Noises
We Make ©
By
Michael Casey
Today
Sir Tom is knighted, the old soldier who raised so much for the NHS, there was
a family wedding too. So, delight on two fronts for the Queen, and all done at
Windsor, you can see it for yourself on Utube. So that’s a big noise in the
Press, and we all applaud Sir Tom. Applause is one sign of love and respect,
it’s done in the theatre, at pop concerts its cheers and screaming, we have
applause at funerals now as well. It’s better than black everything that I
remember as an altar boy serving Mass in the 60s and 70s. We celebrate the life
just gone by, my mother had 5 priests on the altar and a packed church. Mozart
was thrown in a pit with lime thrown on top.
It's a
couple of days later as I resume talking to you, yes the pain monster has been
visiting me, Arthritis is no fun take it form me. As I talk to you Anastacia is
singing Freak of Nature and I’m tapping my foot as she sings, outside the house
opposite is being painted white by Tom Sawyer and his wife, I think Trump must
be visiting, the new white house, over the road from me. If I reveal that the
house is owned by doctor who deals with mental health issues in the elderly
need I say any more?
But back
to noises, we make noises when we are happy, I’m feeling happier thanks to
Anastacia, I seem to remember another neighbour played keyboards for her on a
UK tour some years ago. So life and beat and noise go together, when we are
afraid we are quiet, or held hostage in silence. This lockdown has quietened
the world down, that’s why Freedom Loving Americans party so much, then spread the
Virus so much. But at least Trump has finally got the message about masks, as
Anastacia sings about getting the message. Is she writing this piece or is she joining
in as my chorus, see that’s how I write, it’s in my head but influences can
blow the words one way or another. So goodbye to Anastacia as she fades away.
Words fade
to nothingness when sadness comes, or pain takes your breath away, and I am
over qualified in both. The words fade to nothingness, no more can be said, but
there are new beginnings. There is always new Hope, even in our darkest days,
think of Casablanca and singing the French National Anthem, in my story Malta
Nights I have a Esther a Jew sing defiantly. She looks at the statue of the
Virgin Mary, and says Only us two Jews in a room full of Gentiles celebrating,
please save them, I am old, I do not matter. And she can hear in her mind Mary’s reply, I used to sing for my
grannie, can you sing for me. So Esther the defiant Jew faces down a man with a
gun, and sings the Ave Maria, with all
the strong Maltese joining in. A wall of sound as a defence. You’ll have to
find the story online to see what happens.
Music and
song really is our greatest Noise, I was going to write this piece one way but
another took over. I have to stop right now as my left shoulder, always my left
shoulder hurts so much, but count the beats and I’ll returned plastered in
Movelat gel. Buy shares in Movelat, I’m still tingling in pain, but the edges
has gone off it. My small daughter has just return home, while she leaves her
treasure in the bathroom, I’ve returned after a ham and chorizo sandwich on
seeded bread. The noise of my Tinnitus is always with me, maybe all the pain problems
are short circuiting my brain to create noise which does not actually exist. My
Tinnitus specialist will no doubt remind me again when I go see him, in a few
months time.
We jump
for joy and sing and cheer, and nobody really still says Hip Hip Hooray, we don’t
wear bowler hats in UK either. Turbans and skull caps are more frequent. So,
what more can I say about noise, yes to Sing really is to Doubly Pray, ask Cecelia
when you get back to your bed. Joy elicits noise, we slap a baby to clear the
airways at birth, so we have tears of joy and tears of happiness. A K drama can
do that for me nowadays, you should try them.
I could
continue but I’ll excuse myself as hunger and still a bit of pain now rising to
my head has taken me off the boil. So I’ll put my whistling kettle on, what
else, and have a coffee and maybe a sliced salmon and tomato sandwich to finish
filling my belly. You can write a piece for yourself while I have my sandwich,
it’s probably better than this, then you can be a writer too.
