Mulan on Disney
I watched that with my small daughter last night, till 2am
I enjoyed it, I'd watch it again
I also finished watching a Star is Born the Lady Gaga version
9/10 for Gaga , very impressed
I don't know if it was the accent or just my Tinnitus ears, but Bradley seemed
garbled. Otherwise what a waste, a descent into addiction/alcoholism
I've seen alcoholism close up and personal, all our lodgers had a drink problem
Jock even turned into a character in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
what else, yes I'll write something new, but there are 2000+ separate pieces of
writing in addition to a full length, 600 page comic novel, BBU.
So if any of you have read my entire output, just let me know, and I'll marry you.
Sorry, you'd have to be a female, so I hope any male/gay readers are not too
disappointed at missing a chance. Female only.
Over in USA, Trump continues to prove he is EVIL, yet folks wanted safety, as
Obama might say, and voted his way. Now Uncle Joe, has his work cut out. And
why does Freedom outway Sanity in USA.
Just wear a mask, they do in the EAST long before Covid.
So a nation's pride, kills it off.
Live to fight another day.
Ok, enough Politics, 2021 will bring a Renaissance it has too
Save the Planet and save Humanity too.
here's something to keep you going.
Gulliver's
Travels and MeDec 31, '10 8:53 AM
for everyone
Gulliver’s Travels and Me ©
By
Michael Casey
I was thinking about what to write this New Year’s
Eve. The past, the present, the future all spring to mind. Jack Black is in a
movie Gulliver’s Travels this holiday season. So I thought I could use that as
my starting point. Then “WOOSH” I remembered I once won a raffle, I won a copy
of Gulliver’s Travels. I never won a raffle in my life but I did win that one.
42years ago and more, I was still wearing short socks with elastics to hold
them up and short trousers too. There were only 6 or was it 8 of us in with a
chance for the raffle.
The book didn’t change my life, it was a nice read
at the time. The actual book was meant as a lecture, but we all forget/don’t
know that now. If memory serves a war was brewing because one side opened their
egg by the big end and the other opened their egg by the small end. Me I prefer
scrambled eggs in the microwave, 2 minutes and you’re done, with lots of toast
too, go to work on an egg used to be a very old advertising slogan.
Gulliver shows us that we are all afraid of things,
and small things can make us all so very afraid. The shadow on the wall, or
just being afraid of the dark, all these things spook us. Its so very hard
getting children to sleep with the light off. So we compromise and have a night
light for them, and maybe for us too. When we travel in some places the bedroom
is as dark as a darkroom, but without any coloured safety light. Its total
pitch black, so we compromise and have the bathroom light on, with the
door half closed, otherwise if we awake
in the night we might think we’re dead, its just so very very dark. I know from
my own holiday experiences, but I did also work in an hotel for 3years and when
you do room checks the number of times it was pitch black because the curtains
were left closed……
To some you are a giant, just like Gulliver, your
kids think you are great and you make them laugh, they forgive you for telling
them off on occasions. They stand on your toes and together you dance around
the living room. How long will they see you this way, I hope forever, I always
tell my kids to remember things, I’m encouraging them to build up a store of
memories and laughter. Then in the future when I’m not there anymore they have
this treasure chest of memories. I’m no Jack Sparrow but I hope I have more
treasure than him, treasure that’ll last down the generations. Laughter is the
greatest treasure I can give to my kids, I’m no giant, though I’m fat, Panzi
FAT FAT BOY is my Chinese name after all, but a treasure chest full of laughter
is what I try and add to every day.
The reverse of the coin is being small. Gulliver was
small in the other half of the tale, we all sometimes forget the small people,
those who beaver away in the background.
The little old ladies who teach choir, the lollypop
ladies who save our kids from the selfish fast drivers who are on the phone as
they drive. Today we have the New Years Honours and I for one hope the little
people get their due. Little things in our lives can change and guide us to our
futures. Advice we listened to once which changed our lives, such as “try
computers” and then you end up with a nice job for 21years.
“Write a book”, so I wrote a book. Now I’ve written
3, and I still need a publisher for my
books not to mention a producer for my plays. “Why don’t you get engaged” was
one such piece of advice, and now I am married with 2 girls. Those 3 small separate
pieces of advice have changed my life. All of you reading this must have had
somebody give advice or make ½ a suggestion, even if you were all drunk in a
pub and somebody said “why not go on the Xfactor”, or “Go to London and seek
your fortune”, it worked for Dick Whittington after all. So think big, thing
small, have some travels Gulliver did, so why not you?
0 Comments
Christmas
2010, footprints in the snow (C)Dec 25, '10 12:53 PM
for everyone
Christmas Day 2010, footprints in the snow ©
By
Michael Casey
I got a bit of the flu again this Christmas, so I
wasn’t playing in the snow but my girls
were. They came in asking me to come out quick because they’d found a footprint
in the snow. I wondered what they were on about. My big daughter had asked what
was the hairy animal that left foot prints. She was talking about Bigfoot or a
Yeti.
Outside she showed me what she had seen, it was a
footprint wider that a mans and longer too, with 4 toe prints, or so it looked.
She said there was a 2nd footprint but it had disappeared. Perhaps it was
Santa’s slay mark or was it one of his reindeer’s footprint or was it the
sleigh itself leaving marks behind. I retreated indoors to the warm, then I
suggested that my big daughter that she took a photo.
She took a photo, literally one. I then got an old
file divider and folded it in half so that I could take a few photos with the
file divider being a scale reference. Its hard photographing footprints or Yeti
prints in the snow, its all too white. The impression in the snow was a large
imprint only half an inch deep then a smaller imprint a bit deeper followed by
the 4 toe prints. I include a photo below.
Now was it the Yeti in our back garden or was it
Santa and the reindeer, just leaving one footprint as they hovered in our garden.
Perhaps it was the Gruffalo itself, it was all a mystery. We talked about it
while we had our duck and pancakes Christmas dinner, egg fried rice with king
prawns will be our supper soon as we watch Dr Who, the new one the silly one as
my girls call him. I punctuated the conversation with sneezes and wiping my
nose. Terry’s Chocolate Orange was our
desert. Not very traditional but a good celebration if you have a Shanghai wife
and two bilingual daughters.
We’re having a break from the tv after the Gruffalo,
which gives me time to write this down and tell you all about the Yeti in
Birmingham. Though having thought about it, it could just be an impression in the snow made by a cat
sitting down and stretching and scratching. Though we do have foxes near where
we live and we have had a fox in our garden before. But as its Christmas Day I
chose to believe it was Santa’s Sleigh just touching down momentarily, and if
it wasn’t that it must have been a Birmingham Yeti. A Birmingham Yeti, now that
would be something, I could organise coach trips and freeze the footprint and
keep it in our freezer just next to the pizzas and the sea bass, I could charge
a tenner a time to see the frozen evidence. And what if it was a Gruffalo? My
small daughter did have an apple fall on her head while she was making a snow
angel, so did the Gruffalo knock it off while he was trying to hide amongst the
trees at the bottom of our garden? Was it her Isaac Newton moment? Was it all her imagination, or was it mine?
Judge for yourself, here’s the photo.
0 Comments
My
Lottery NumbersDec 22, '10 12:32 PM
for everyone
My Lottery
Numbers ©
By Michael Casey
Well Christmas is upon us and all our thoughts move
towards a baby in a manger. Maybe 40years ago that was true, nowadays we all
have a variety of different thoughts. My wife is telling tales of her youth
back in Shanghai, tipping rice out of her bowl and landing on a neighbour’s
washing below, pants with rice in them, the remainder of the rice landing on an
old lady’s head. This was 30 years ago.
Other people wish and dream for a lottery win, just
in time for Christmas. Me I play spasmodically, and yes I never win, I tend to
play when there is a rollover, as if my chances will get any better then. I
know I’ll never win the lottery, but spasmodically I waste a quid on it.
How do you pick those six numbers? The number of
smiles you got on the bus in the morning, the number of times you fell on
you’re a*&^% in the snow. The number of Z list celebrities who were
featured in The Metro the on the bus newspaper, or the number of copies left
strewn on the floor of the bus waiting for somebody to slip and twist their
ankle on.
Or maybe it’s the number of attempts you have to
make before your computer switches on at work. Or perhaps the number of people
in your lift or how many got out on your floor, or even how many free cups of
chocomilk you have in a week from the free vend machine.
Choosing a lottery number is a very engrossing
thing. I have won a tenner very very occasionally. I once got an IM from
Shanghai my small daughter gave me the winning numbers. So when she got home
from her holiday I gave her the £10. Hover I’d much rather win enough to move
house or even retire, then I could write all day everyday. But maybe the Fates
are saving the Reading Public, God does have a funny sense of humour after all,
he did make us Mankind after all.
So is there any hope or logic in lottery numbers,
no, perhaps what I really need is for Vince Cable to introduce me to Rupert
Murdoch and maybe then Rupert will discover my writing. Either that or my
33year old Premium Bond finally comes up trumps.
Merry Christmas Everybody
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com to escape the Turkey.
0 Comments
The
ChairDec 18, '10 6:59 PM
for everyone
The Chair ©
By
Michael Casey
When we got married we couldn’t afford much furniture, just a bed
and an old armchair and a table to eat our dinner off. But that was fine my
wife could always sit on my lap. That was nice and that was cosy and kept the
fire going inside us and between us.
But when somebody sits on your lap the passion soon
rises, and soon you’re both naked and soon babies will come.
So the question is should I/we all of us not sit on
laps and just buy a second chair. Its more civilised no doubt but a girl
sitting on your lap leaning against to is much more fun. Don’t you agree.
What if you can’t afford any chairs, not even one?
Is it better to sit on the floor doing Yoga positions? Would you both sit down
cross legged and have serious conversations, and quote the Times, or would you
both roll about and try something from the Sun?
So would it be better to buy a chair, or steal two
deckchairs from a beach?
Furniture plays a major role in romance, a rocking
chair is very romantic or even erotic, and when the babies come feeding a baby
while rocking in a chair is such a nice feeling.
Your favourite chair, or an old suite donated by a
friend is great, you can cuddle up together and watch tv, even if your wife
thinks you’re like Homer Simpson, not the ancient Greek philosopher.
An old chair can be used to stand on while you wash the windows or
change a bulb. I used to have an old huge battered old chair that I sat in
while I speak these lines to you. Now we have a more modern and smaller chair
that I sit in while I share these words with you.
Perhaps when I’m very old I’ll have a commode for
convenience sake and my daughters will
spray perfume. Nobody knows the future but I do really miss my rocking chair.
0 Comments
Christmas
On A BusDec 18, '10 6:44 AM
for everyone
Christmas On A
Bus ©
By
Michael Casey
On a bus coming home the Christmas Story revealed
itself to me, ordinary events on a cold
Winter’s evening.
There was a large man squeezed into a seat sitting
crossways as he was so large, I squeezed in next to him, the two of us like
boulders abandoned.
A small African child was singing a carol to her mum
who was weighed down by worry and a carrier bag
larger than the child, behind a
bigger child was swinging her feet off the seat.
In front of me a child with a large bright pretty ribbon in her hair was
talking excitedly to her nan. Her nan was all wrapped up against the Winter
weather, she was more like a parcel than a person She was giving sage advice to
her granddaughter, don’t expect too much this Christmas.
There was a pretty teenaged too, she was moving her ankle in her new clean boots,
perhaps Christmas boots, she was speaking confidently to her ugly friend,
pretty girls always have either a fat or ugly best friend, its Nature’s
balance.
The African family got up it was their stop at the
bus stop, I told the child to hold on tight to the rail as she moved forward
only she was too small to understand fully.
My children are about their age I said to the child with the ribbon in
her hair and her nan.
The large man squeezed in next to me started doing
sign language to me, it was only then that I realised he was deaf and dumb. So
I signed back to him. A few stops further on the dumb man as big as Gabriel
himself got up as it was his stop, we exchanged goodbyes, “Good Luck” I said,
he got off and waved goodbye from the street.
I heard a voice on a mobile, “we’ve got to go then
or the graveyard will be shut, I want to give mum some flowers for Christmas.”
All this represents Christmas,
your Christmas, My Christmas, Everybody’s Christmas.
So take time out to speak to the deaf,
to share a smile, to remember your mum, for Christ is Born.
2 Comments
Talking
to an AudienceDec 13, '10 3:46 PM
for everyone
Talking to an Audience ©
By
Michael Casey
The average speaker starts by saying “unaccustomed
as I am to Public Speaking” and then he rattles off his talk. I was sent on a presenting course back in
1998 this was a great course and after 2 days of training I had mastered the
basics.
The trainer placed a few objects on the table, a
pencil, a book, a pair of glasses and
several more random things. We had previously been shown how the expert
did it now it was our turn. We were given 15mins to prepare then one by one we
had to stand up and talk about the object we had chosen.
We all watched and then gave feedback, it was a
group thing, we were all on the same team, it was a family we were there to
help each other learn how to present. Talking for 5 mins can be scary when you’ve
never done it before, but with training anybody can do it.
We repeated this exercise with different objects, we
gave advice and encouragement to each other. Some were not as good as others,
for some standing up and talking in front of another group of people was like
being naked in front of people. Nobody was naked but it felt that way to the
shy talkers.
Having Irish blood in me made it easier for me. Then
we were all given the big challenge, the next day we had to stand up and talk
for 15mins, on a subject of our own choosing. I decided to talk about my trip
to Paris in the February just gone. So on the train from Oxford to Birmingham I
started making out some Qcards, notes to help me with me talk the next day. I
should explain I was working in Birmingham for ACNielsen but the head office
was in Oxford and that’s where the training was. Caroline had been very
generous and allowed me to go on the course just months before redundancy
beckoned. If I’m honest I hoped the course would help me with my comedy
writing.
The next day I was on a train my Qcards all ready, I
rehearsed and rehearsed, then I got to Oxford and ACNielsen HQ. I think I was last to talk, or should I say
perform. I told them that I had chosen hotel on the advice of JC, only JC had
forgotten to tell me it was in a red light area by Gare du Nord Paris.
Being a lad I had a Chinese an lots of wine, before
staggered all over Paris and down the Metro, at the Eiffel Tower my camera was
bust, I was using my schoolboy French trying to get the girl in the box office
under the Eiffel Tower to fix my camera. I decided a kebab was a good idea
after my night time look at Paris. That was a mistake, the Chinese and wine and
a kebab all mixed, and made me violently ill. My bathroom was like a wardrobe that
you climbed into for both the toilet and a shower. I was as sick as a pig. In
the morning I found a pharmacy. “Avez vous des asprin de bas prix” I asked. In
exchange I was given a box which said “asprin tamponee” I opened the box and
inside was a tube with extra strong mint sized asprins, asprins that fizzed. So
I had to find a drink and wash the asprins down, I must have looked like a
rabid dog.
I continued with my tale, my audience in fits of
laughter. I was nearing the end of my tale when I was stopped. “How many
minutes have you done?” asked the trainer. “15” I replied. In fact I had done
30mins. So I think I passed the test, I can present.
3 days later I was in the Czech Republic, my
penfriend was giving me a look at Pilsner her home town, the home of lager
itself. She had a class and would I, could I talk to them, she was an English
teacher you see. So there I was in front of 25 students, so I stood up and
presented off the cuff for 90minutes.
I think that proves I had a good teacher in Oxford.
My trip to Pilsner gave me an idea for a piece of writing, Czech Story, which
proved to be one of the best and funniest pieces of writing I have ever done.
Its good because its true. I suppose all art is best when it draws from life. Shall we leave it there for
tonight……………..
0 Comments
A New
Page, a new leafDec 12, '10 8:56 AM
for everyone
Well I'm hoping for big things next year 2011. So I'm kind of restarting my blogging
here on Multiply. I've created a book of blogs, a selection of 100 blogs. So
that means I have 3 finished books and a 4th still being written:-
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
Essays and Plays
MichaelCasey'sBlogs2011
Tears For A Butcher
Tears For A Butcher carries on the next day after
Butcher Baker Undertaker finishes. I'm
having lots of fun dreaming up this book. Now all I need is a few quid to support myself while I
have a year off to write it.
I won't be attaching any attachments to my future
blogs, but I will be sharing my blogs with MySun and MyTelegraph as usual.
0 Comments
Window
ShoppingDec 4, '10 6:51 PM
for everyone
Window Shopping ©
by Michael
Casey
Well the cold has got me so I’m all bunged up and
drinking gallons of hot drinks, the kettle is whistling so wait a sec. Ah
that’s better, another hot coffee, then I’ll switch to hot blackcurrant. Why do
colds come at Xmas?
They are as predictable as carol singers. I only
ever tried carol singing once as a child that’s another memory that has rushed
back to me.
Rosie told me she believed that if you looked at a
toy shop window you could see all the toys but at night when you were not there
they all came to life. She was a child at the time, but I hope she lets that
memory come to life often. My kids still believe in Santa as do I, I go for the
fittings of his new costume at Slaters every Christmas, and then Santa comes
along for the final fitting, we are about the same size you see. You could say
I am his body double, just like in the films.
But back to Slaters, now they only have a small shop
window then you take the lift upstairs and it’s a bit like an Aladdin’s cave.
But speaking of shop windows and window shopping there are many ways to window
shop. The real world one can be tiring trudging around the shops, especially if
you have a young and fashionable wife. So I soon realised the best way was to
let her go on her own while I had peace and quiet, then once we had kids she
took the kids and I had peace and quiet. The perfect solution, especially as I
paid the bill. Young girls become very fashion conscience, so they were the
perfect mirror, to say mum this is good or this is bad. I’m sure Shanghai
husbands/boyfriends agree with me, perhaps there should be a club for the
Shanghai husbands/boyfriends
Me I look in 2 shop windows and know they won’t have
my size, and then I head for Slaters, sometime with the family in toe, then its
like lightning, flash bang whallop, I’ve got all I need. That’ll do me for a
year or two.
I do like looking in watch shop windows, watches are
a weakness of mine, why are men’s watches so huge nowadays, its like having an
alarm clock strapped to your wrist. I tend to go for the elegant ones, or the
elegant ones in my opinion. The ones with multi dials and buttons to press and
turn are a turnoff. Oris ones are nice,
as are Omega. Yes I do dream of having one of those when I win the lottery or
finally sell some books. My first watch was
for passing the 11plus, its all in The Watch and Me an essay on my site
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
Now we are in a technological world, we have windows on the world via our
tv and our computer. I was telling my girls earlier today that we only had 2 or
3 tv channels when I was their age, they could not believe it.
So what do we do with our tv/computer eyes ?
We window shop. Obviously I look at watches and
dream of my automatic Oris or Omega, and how nice it would be. I have had maybe
20watches these past 20 years or so. I’m forever carrying things and banging my
watches. One steamed up and the front fell off so I superglued the glass back
on, only I glued the hands together.
What else do I window shop? Well when I need a new
winter coat I look at the web sites and see what I can see in xxl or 2xl as its
called nowadays. Window shopping on the web allows me to see what’s available,
the designs and so forth, all from the comfort of my own home, as you’ve seen
from the photos on my website. The government encourages all this window
shopping because it helps trade and that in turn helps their tax take, which in
turn should help us. We do finally leave our homes and visit town and buy stuff
and have a beer and a meal while we are at it.
We all look online before we book our holidays, some
look online for love, romance, sex. And then they book their holidays. Online
is our eyes, nobody will believe how old fashioned the world used to be, my
grandkids won’t believe the Internet was invented, its as ordinary as trees
growing in a back garden, its always been there. In the future there will be
guided tours explaining about Window Shopping, about holding hands in the rain,
about blokes gathered in the doorway talking about MU while their
wives/girlfriends try on stuff. Window Shopping is part of world culture, it’s
the 3rd oldest occupation in the world after sex and stories comes Window
Shopping.
2 Comments
WikiLeaks
and all thatNov 28, '10 6:18 PM
for everyone
WikiLeaks and all that ©
By Michael Casey
WikiLeaks is making the headlines the world over.
WikiPedia its near namesake is very inaccurate,
Lenny Henry did a piece about it in his Comedy Show which I watched the other
night. Now while I’m talking about Lenny who was born just up the road from
where I’m speaking from, he did a 2 part radio play on Radio4 about a washed
out Police Padre , now that play deserves to be transferred to TV, so everybody
email The Sun and see what we can do.
WikiLeaks shows what can happen when somebody has
too much access to military computer systems, and it also proves that the
system was not tested enough or at all. The average person at home looks after
their computer and their data. Its no use boasting how great a computer system
is if its not tested. We have a British citizen who broke into Nasa and other
US military computers because he was looking for UFO evidence. Now if he was a
terrorist I could understand the USA anger, but he was a simple man who should
not be extradited and sent to jail. He should be rewarded for proving how
rubbish the security was, he should be given
a job to help sort out the security. The poacher turned gamekeeper
approach. I bet the majority of people, lets say 85% would agree with me.
Wikileaks shines a light on diplomacy and its many
arts. Some things that have been said we all know would be said anyway. But its
embarrassing for these facts to come out. The pot has been stirred and lots of
*&^% has hit the fan. Its like a couple of girls in the bathroom saying
horrible things about a friend not knowing she was in a cubicle behind them. In
films the girls kiss and make up, or the girl gets revenge or the girl realises she’s a dork and she
changes for the better. Sandra Bullock would no doubt star she’d be the girl in
the cubicle.
International relations are not about girls in the
bathroom, the world is a dangerous place. We have folks who are arming with
dangerous toys. Nuclear weapons are the ultimate phallic system, if we could
make a wish upon a star we’d all wish them away. Some people love Miami beach
others think its dangerous full of dangerous people, others prefer Fort
Lauderdale, so it goes with international relations. We have friends who
protect us, ie. USA but we don’t want our other friends knowing this.
I was brought up never to tell a lie, are
International relations about lies and deceit? Or is it all about the real
world, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. Only South Africa gave up
the Nuclear phallic, any chance North Korea and Iran will do the same?
We can all dream and we can all pray, my god is not
better than your god. There is only One God and his name is “dad” or “abba” its
to him we should all be praying, begging our one God to take away the Evil of
trophy nuclear weapons. This is something worthy for all of us to do this
Advent season, a new life a new hope is born at Christmas, for without hope the
certainty is that someday we’ll all see an atomic flash on the horizon, which
would prove we are just a planet of apes.
Just for fun vote on the best photo of me plus your
favourite piece of writing
0 Comments
Whats
on the InternetNov 27, '10 6:13 AM
for everyone
There was a piece in today's DT about the internet,
my post Internet Story says a lot about the subject so I've brought it back
below.
But I would first say that using the Internet allows
you to practice your skills, it allows you to be a verbal Banksy, to share your
"wisdom" with the world. It allows you to hijack websites for your
own devices, its like shouting at a tv crew or pulling faces at the tv crew
while they interview somebody important
or self important, its like mooning while a politician drones on. Which
is more important, a politician trying to save face or a mooner behind him?
Me I'm trying to get people to read The Butcher The
Baker and The Undertaker my comic novel. If I had a few quid I'd publish it as
an Ebook, at the moment its a free read on my site.
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I can empathise
with singers who used to tour all the old folk clubs being allowed to do
three songs in the interval. Finally
they are allowed to do a set of six poems. Mad Dogs and Englishman was a great
band from years ago, they may be dead now, I hope not but alcohol has got a few
of their kind. Nick Fenwick was another great singer, as was Tommy Dempsy. Back
to the Internet, here everybody has their 15mins of fame or their own virtual
world in which they are a star, its like Xfactor where you are both the judge
and jury and your own publicist. Yes I've broken some of the "rules"
on the internet but thats the joy of it you can have your say, the printing
press was a great revolution and brought education to the masses, so now in its
way the Internet brings enlightenment to the masses. Yes its brings lots of
rubbish too, perhaps 50% rubbish and 50% interesting stuff, but I do think I'm
right in saying it is as important as the printing press. If we didn't have the
Internet we could still be back in the days of Monks in cells illuminating
pages. Now if I could draw my book would be more sellable, a few drawings grab
people so they turn the pages, cover art is important too. So if Banksy reads
this how about doing some illustrations for me. As payment they'll be one blank page in every
book so you Banksy can draw to your hearts content, me I'll just enjoy the
royalties.
Now everybody enjoy Internet Story again. Michael in Freezing Birmingham
1 Comment
I
know your faceNov 22, '10 3:21 PM
for everyone
I know your face ©
By
Michael Casey
Somebody said he knew my face today, he was looking at a photo of me on my
site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
But 100,000 people know my face, I worked at a 4star
hotel for a few years so that many guests must have seen me.
I have
brothers and cousins, so I suppose my face could look familiar. My hair
is distinctive, it went white, silver if you’re generous to me, it went silver
20 years before it should have. I’m “granddad” on the school run.
In songs a face changes things, “when I saw her
face” the Monkees sang, I was small when their show was on tv.
“Take that look off your face” another song sings.
For the Chinese its about not losing face, saving face is important.
Putting a face to a name is what we say when we meet
after just phone or email contact.
Faces are important, we can see each other, we can
see each other’s reactions, the look of love or the sneer of contempt. Fear written on a face,
tired and worn out, sad eyes, pained eyes all of this is on a face.
But what about a mother’s face, love is written all over it, kindness
and compassion and laughter too.
My wife took my mother’s photo to Shanghai to
introduce her to my Chinese family, my mother had died a few years previously but the photo showed them the
depths of love, the oceans of love, all of this from the smile on her face.
A face is a door to the soul, a way to the heart, a
sign showing just how much spirit of love is inside a person.
A face is a road map for love, so always be open, a
hard uncaring, a hard look is self defeating, I’m strong, leave the face
pulling alone, leave it for heavy weight boxers.
Me I hope I have a ready smile, a warm look just as
it was given me by my parents and by my heritage.
His face reminds me of Santa, now that is a face worth keeping. Smile Everybody.
2 Comments
Counting
MoneyNov 20, '10 7:55 AM
for everyone
Counting Money
©
By Michael Casey
The King was in his counting house accounting out
his money when down came a Blackbird…
We all remember this from school days, days getting
further away from us all the time.
We all know how to save the pennies, save the
pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.
Make ends meet, what does that mean, touching your
toes perhaps?
Scrimp and save, things are tight, does that mean
you are fat? Or lack of money.
We all learn about money when we are small. We
remember the sound of loose change in
dad’s pocket.
We were getting a treat because Dad was getting
money out, we could hear the sound we were happy.
I’m old enough to remember real money, pounds
shillings and pence money.
It was 12 pennies to the shilling and 20 shillings
to a pound, and horses were sold in guinnies, if I’ve spelt it right.
Our money confused my American cousins, but it was
fun explaining it to them. A halfpenny, a penny, a threepenny bit, a sixpence,
a shilling, a florin, a half a crown, crowns I next saw, an orange 10 shillings
note and then a pound note, and then other notes which I never got to see
because I was too small.
Explain all that to a foreigner and they were
totally lost, going to the moon was easier to understand.
I’m old enough to remember the joy of the Apollo
landing, we were the world, everything was so exciting, Apollo and Ali not to
mention the Beatles and real money.
A penny was made of copper and so was the half
penny, the threepenny bit was six sided with a portcullis design on it, it went
green with age. The sixpence was very slim slimmer that today’s 5 new pence.
The shilling was thicker and perhaps bigger than today’s 10pence. It was real
money and the sweets it bought were so much better than today’s sweets, or so
it seems.
We knew about money because we had lodgers and they
came to the back door to pay the rent, sometimes barely able to stand up, smoke
and beer belching over us kids. Are you alright Mrs Casey? As they leant on the
lintel for support, staggering away to the pub again.
The gas and electric meters had to be emptied and
the money counted. We had a copper coloured metal jug which had the keys for
the locks on the meters inside it, when dad had then we knew he’d be counting
soon. He emptied the money on the kitchen table and started counting, piles of
coins, shillings and florins.
Dad was like a Casino croupier counting and stacking
the coins. Then when he’d finished he’d put the coins in little plastic bags,
and after that in a small leather black bag. This was his lunch bag for work at
the foundry, but when the gas or electric bill came it was the bag for the
money. I was charged with walking down to the corner shop, there I’d present
the money to Mr Singh who wouldn’t even weigh it, just throw it in his safe and
peel off the money from his very large wad from his back pocket. Smiling we’d
say our goodbyes both happy with the exchange. Who needs a bank when you have a
corner shop?
There are more stories to tell, but I’ll save those
for another day.
TTFN
Michael
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
0 Comments
We
Are WordsNov 14, '10 8:22 AM
for everyone
We have Words(c)
By
Michael Casey
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
0 Comments
If
Music Be The Food Of LoveNov 13, '10 7:41 AM
for everyone
If Music Be The Food Of Love ©
By
Michael Casey
If Music Be The Food Of Love wrote Shakespeare, he
was right, Music Is The Food Of
Love. A boy can get up close and
personal if he has the right mood music. A girl’s heart will melt if he has the
right song on his hifi, or should I say IPod. Music touches us, it makes our
hearts beat faster, just as a bit of flesh revealed makes our eyes dilate.
In the interests of balance should I reverse the
sentence, a boy’s heart will melt, or a gay lover’s heart will melt etc.
Let’s take that as read, Love does
Conquer All as my mum once encouraged me, and if you look at my family photo
you’ll see IT DID.
Now Music has been a big thing in my life, since
1974 to be exact. How can I be so exact? Well my brother went off to be a coal
miner then, that was his gap year before they were even invented. He did go off
to a very good University the year after, the very best to be exact. So while
he was a miner I was all alone in the homework room. To break the silence I
listened to a radio while I did my homework. So love of music while I struggled
with Latin homework, Latin is a form of torture but it does focus the mind, I’m
pleased to say I got a B. Remember the Ablative Absolute is like, say, remember
the Alamo.
Years later I used to go to a Folk club and see 3
bands every week. Later still I went to a Jazz club, mainly Trad Jazz, so I
know a good or bad musician when I hear one, and I know a good voice when I
hear one. If ever I develop cancer it will be because of all the years of smoke
while I listened to music. The idea for the Jazz band and Jazz funeral in The
Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker came from all those years of music.
I love my radio so much, it was and still is a
constant companion. Though before I got my own house I also listened to plays
on Radio 4, I can spot one from 100yards now, 20years of listening to Radio 4
before I took up a pen myself. But it’s music I want to tell you about. Music
is a reservoir of emotions, past and present. Elvis brings back memories, why?
My dad discovered Elvis in his 60s, there was a series of Elvis films on TV
over Christmas so my dad watched them all and was impressed. If there was a
good song on the radio dad would raise the volume and then lower it again when
the other rubbish returned. Dad would be shaving in the kitchen because the
bathroom was too cold and he’d come in the living room all lathered up and he’d
say he/she has a good voice.
Me, I’m very eclectic in my tastes though Regaee
does leave me cold, its washing machine music the same repeat motion/noise as a
washing machine. Yes I know a whole avalanche of criticism will fall on me, but
as Joanne used to say “we are all different” so let’s agree to disagree. What’s
amazing nowadays is that lots of the music I remember is 40years old. I was
young when I heard Eric Clapton for example because of bigger brothers, so now it makes me
realise I’m getting old, being called “grandpa” by teachers when I do the
school run is one example. I tend to listen to Magic radio on my dab radio,
because the music is good and they don’t prattle over the songs. But I still am
amazed at the age of some of the music, but it’s the music that’s old, NOT ME,
I still feel 20 in my head.
Today Lady Gaga is Queen, she has a great voice and
is very pretty, ok very sexy. Her videos are fun and she seems to know how to stay ahead of the
music and other press. You get so many wanna bes who if you listen to their
voice really are 2nd rate, 1 hit wonders. I
suppose the test is, if you listen to your dab radio and hear a voice do
you want to open your eyes and poke your head out from under the duvet. If the
voice is good then you will because the dab text will tell you who is singing.
On some of the tv talent shows the
voices are terrible, but when you hear a good voice you can press record on your Sky+ remote. If my dad
was still alive he’d raise the volume on the radio to listen to Lady Gaga, if
he saw her he might think she was a
modern Dorethy Lamore in a Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road Movie. But Gaga is
already making her own Road To movies and they really are a modern form of
Art.
0 Comments
Bring
On The TearsNov 11, '10 8:30 AM
for everyone
Bring On The Tears ©
By
Michael Casey
What makes you cry? I’ve just wiped a few tears away
before I started talking to you. Today in 11th Nov 2010, which is Remembrance
day, it is also my dad’s Birthday, he would have been 89 today.
My dad was a man of peace who spent his life in the
heat of the furnace,
The District Iron and Steel, Brasshouse Lane was
where he worked for 40 years. He came over to England in 1944, he was a
blacksmith. My father was a gentle man a kind and caring man, hew spoilt me he
always got me an extra ice cream when he was on holiday, my many siblings
called me Pet because of it.
If there was a film on tv and it was touching, my
dad used to clear his throat and pretend he
was getting a cold, he move to the kitchen to dab away those tears. Or
he’d put the kettle on. My dad was very very strong, after our mum had died he
said she was strong, he said mum was as strong as a horse, the highest
compliment a blacksmith can make. My mother died in her sleep next to her husband of nearly 50year. My brother climbed
into the bed and cradled her in his arms and tried CPR but she was already
dead. Eight weeks later, the same brother heard a noise, it was our dad falling
out of bed. My brother laid dad down on the bedroom floor flat and started CPR,
he screamed to another brother, 999.
My brother saved our dad.
I wrote all of this down in Padre Pio and Me. The
bottom line, I have a Shanghai wife and 2 bilingual daugthers all because of my
brother and Padre Pio too.
When we look at an object we have an association
too, an object is not just an object its an association too. The electrical socket for my washing machine
is there because my dad put it there, it doesn’t mean I cry every time I do the
laundry, but it does mean I smile. I have an old barn chair with the back
broken off, my mum used to stand on it
when she washed the outdoor windows, its been in my house nearly a quarter of a
century. This reminds me of my mum. In fact I sat on that chair with the old
typewriter balanced on a red stool when I wrote my comic novel
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, I can
even remember when and where we bought
that stool, it was 1973. Simple objects are full of memories and meaning. In
Citizen Cane it was Rosebud the sledge
that meant so much when Cane died.
I had a pair of Rosary beads but I felt they were
too gaudy, so I gave them to my mum. No doubt she used them well, she really
knew how to pray. That may have been 15 to 20 years ago, now she’s gone, but
my brother said he had a spare set of
Rosary bead would I like them. So he have them to me, he said they belonged to
our mum, and yes they were the very same pair. So love and “objects” had
performed a circle. My sister’s house has white lillies scattered all about her
front garden, they only appeared after our mum had died. Mum had sneaked up to
my sister’s house and planted them with Love. So after she was gone there
appeared a reminder of her and her Love.
I have a speaker in the corner of my living room, my
brother used to play Cream music on it via a reel to reel tape recorder. So
that too has an association. I did in fact meet Eric Clapton when I was working
in a 4star hotel, so that in a way was a circle.
There are many things and many lives that touch and
connect with one another, such as the lolly pop lady when you do the school
run, or the nice dog tied up outside a school waiting for the kids to finish school.
There are grand gestures too, such as in My Big Fat
Greek Wedding the dad buys his daughter a house, right next door to his own.
All this is love in many many forms and I’ve just touched the surface. I can
remember my mum crying her eyes out over a broken wooden coat hanger, why?
Because her mother had given it to her in 1944 when
she had left Kerry for England. Many things Bring On The Tears, but they are
tears of Love.
*******
well the 4 photos show the 4 of us, our family
0 Comments
Journalism
and All ThatNov 11, '10 7:13 AM
for everyone
Journalism and All that
Well the new look
Telegraph site is all sleek and
“sexy”, though it still stops me commenting in the right spot, so here’s
something in the wrong spot.
I read the article about US v UK journalism it was a
good read. But as we all know CNN is just a travelogue, I was in Shanghai on a
family holiday in 2007 when Iran kidnapped some UK sailors. My only news source
was CNN and the coverage was rubbish, and I mean rubbish. Piers Morgan taking
over from Larry King, good luck to him, Piers makes entertaining shows, worth a
look but still lightweight. Very watchable, but if somebody wants to give me
half his resources then I can do better.
From what I’ve seen of US journalism they are all
pompous when on tv, and when I used to read the NYT via internet the articles
were too long, just as preachers sermons can be too long. Just get to the
point. Yes I’ve enjoyed their journalism too, I can also say sometimes in The
Daily Telegraph the article is too long as well.
Articles should have the Goldilocks factor, not too
hot, not too cold, not too hard, not too soft, but just right. They should
appeal to both the Sun reader and The Telegraph reader, and if I may copy US
tv, Michael Casey’s blogs appear in both MySun and MyTelegraph not to mention
www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com Happy Reading viewers.
Below are our photos, the modern Adams Family
0 Comments
Football
CrazyNov 6, '10 8:21 AM
for everyone
I speak as a football naive, I've only been to two
matches in my life. It was Villa v Arsenal and Villa v Derby maybe 12 years
ago.
But as I said to Barry at the time the crowd was
alive, it was like a hugh cat moving and swaying reacting to the play on the
pitch. The 1st match I was above the goal very high up. The 2nd match I was
with Chris in the middle just a few rows up. Live football cannot be beaten, I
cann't really explain how it looks and how it feels. Its like you're in a hugh
jelly that you put on the washing machine and then somebody switches the
washing machine on, so you wobble and wobble and you have no control. Thats what a football
crowd feels like. So much mass movement, so much excitement, 50,000 people screaming and shouting, laughing and crying.
The grass so very very green.
This is live football and when you have a master,
and here you can take your pick from any team, ManU, Villa, Chelsea and all the
other teams. When you have a master on the pitch it really is The Theatre Of
Football. Act One, Act Two and even a few dodgy acts trying to impress the Ref,
all of this is football. Live is always best. We've just moved up to a new big
lcd tv this year, the difference to everything and to football is amazing. I
imagine Sky's 3D is going to be totally fantastic too. Footballers are today's
Gladiators, instead of Nero or any other Caesar raising his thumb or condemning
to death, now we have Sir Alex, and the other managers raising their
thumbs from their honoured position in the stands. It's an old quote but a true
one, "is it a matter of life or death?" No its more important than
that.
I have a lot to learn about football, but I do know
one thing, the game is better when all of the players are on the pitch
in their natural area and not in self imposed
"cages" whatever those "cages" are. For footballers are like lions, they are born free, free as
the wind, chasing and ducking and diving, their prey is the football, and the
net is their home.
0 Comments
Teddy
Bear CullNov 3, '10 7:07 PM
for everyone
Teddy Bear Cull ©
By
Michael Casey
Well we all know about Teddy Roosevelt and how he
could not bring himself to shoot a bear while out hunting. Teddy Bear came into
existence. Thousands of bears, millions of bears, probably more bears than
there are people in China have “Lived” thanks to teddy. I bought my future wife
a panda when we first met, the panda was
made in China, just as she was. In fact
she used to say I was her Panda before she changed her mind and called me Panzi
which means FAT FAT BOY. So that panda
travelled from China to England and then back to China, and then she brought it
back home to England when she came back
to me, that’s 15,000 miles by my reckoning. My daughters have been back and
forth a few times, when you marry a Shanghai girl international travel is
inevitable.
Girls just love their teddy bears too, my smallest
just adores Winnie the Pooh, she was saying a few hours ago she wished she
could have a Winnie the pooh bed and carpet and wallpaper, basically everything
that could possibly be Winnie the Pooh. My girls have received lots of cuddly
toys, teddy bears and all things cuddly. I did a count a while back and I
stopped at 40. These toys live behind the settee next to the vacuum cleaner and
my old collection of CDs. Every now and then my small daughter drags them out
from the 3 Iceland carrier bags and makes them pay attention, she plays teacher
and they are her class. She then takes the register before starting to read to
them. The cuddly toys sit up straight listening eagerly while she reads to
them, she is quite a strict teacher.
Now a while back while the wife was tidying up the
plastic bag with the cuddly toys broke open scattering teddies everywhere. So
we had to have a cull, you have to feed
fizzy pop gently to the toys until they fall asleep only to awake at the North
Pole where Santa welcomes them and makes them as good as new until they become
new toys for new owners. We had to have another cull today, my small daughter
separated the sheep from the goats so to speak. Then the unwanted toys were
placed in an Iceland carrier next to the front door, no fizzy pop for them,
just a plastic bag, in the morning they will find themselves in a charity shop
soon to have new children to love them. There was one cuddly toy a hush puppy dog that we had brought back
from Florida years ago neither of my
girls liked it, but I do so I have rescued him from the Iceland bag, he can
live on top of my bedroom Dab radio. I cannot decide what to call the dog, my
new best friend, HushPuppy maybe, or Subway the dog.
Christmas is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have
been saved and will decorate our house one Christmas gets nearer. For now my
daughter has arranged them on top of the
piano, looking over my shoulder I can see, Winnie the Pooh(of course), Tigger
and another Winnie the Pooh, a snowman with bells, a cat from Shanghai who’s
chasing Minnie Mouse along the keys, it sounds like Jazz and finally there is a
smiling teddy with Christmas hat and gloves on. Well I hope the toys find nice
new homes via the Charity shop, as for me I hope HushPuppy/Subway hasn’t left
any messages on my Dab radio.
Terra Cotta Army not in China but a copy in Germany
near Frankfurt/Wellburg
I was there in 2008 its well worth a look
0 Comments
From
Fireworks to The GraveOct 31, '10 7:27 PM
for everyone
From Fireworks to The Grave ©
By
Michael Casey
The girls were singing at a Wedding Yesterday morning, they came home
telling us about the bride and groom. They also heard that there was a
fireworks display that night. They asked
could they go, so I said yes if they behaved.
They behaved all afternoon, so at half past six I
nagged them top put on full winter gear, hat, coat, scarf and gloves. They
wouldn’t believe me that it would be that cold outside but I explained it
would. So reluctantly they put all the layers on. The witch as we call my wife
drove up to the firework display. It was behind the church where they had been
singing a few hours earlier. My wife, or the witch said she’d collect us a few
hours later, she said I could ring her. Only I had forgotten to bring the
mobile phone, I have only acquired a mobile phone this year and I don’t really
know how to use it, an I don’t really want it either, its for emergencies, its
on the Asda tariff because that’s the cheapest. Its my wife’s 1st phone. Anyway
we said goodbye and we went to watch the firework show.
Only there was a problem, the price to attend was
too much, I have to watch every penny at the moment and I didn’t think it was
worth it anyway. So we stood on the pavement in front and to one side of the
church. From that vantage point we enjoyed the fireworks display, a bit like
watching tv though your neighbours window. There were a few other families who did the same. So we
watched the fireworks while my 9 year old filmed it on our old digital camera,
she was very pleased with her efforts. I promised them we’d buy sweets and pop
to make up for not seeing the fireworks display officially. My girls understood
and after 20mins of illegal watching of fireworks we started to walk home. As I
had forgotten the phone we’d have to walk and not get a lift from mum. But I do
know how to improvise, it’s a gift I do have.
We stopped at the 1st sweet shop and they roamed around,
but girls being girls they could not make up their minds, so they left that
sweet shop with nothing. Now from the church to our house is a good 25min walk and is twisty and curvy and runs
alongside the woods at Warley Woods and golf course. So as its was the Eve of
Haloween I asked them did they want to walk through the dark woods. No
they both said, but I knew they would
like it so we crossed on the crossings which cross the race track of a road.
The boldly we went a few yards into the dark dark woods. We were only there for a minute but it was a
good thing to do so close to Halloween. Then we crossed back to the safer side
of the road. My smallest daughter wanted a rest so we stopped at a bus stop and sat on the plastic seats, I told them
that I had a bus pass, would they like me to leave them there while I jumped on
the bus.
After a couple of minutes rest we resumed our trek
back, were we like the Von Trapp family, no Swiss mountains for us, only the
long and winding road. The kids could see the retaining wall of their school,
from that point on, even in the dark they knew their way home. Spirits lifted I
had an idea. My big daughter’s friend lived just down the road on a side road.
So when we were outside her friends house we did ghostly noises, just like in
Michael Jackson’s Thriller. I thought I made the best screams. Sadly no lights
went on in the house, not unless we had given her nan a heart attack.
Further down the road by the light of a front room
we could see a child in a witches
Hat he was pretending to be a witch. It turned out
that he was a friend of my other
daughter, this was too good an
opportunity to miss, so again we made ghost and ghoul noises. The child inside
lifted the curtain to check was the devil outside, no it was only us. My big
daughter laughed and laughed when she say his face appear, she hid beneath the
high retaining front wall and then ran laughing to use further down the road.
We went to Thimbermill and got our chocolate and Dr
Pepper, we had had some fun after all. My small daughter had said when we were
in the dark dark park that she had
Seen a cross, we were in a graveyard. I think it was
the support posts for a sapling, not unless it was….
Finally home we decided to scare mum, our resident
witch, so my big daughter did her big scream and she managed to scare the
neighbours over the road.
but mum had the last laugh, she was sitting in dark
watching a Chinese movie on the internet so when we entered the house she
scared us.
Well that’s how we enjoyed our Saturday night.
Tonight 31st Oct 2010 we had several trick or treats at the door, so I just
screamed back I’mdead,” followed by my best Vincent Price scream/laugh. But the
kids and parents weren’t impressed. Today does mark an anniversary, its 11years
since I was made redundant from CAN
been a few varied years, and best of all I have two daughters whom I can
stroll in the dark with
Don’t tell anybody though, my witch is more like
Bewitched
0 Comments
My
ArmchairOct 25, '10 7:44 AM
for everyone
I did actually bust my armchair the other day. My
kids do sit on the arm rests with me while we watch films, Camp Rock, High
School Musical etc for the zillionth time.
My wife used to sit on my lap in my rocking chair,
the rocking chair lasted 18 years. So the current armchair may be 6 years old.
I was lucky with the rocking chair because it was part of a suite, in fact it
was the only reason I bought the suite.
As for the current armchair it
was part of a suite too but the customer did not want it so I picked it up
cheap for £45, yes only £45. All my girls do squeeze onto it while they watch
Phoenix TV, now the bottom has fallen out of the chair, we've had to put a big
cushion under the seat of the chair. So that'll do until we can save up for a
new armchair. I had a quick look in two furniture shops and its £200 plus just
for a single armchair. I will go back to the same furniture shop where I picked
up my bargain 6 years ago, but I'm not holding my breath.
Rocking chairs are great and I'd love to have
another furnished rocking chair, perhaps I could be a rocking chair tester, or
the NHS could send me one of their new vibrating chairs. A good chair is a
thing of beauty in itself, and the rocking is very soothing too, and with a
nice drink in your hand then that is poetry in itself. Cue Queen's Song We Will
Rock You.
When our dog long ago broke its pelvis he was saved
by the vet, and we placed him in our dad's old armchair when the dog came home.
When our dad came home from the steelworks the poor dog got out of the armchair
because he knew it was dad's chair, I remember it so well. Our cat used to
enjoy an armchair too, soft and cosy, she'd fall asleep purring like a Jaguar
car.
So the point of all this musing? Enjoy your
armchair, because your kids and wife and finally grandkids love that chair too,
in one object you capture the word family.
p.s. cross your fingers so I find a cheap
replacement
Michael
