . Then there was the indignity of running out of paper . My brother Tony had a very good sense of humour so it was always the case that I'd shout from the yard "More Bog Roll" which is the English slang for toilet paper . Tony was kind so he'd always bring out a fresh supply of paper , only he liked to tease so he'd push one sheet , just one sheet of paper under the door and say that's all there was in the house , and that mom said I'd have to use my finger . Then he'd go away laughing . He always left a full roll of paper on the doorstep , much to my relief .
Simple technology , we all take for granted , water and electricity . What does all this technology do for us ? It gives us independent comfortable lives , we have clean water , hot water , light and warmth . Then with the miracle of TV we can all watch the world go by , from the comfort of our homes , or the local bar whichever is our true home . We are now a global village as has often been said , but then we become anti social as its easier to watch tv than to interact with real people , we'd rather watch fiction on tv than have a real life . But with technology we can send an email to our neighbour across the road , with pictures and video , rather than leave our castle homes , rather than going over for a coffee and a bar of chocolate .That's one view the optimistic view says that we truly can break down barriers by using the miracle of email to keep us connected though we are thousands of miles apart . I have to hold my hand up and admit that I am an email Junky , I did send up to 5 emails a day to my friend in another part of the office , because we were both having fun . Then when I fell in love with my one true love it was ONLY because of the miracle of email that our love survived .I sent my girlfriend long long emails everyday for 6 months . She was in Shanghai while I was in Birmingham . My heart was breaking with love and hope until finally she came back to me . I'd come home from work at 3am and hit the keyboard , with luck because of the time difference we'd actually be live and talking almost in real time .You cannot imagine how heart rending it was to come home to an email , to get up in the afternoon and read an email before going on night shift .I think whoever invented email should be made a saint, without email our love would not have lasted . An exchange of letters takes 14 days from Birmingham to Shanghai , so thank God for email and God himself KNOWS just how much I mean that , Sainthood is not high enough reward for the inventor of email .Is it Saint Bill Gates ? The telephone is fantastic , but too expensive , I know my phone bill reached 4 figures , but an email can be read over and over again , and even printed off , so it is a letter.
So I confess email is the most important leap in technology of the 20th Century , as far as I am concerned .
The next stage in the technology story are mobile phones that send/receive video and tv , so we are literally wired up where ever we are in the world science fiction becoming science fact . We all used empty match boxes to pretend we were Captain Kirk communicating to the Enterprise but now they are here for real . If you have been in a theatre,church,hospital and these things bleep you have to decide for yourself are they useful or just a real pain in the *&^% . On balance they are good , but people have to be a lot more considerate , nobody else wants to hear their conversations if they are in church or at the theatre or even cinema . I remember a conversation I had at dinner on Xmas Eve just gone , the guy sat next to me happen to design mobile phones , he was very very good at his job , but I did warn caution about saturation point being reached . Then today 4months on , I am proved right , the mobile giants are in trouble , why , because of saturation point now being reached .
I don't want to end on low note , so I'll tell another anecdote , we all remember when we had our first colour tv , how wonderful it was and how we all marvel and the colours . The BBC started showing snooker because of the colours , and now tv without snooker would be unimaginable . Then remote control came in , so we'd try different positions and even outside the house and through the glass into the room where the tv was . Technology makes us all like children , its supposed to be a triumph of engineering and technology but really its our greatest toy , and our greatest joy . On Saturday my dad will come out of the old peoples home to spend the day with me and my Chinese wife in our home . I'll be able to show him the internet and I hope I can bring tears of joy to his eyes as I show him County Kerry on the computer monitor . Sitting in my living room in Birmingham he can read the Irish newspapers and see his homeland where he started as a blacksmith in the 1930s . This is how we should be using technology .
End
20/4/2001
Well this piece is ten years old now, where have the years frown to
I'm still hoping finally I'll find a publisher or a newspaper that'll find space for me. Rupert Murdoch can give me a job.
photo is from 11years ago. Meet my inlaws
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PantomimeJan 22, '11 7:24 PM
for everyone
Pantomime (c)
By
Michael Casey
I was at a Panto earlier tonight, I was wondering how you explain a Panto to a foreigner. My wife a Shanghai girl has been to one but in the main it confused her. So me and the kids go to Panto while she stays at home and watches Phoenix the Chinese channel.
To start with a man dresses up as a woman, a badly dressed woman at that. A woman dresses up as a man and slaps her thighs all the time, and her thighs are always strapping, and what does strapping mean? Then there’s a cat who’s really a girl all dressed up. Then there’s a cow who can dance, just what kind of grass has the cow been eating? Maybe a horse thrown in too, now this horse could never win a race, and no jockey would every ride such a horse. I used to be a trainee betting shop manager so can you imagine the kind of odds I’d give on a Pantomime horse in a race against a cow, perhaps we’d only give 5 beans, and that would turn into a Beanstalk.
On the subject of Fairies just why are they so cheerful? Are they drinking real ale before they appear in a flash of fireworks, and as for the wicked witch why did she have a Russian accent tonight, a kind of deep throaty voice, almost like a man, a kind of Cruela de Ville but with more sequins. And just how do they learn to scream “AHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” and all manner of evil sounds. Is there a kind of evil choirmaster who teaches evil witches how to croak and scream etc. Do they have an evil hymn sheet and they practice. Then and only then can they become evil witches in Pantomime, or perhaps you have to pass a GCSE in all things evil before you can strut the stage. Oh yes you do, oh no you don’t, oh yes you do, oh no you don’t. Its all so confusing, no wonder my Shanghai wife stays home.
Dancers dance and there is a musician slaving away over 2 keyboards, he is down in the pits, why is it called pits anyway? Did the musician used to be a miner? Its all so confusing, oh yes it it, oh no it isn’t. but I tell you oh yes it is. Now dancers are good and they throw themselves into it, or if you are a girl then there are boys who throw you around, they dancers twirl how they don’t get dizzy I’ll never know, do they practice in the park on the roundabout, dancers strapped to roundabouts for hours on end, then they get a certificate to prove they can dance and twirl and swing in Pantomime. They get Cadburys as a reward.
Singing is a big thing in Panto, me I can only sing “I was born under a big brown cow, a big brown cow” because that’s what my siblings used to sing to me when I was a child. Chorus songs are sung and the audience joins in, and as a reward the cast throws things at you, luckily its sweets. So imagine you are from Shanghai and I just explained all this to you, would you want to see a Panto?
Oh yes I would, oh no I wouldn’t, oh yes I would, I’m all confused now, not Confucius.
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I want to be a chat show hostJan 19, '11 3:12 PM
for everyone
I want to be a chat show host ©
By
Michael Casey
Piers Morgan takes over at CNN, so I thought about the chat show hosts I know, I know 40years of chat show hosts. No I’m not 95 but I started watching our square 2 channel black and white tv when I was maybe 5.
I remember Simon Dee and Dee Time, this was at the end of the Sixties, when Ali was king and we watch the Americans head for the moon. Dee used to give a quick flash of Fairy Liquid to the camera because it was NOT allowed on the BBC then. Advertising on the BBC was strictly forbidden.
Michael Parkison was the best because he was a journalist, and he did not talk over his guests. There is nothing worse than an interviewer talking over a guest, we the viewers want to hear what the guest has to say. I don’t want to hear the interviewer drone on about himself. Yes he may have been there, yes he too may have had sex while hot air ballooning, he too may have had to canoe to safety from terrorists who wanted to kill him. Yes he too may have broke the bank at Monte Carlo or Vegas. And he too had the final phone call from Monroe. BUT if the interviewer is so interesting he should have made a film about himself and won The Palme d'Or
At Cannes.
An interview should be like a confession, a one sided event with some gentle encouragement from your confessor. Sadly this is not the case nowadays. Especially on US tv, it really does disservice to the Art of Interviewing. And I do believe it is an art. I’ve also had years of listening to Radio Four in all its incarnations. A good interviewer is a listener, not a talker. I’ve done my fair share of talking and listening, especially in my days as a concierge. You keep folks happy and when their friends approach you disappear like morning mist, your job is over, let people get on with it.
If only today’s interviewers knew what their job was, that’s the main problem they are building up their part. Now we have Z list people interviewing other Z list people, and talking over each other, so what does the audience do? They buy 2 million copies of their latest masterpiece, or do the just switch off. Me I switch off. But I will say I am available for interviews…………….
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How do you dieJan 17, '11 5:21 PM
for everyone
How do you die?
By
Michael Casey
I read an article tonight in the DT, it really got me thinking. I was interrrupted by by my 7 year old daughter coming down to say goodnight again and to pull faces in the mirror behind me. So I gave her a drink of milk and she gave me a kiss goodnight and then she went to bed again, happy with her thirst gone. I was happy too, for every goodnight kiss is a priceless thing. I stop to mention this because the article was about Ovarian Cancer and it talked about the lack of tact doctors have when telling somebody they are to die, the doctors cannot do anything for the patient.
Now back in 1996 my mum died peacefully in her sleep, my brother had ran around and climbed into the bed and held her in his arms and tried the kiss of life. But hertime was up, she had died in the bed he was born in. 8 bare weeks later my brother, the same brother hear a noise, our dad had fallen out of bed, again my brother tried CPR, this time he laid our dad down on the bedroom floor. He saved our dad.
Now dad was given one week to live and we even picked hymns for his funeral, however I believe Padre Pio saved him. In total our dad lived 5 and half years more. And I met a Shanghai girl and now have 2 children.
Now there a a couple of things we all need to think about, does faith change outcome? In America that had teams praying for sick folks and there seemed to be reason to believe that those who were prayed for got better faster. Positive people seem to get better faster, or live longer if they are living a death sentence. If you are negative and a depressive, say your name is Victor Meldrew then you will take longer to get better and if you are facing a death sentence you will reach your grave sooner.
We all rmember the lady who did all the sports and was determined to make a difference before she died. Motivation can make all the difference to a situation. If you are scared stiff of dying then you will suffer horrors. My own dad was in hospital at Dudley Rd for 12 weeks, when he "recovered" he said he really suffered. When you're on diamorphine and all manner of stuff I imagine you get horror movie level of dreams until the veil is parted and you return to the light. Being trapped in your mind must be like being in Hell itself.
Something in your mind leads you out of your sickness. I believe the prayers of family and priests DO help too. When the final curtain becons attitude does make a difference. I know somebody who says "I hate death, or I'm affraid of death." Me I don't have that fear, when my mother died I did not even cry because my mum always said "Don't cry" so I fgollowed her instructions. I did whelp like a puppy dog 5.5years later when my dad finally died. But to my point, I am lucky I inherited my mum's Faith when she died, not because I'm in any way pious, rather because it was the thing that I needed most. So don't be affraid of death, just don't even think about if. Death is not worth listening too, sure we will all die, but a life lived well is what we should be concentrating on. Even if we are racked with pain and on diamorphine, we can all enjoy the flowers. Yes you will all condemn me, but I reply if we can add a little sunshine to our own lives and to those who are on the final stretch then that will be a good thing.
My other daughter just came down for a goodnight kiss and to remind/nag me to tuck her in and give her another goodnight kiss. These simple things are tokens of love and I pray everybody who reads this will agree with me, a family united in love is the best way to live life until this life ends.
My two girls
2 Comments
Reaching ZenJan 14, '11 12:02 PM
for everyone
Reaching Zen ©
By
Michael Casey
How do you get somewhere? You open your door and walk down the street, you may be going shopping for sugar, or you may be popping into church for a chat with God.
You could be feeling lucky and go to Stanley Racing to have a 50p bet, at least smoking is banned now.
To catch the train to Hogworts in Harry Potter you go to platform 9 ¾ and then away you go on a journey. The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker is set in Old Forge and Singing Anvil which is a magical place somewhere in the Black Country. So how do you get there? Well its easy, you just go to the pub. The Bear Tavern just 5 mins away from where I’m talking to you.
Before you go inside the Bear just pop into the pharmacy and buy a big bottle of perfume, as an apology to your girl. Inside The Bear you ask for 17pints and packet of cheese and onion crisps. The crisps will soak up the 17pints. If you don’t like alcohol or 17 pints is too much then just have 17 pints of cola. There is no time limit. Once the 17pints have been drunk and you’ve finished picking your teeth you are free to leave.
Outside your head will spin at first, but in seconds, you’ll wonder where you are as the familiar Bearwood Rd will have disappeared and as for the bear’s head and the stone carved bears’ heads on top of the Bear Tavern all will have vanished.
Then your head stops spinning and you are on a different street of shops, you are on, well I cannot tell you the name of the street you have to read the book. You are though standing outside The Trader and now all 17pints and the cheese and onion crisps are forgot so you go inside for a drink, just one. The Trader is a real ale bastion in fact Camra just put “I cried” in its listing, it was that good. Wayne the landlord has a secret in the cellar, it’s a stash of 40 or even 60 year old malt whisky. He stumbled over the hidden stash when he was renovating his pub,
Now if you like your cafes then there is one just down the road from the Trader, Mark and Gillian got fed up of working in 5 stars, they wanted to see their diners, so they came back home to Old Forge and Singing Anvil where they set up shop, or rather opened a café. Yes you can park your wagon and get a great bacon butty, Big Sid provides the meat and Patrick provides the bread. However with all their skill you are eating Michelin standard food in a small back street of Old Forge and Singing Anvil.
This is just a peek of Old Forge and Singing Anvil, home to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. All you need is imagination and 17 pints of lager and one packet
of cheese and onion crisps.
1 Comment
Michael Casey 007Jan 12, '11 5:00 PM
for everyone
Michael Casey 007
By Michael Casey
I had a security pass with 007 on it, so it got me thinking. What if I was in a Bond film. There will be a new film and Daniel Craig will be the man again.
Could I be a baddie? No I couldn’t possible do that, I mean I don’t look like a baddie do I? My girls wouldn ‘t like it either, daddy couldn’t possible be a baddie, and as for the wife, I was her Panzi after all. Panzi meaning Fat Fat Boy in Chinese.
So what could I be in a James Bond film? I could carry his bags, I did work in a 4star business hotel for 3 years. So I have the practice. I could carry James Bond’s bags up to his room and knock a few things over, or spill things on James Bond and try to wipe him down with a towel, so James Bond pushes me over the balcony into the pool.
Then the next day Bond lounging by the pool, and me/the porter trips over him so Bond throws me in the pool again. Later in the day I knock his Aston Martin with my trolley, so I get thrown in the pool again.
Finally I/the porter annoys him again, so this time he shoots me. And Bond says “I never believed in tipping.”
Now if Lee Evans is not available for the above then I’d do it. Wouldn’t we all love to be in a Bond film, just think how much they could charge for the privilege.
3 Comments
As These Tears FallJan 9, '11 8:23 AM
for everyone
As These Tears Fall ©
by Michael Casey
As these tears fall, we remember we have been here before.
As these tears fall, the love we feel hurts so much more.
As these tears fall, we are stunned and don't know what to say.
As these tears fall, we must remember them all.
As these tears fall, we think of the smiles.
As these tears fall, we remember the laughter.
As these tears fall, we remember the kisses.
As these tears fall, we touch their things that will never be used again.
As these tears fall, we finish ironing the shirt or the trousers that will never be worn again.
As these tears fall, we feel a hole in our heart that aches so much.
As these tears fall, we remember their touch, comforting and more.
As these tears fall, we are heartbroken for our lost futures.
As these tears fall, we give thanks for what we did have.
As these tears fall, love carries on, we will meet again.
1 Comment
Facebook and MeJan 4, '11 2:51 PM
for everyone
Facebook and Me
Well I have to declare an interest, I think Facebook is overrated. I’m on Facebook but I don’t really use it. I’m on Twitter too and I don’t really know how that works either.
Yes its great to stay in touch but to say somebody thinks Facebook is worth billions is STUPID. One figure I read in the DT was that it would mean a single ad was worth $100, multiplying up the number of users and how much revenue could be harvested if they all bought in to the advertising. When I watch tv I always put the kettle on during the ads, or switch channels to watch something else even if its the weather for the 20th time in a day, its preferable to adverts.
Talking of adverts www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com is my site where my comic novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker can be read as well as a collection of essays and plays, not to mention a collection of blogs all of which will make you laugh. Now if what I’ve just said was on Facebook would people read my advert and then go to my site, and then find me a publisher and then PAY for my 3 books. NO is the answer so far.
So what of Facebook? Its full of stuff, you can even comment on George Bush’s book. As I and thousands of people have done. In the end Facebook is fun, but will you watch all their ads and buy all the stuff thats there. I know I won’t its irritating in the extreme all these ads. If you are googling stuff and then the ads show stuff similar then that’s not so bad, BUT if you’re doing social networking then you are social networking, I don’t want a loan or a holiday or any other rubbish, just leave me alone.
Now the investment bankers are investing, but didn’t they invest in C*&^% loans in Deep South Property and we all know what happened there. Another South Sea Bubble beckons, and when it happens don’t you wish you followed my advice and read a book instead
