Short stories from Birmingham readers in 162 countries so far
HEAR ME READ ALOUD
207 stories written & read by me
https://profile.typepad.com/michaelgcasey
https://michaelgcasey.typepad.com/blog/
Now I could write a learned piece on 2020 Uproar, 1848 was a year of Revolutions too, but nobody would listen. There is too much anger and steam in the air. Yes justifiable too, but at the moment the pressure has to be released.
Then like a good Peacemaker I'd get you all to sit down and eat together, or I'd make you all do a task to prepare the table for the meal. Some would wash the dishes, others would lay the table with the now sparkling dishes. Others would trim the wick on the candles, while others polished the candelabra.
Others would plumb up the cushions on the chairs, while others tightened the screws on the old chairs, so that the heavy weights would not break the chairs. Perhaps a lick of varnish would be applied too, everything had to be made ready for the guests. A freshly woven table cloth with doves embroidered on it would be placed on the table first before the table was laid expertly, everything had to be perfect.
In the kitchen the Enchilada is being made, the biggest and strongest and maybe the angriest guest is asked to slice and dice lime and then squeeze it into the mix, then his muscles are used to mix in the cheese and he must keep on mixing, as the smallest and weakest among the guest watches over him. Team work must be the order of the day. No lip, no attitude, no anything from anybody, they are guests in a special place, so they must all be on their best behaviour.
Then children bring the dishes to table, as the guests all sit down. Time and care has been taken to make this an exceptional meal. Everything has been thought of and everybody is welcome, the table is groaning with specialities from all Nations, from all people. As the guests look they realise this is the most amazing feast every, the greatest celebration ever.
This takes place in the square where the church, the mosque, the temple and more meet. This is Peace Square. The guests are instructed to eat in silence, as they eat children sneak up, the children sit on the knee of the adults. All the children sat everywhere, no barriers, no segregation. Just as Michael Casey sat on Moses' knee as a child, Moses being a big black man with golden teeth, this was maybe 58 years ago.
So now the children chatter and are excited, the grown ups as requested eat in silence. And as they eat silent tears fall. The children have educated the grown ups, as has the Good Samaritan who organised the meal in the square. The meal goes on a long time, the children grow tired and fall asleep. The grown ups look at the Samaritan and finally understand. The children are passed till they reach their own parents, and then with every grown up holding their child they leave the table, tears still falling but they are smiling.
Now how I wrote this I really do not know, let's just say God is Good as my Kerry mum always said. She too had a very humble birthplace. But we all have one final destination, lets try and get there in harmony and love.
1920 Kerry Eire mum's birthplace, later a cow shed for 4 cows
Before I
begin I’ll remind you 4 of the 6 of us were teachers, despite dad’s teacher
saying to my dad in 1920/30s Kerry Ireland, one day Casey you will Hang. Me, I
was just an Esol English teacher for a year, gaining Excellent, Excellent and
Exemplary on my External assessment. Just so you know I’m not a Mickey Mouse
person. Otherwise I am a “failure” with 1,615,138 Words to my name after 33
years of writing. So many words in fact that I’ve reached the limit on what the
Word processor can handle. Though I doubt anybody else in the world has a 8241
page file, it’s all my stuff dumped together if you are wondering. Or it could
be a list of Trump lies.
Now
today I’m going to tell you how to get everybody back to school. You can adapt
these thoughts, but just do it, as the phrase on a Tee shirt says. As some folks
may not have wifi, even though I must have it for 20years now in some form or
another, this is how to reach everybody.
Everybody
does have a tv, and digital tv is the thing. These are loads of channels, so
you grab 13 channels, one for each year group. You put a smart phone on a
selfie stick and show the teacher. The feed via WhatsApp goes to a studio where
it is then broadcast on the digital frequency for that year group. It’s basically
as simple as that. We also have the RED button where you can split or add on
extra channels. I could elaborate, but it really is that simple. You can have
the feed repeated 24/7 on each channel, or added to the iplayer, so the
classroom is available for a month or so. This really is a low tech solution,
and it works. It’s like getting the Army to use morse again when satellites go
dowm. Or in WWII Red Indians speaking their Native tongues helped beat the
Japanese, because no way on God’s earth could it be intercepted.
You can
waste time arguing the toss, just like the lost 3 years, when Politicians tried
to disobey the will of the people over the EU thing. Whatever way you then
thought. So now as it appears that Covid19 is less likely to kill schoolkids, I
even read being struck by lightning is more likely, we can use a low tech
solution. Put the classroom live on tv, on 13 digital channels. You can dress
it all up, but it really is that simple. Because as BBC TV licencing will tell
you, everybody has a tv, well apart from my brother who repeatedly got asked
about his non-existent tv.
If teachers
are afraid, that’s fair enough, we could dress the teachers up like robots in
PPE, and some kids may say their teacher’s teaching skills are robotic, and yes
I can hear the howl from teachers already. But everybody has to be creative,
and expecting the Government to do everything is both Naïve and Stupid. Everybody
needs to be creative, for the kids’ sake, or do you want a 200 questionnaire
written out in triplicate first. Common sense and a can do attitude works wonders.
Britain as well as being A Nation of Shopkeepers, which was the original title
for The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, is a Nation of Inventors. Usually
the Americans buy up the idea and make the money. Now is the time to think like
a child, because they have Imagination. We have playgrounds, put tented classrooms
in the playgrounds. Blacks may even donate, or event companies. At least two
classrooms can be put in the average playground, or can I hear they where will
the kids play? This is a crisis time, in the War, Don’t you know there’s a war
on? This was heard when folks moaned. It’s time to stop moaning and bitching,
and put the Great back into Britain.
Of course I always look my best, my very best, with my stubble and breadcrumbs hanging from my mouth. If you don’t believe me the just look at today’s photograph. I need a haircut too, I was going to lie in the grass and get a quick short back and sides as the good neighbour was cutting the lawn. But I resisted the temptation, though at this point in my life I’ll give in to all temptations. Though none are offered, maybe it’s the way I look?
So, what about you? Do you always look your best? Or are you, a take me as I am man, or woman? If none of us bothered then the Beauty Industry would be out of business. My old pen friend Jana was actually in a Euro Advert for Dove soap. She was stopped in the street and that led to the advert shown Euro wide. She is Czech after all, and twenty years ago when I visited Czech I did notice lots of beautiful people. Though now I just live with them, as my daughters are very pretty, it’s the Birmingham/Shanghai mixed blood you know.
But where was I? Sat here scratching my stubble, and why is stubble so scratchy? Answer that and you can have a prize, a photo of me in shades all stubbled up, or you can just look online and I can save on postage. Men are the scruffiest of all, with stains on their track suits from where they spilt their tea, or just peed down the side of their leg while on the toilet. Do they not know how to aim, they should sit at all times, and then their track suits wouldn’t be as stained. And certainly not as smelly. Wives and girlfriends wash their lads’ stuff in the same wash as the dog’s blanket, and their incontinent granny’s stuff. So as not to pollute the rest of the family’s fancy clothes, all the way from Primark.
I just paused for a day while I showered and shaved, so I look slightly better than the latest photograph from yesterday. I like my readers to see what they are getting, luckily there is no smell with my words, or you’d all be opening a window right now. I do wash but, it’s my cheap and cheerful spray I use, it gets right up your nose, but it does keep the flies away, they use it to clean the drains. Jeyes Fluid in a little perfume bottle. Or am I joking?
Now how do you look your best? Well washing and combing your hair helps, otherwise I look like Dave Allen, finger intact, but hair all over the place. If you flick your hair one way then you look too much like Hitler, flick it the other way then you look like a male model. A comb is a deadly weapon, use it wisely or best not at all. Boris has his hair combed for tv by the makeup girl, then he tosses it again, so he looks like he’s just got out of bed.
A hairdresser is like a general lining up all the troops, but instead it’s the hair. Dandruff has to be killed without mercy, Head and Shoulders really works, as do the copy cat versions. So, a hairdresser knows how to manage your hair for you, or in these Covid19 days, just trust your girlfriend or your aged mum.
Once you have been dunked your grannie will throw a bucket of water over you to rinse away all the dandruff and suds. Next you have to dry your hair, so grannie will get you in a head lock and dry your hair with a towel. Hair driers weren’t invented in her days, so a towel on the head it’ll have to be. If your lucky she’ll use a clean towel and not the one she used on Rover the dog when he came in from a morning walk in the woods. Once finished grannie will attack your head with a comb, though a hedgehog might hurt less. Then only when she is satisfied will she release you, but she spots a stray hair, so she spits a greenie into her palm before rubbing it into your head. Perfect she exclaims.
You want to wash your hair again, but there is no time, the doorbell rings. It’s your girlfriend, your hair looks great she says. So, grannie is vindicated. You smile at her and your grannie. So now you really are looking your best, so you leave all smiles. You tell your girlfriend that grannie was a little rough and your head hurts a bit, so your girlfriend consoles you by resting your head on her cushions, her 38DD cushions.
just a few translations for you all, the FULL list is on the site if you go look for it
Thanks for reading my stuff, my bewilder readers North South East and West and maybe on the Space Station too that’s if a fake email is to be believed. If you write in ENGLISH with a proper SUBJECT LINE or via the WordPress thing you may get a reply. But then you’d wish you didn’t bother, ha ha ha
Stay happy and be gentle when you wash your grannie’s hair, All things with Love.
