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/
Well we are still waiting for our new broadband to arrive, the phone switch was painless but the actual Broadband part of it has not arrived yet. My girls went down the library to use their Wifi, only to discover that the actual broadband could take at least 10 days to arrive. They interrogated Google to find out when their lifeblood would arrive, and girls wanting Broadband can be very very nasty, Google hobbled away tears streaming down his face. But at least he now knew never to upset the Casey girls, or my big daughter knew exactly how to hurt him, she did take not one but 2 Maths exams simultaneously. So Google put that in your pipe and smoke it, or my big daughter aided and abetted by her little sister would ask you to compute MC=4C, and that only had one answer that not even Dr Who would be able to find.
Which brings me to what exactly have I been doing while the wait is on. As I’ve said in another piece its all so quiet in the Casey household, but what about me the Master of the house. By the Master I don’t mean Missy the nemesis of Dr Who, though I’d kill to be able to wear her clothes, the Evil Marry Poppins look, but I digress comme d’habitude. So what exactly have I, the Master, ok the ignored dad, being doing?
Well I’ve been tidying up the files on the computer, a decade of stuff, and versions of stuff and copies of stuff, and a bit of this and a bit of that. I have gained 20gig, yes 20 gig of space, which is more that some of the new flipperty giberbert, fancy bendy over contortionist laptop, hand held computer thingys have. As its all in the Cloud, where hackers can steal all your embarrassing photos and sell them to the Sunday Newspapers.
Nobody has ever taken such photos of me, if ever I become a famous writer or radio star, then women will flock to me, just to take photos to blackmail me. But this is doomed to failure, not because I would not be tempted, but because there is not a wide angle camera invented with a lens good enough to take snaps of my fat hairy arse.
But I’ve digress, put that picture or non picture out of your mind, go have a stiff drink then return to my page. Shall I continue, I will then, I’ve had the last the Pepsi from the fridge, now where was I? Yes, what have I been up to? Apart from tidying up my words, my babies, I have pruned my files so there is more space on my computer, an old fashioned desktop PC, though I have a large screen. At my age I need to see things, if ever I make money I’d buy a large screen Apple thingy. I also did the usual 10 off site securities to media. Remember I was a computer operator for decades so backups are my bread and butter, and my stories are much more important to me than mere work files.
As for my Internet habits, what do I miss. I miss my Daily Telegraph, though as I don’t have a subscription I cannot read all the stuff. If they want to donate a subscription to me that would be nice. At the moment it’s a bit like being in a strip club and the stripper removes her gloves and high heels and slips off her evening dress. Then NOTHING, because The Daily Telegraph paywall kicks in. I want to see what Tim Stanley has to offer or Michael the Deacon, and all the other stuff. So aroused but disappointed I have to flick to the Guardian then The Daily Mail, or I would usually only my Broadband has gone AWOL, well for 10 days at least. I could kick Google in its Al Gore, or some other Politician. Only I cannot, not unless I go down the road to the Library.
So gently simmering in my own juices, and I’ve never been much of a cook, apart from beans on toast with 3 free range eggs mixed in. It’s good for your heart, your heart I said are you as deaf as a fart? I miss my morning Press review. I watch the evening version on tv, and I do watch Sky and BBC Press previews on the computer while the family is watching tv. So not having my broadband means I’m suffering withdrawl symptoms, No Norman Smith or Laura and her gold coloured chav bag, no Sky human interest angle on events. I cannot mix and match my habits, my media habits as I pass my day writing stories and having a think, in-between my many visits to the toilet, Ckd does that to you, its not just being a journalist.
Though I have an idea for a story, it’ll be in the finale of Tears for a Butcher, Where the story is just so big, so important that when the Sky reporter rings his editor he gets the best command ever in the life of any journalist. BUY THE PUB. Rupert is on a visitation to Sky Centre, Big Sid the butcher has been shot 3 times defending his friends, his life is in the balance. If he lives he’ll get the George Medal. So the reporters are all gathered outside Dudley Road Hospital, in the bar of the Windmill Pub, they are going to be thrown out as its Closing Time. Its then that Rupert with ink in his veins says into the ear of the Editor. BUY THE PUB. NUJ membership allows entry into the bar, immediately a private members club.
Well I’ll leave that idea with you for now, I may or may not ever get around to writing Tears for a Butcher, If Rupert wants to donate a fast typing legal secretary I could finish that sequel in time for the Christmas market. Or a sober journalist would do, they are very fast typists after all. Though finding a non drinking journalist might be as hard as finding an honest politician.
Another of my habits is music, I have background music as I write, though at the moment I’ve had none as I talk to you today. Spotify is good, the Free version has a few adverts but it it worth a try. I’ve been listening to the Beatles Sergeant Pepper album recently, and singing along. Wednesday Morning is my favourite track at the moment. You can track down Michael Jackson’s History album too, that’s really good. I did have a copy of the album once but its disappeared from the house.
Broadband gives you a Window on the world, as Bill Gates will testify, we need to make sure it stays free of regulation that’ll allow totalitarian governments destroy it. Having said that Facebook and Google and the like should pay their fair share of taxes. 20% is fair, other companies pay, so should they,and none of this fiddling. Any big company can play the altruist card, and even run for President, and how can they afford to do all that? They are not paying their taxes by exploiting the very people they claim they want to lead and show a better path too. Pay your taxes, everybody else does, or are you using broadband as a tool to fool. Broadband is to educate, inform and entertain, and not to profane in all but name.
I am thinking of getting my writing on Radio, as I’ve told
you all before. I have had good feedback from radio stations about my writing.
I did once get a comment “I like your style but not the content” which may have
come from a Hip Hop radio station. I have sent my word files far and wide in
the hope of connecting with a fellow simple mind,wasn’t
that the name of a band too?
A couple of radio stations even said they could find me a
slot but they didn’t get back to me. I even sent a bit of video and audio along
with 300 and Not OUT, which is my largest single collection of short writing. I
can wait till I die so I’ll continue my campaign. Now I’ve decided to record
everything I write so that people who prefer to use their ears cannot escape me
either.
I have over 500 pieces of short writing spread over 3 books
on Amazon Kindle, and 3 other books too. So now I embark on recording them all.
To do this I need a mike and a pop filter. At the moment I’m using the old mike
my wife used to scream through to Shanghai and her mum. Shanghai people are
very noisy, or is it passionate, no it’s noisy, after 14years I think noisy is
the correct word.
Now I’ve managed to record 50 pieces or 10% of my creation
so far. There is a problem when you record stuff and you are a writer, you want
to make changes as you read the piece. I also want to do it all quickly, so I’m
not as prepared as an actor, an actor would read a piece several times before
attempted to record it. I want the reading, the recording to be as fresh as the
original writing.
An actor would do a couple of takes and the director would
advise him, then in the editing suite the director picks the best. So I have to
be my own director, it is a learning process, and a couple of pieces I’ve left
out as they are too short perhaps or they don’t seem to fit Radio. The original
idea for Radio was 90 seconds with Michael, where I’d have 90 seconds to read
something for Radio and amuse them. Some stations liked the idea, so I hope
that if I now record everything and it’s out there in cyber space I’ll get
spotted, maybe I can be the new Justin Beaver. I am of course better looking.
Now for Radio I have to read more slowly, because when I
write I am very fast, and when we all read to ourselves it is much faster than
when we hear something on the radio. Remember too that we all think 4 times
faster than we speak. So first in my mind I have an idea, which I then write
down here at the keyboard, then I upload it to my sites. But to record it in
the hope that it’s heard and spotted, and folks tell their local radio stations
to listen, I have to remember to speak clearly and slow enough for people to
hear all the words clearly. Yes obvious, but when we all talk to our friends we
do speak much faster.
Which brings me to the topic of technology. When I started recording a week or so ago, I
was using our old stick microphone, which is ok for screaming to grandma in
Shanghai, but for speech radio it is not good enough. Grease may be the word but
HISS is the move, the sound you get when you record things. I tried lots of
things then I decided on wrapping the mike in the foam from mini paint rollers,
as I mentioned a few days ago. My daughter had been doing some felting at
school in the craft lesson. Her square of felt was perfect to insulate the
microphone from wind noise, or rather my own heavy breathing.
Pop filters are also recommended, I did not understand the
concept at first, I thought it was just some kind of lollypop. However after
watching music videos on MTV and VH1, I begin to understand. Utube also
explains things. A pop filter not only keeps the spit off the microphone, it
breaks down the air flow. So Ps and Bs or whatever don’t overwhelm the
microphone, it’s like changing an American into an Englishman, a very posh and
clear sound. Only teasing you Americans.
You can get all manner of “free” software on the Internet,
only it’s not really free, its free till you just get the hang of it, then they
want 50dollars. So you curse and start looking for more free software. You
click and click and click and then finally you finda couple of really free software packages to
record with. Only they are cuckoos in the nest and change your browser settings
and your default search engine to something worse than useless. Then you have
to go to the control panel and delete their droppings from your computer.
I was a computer operator for 22years or so, in the old
days, a kind of dinosaur compared to the IT people of today. So I always tidy
up, in the old days your computer could run out of space and crash the system.
If you had 4 gig on the computer that was very impressive, and that was 10
years into my stint as a computer operator.We produced acres of paper and sold this to the clients, market research
into alcohol sales, yes really. I can even remember my boss saying alcopops
would NOT catch on.
So once I got rid of 2 or 3 not free recording sound
programs I settled down to record. The hiss factor was much improved, Audacity
seems to be just right, but when I get a new mike I’ll see how that sounds and
then I can record my stuff anew. I may have to go back and record what I’ve
done already.
Girls just like toys, so dad’s recording software and his
mike with a ferret attached to the top, is too good to be true. So the girls
have tried it out, singing hymns from church and Lady Gaga songs too. Then they
wanted to be BBC news reporters and weather girls. So while I had my dinner, on
their side of the computer the girls had broadcasting lessons with the gerbil attached
to the mike. All I could hear was laughter. Afterwards I showed them Audacity
and they tried that out. They were pleased with the less hissing results, no
snakes in the grass now.
Since I started on this adventure with a mike my ears have been
really tuned in. Even as I type as I talk to you I’m listening to the sound of
the keyboard. I’m listening to the sound of the computer itself on the self by
my knee. I can hear the clock ticking on the bookcase too. Normally I have
music playing as I talk to you but now I do not, so every little sound echoes
in my mind.
So will my efforts be in vain? I don’t know, but it will be
great practice for after dinner speaking. If I record 500 short pieces and put
them on my sites Typepad and Tumblr then perhaps somebody will discover my
words. And as for me perhaps I’ll get a free dinner.
