Just say NO x 1,000,000

Just say NO x 1,000,000 ©

By Michael Casey

I don’t know about you but I hate being pestered in the street for whatever reason. I have eyes and ears I can see and decide for myself. So I can cross the road and be a bad Samaritan, or I can be a good Samaritan. I can give a packet of biscuits to the ever growing beggar population in our area, or to our regular Big Issue sellers outside our supermarkets.

It’s up to me, to my conscience, to my values. I decide if I want to help, or if I think they are just cluttering up the street and bringing down the area even more. It’s up to me, it’s up to you, it’s up to all of us. We all can and do make up our own minds. I do get a regular God Bless from my Big Issue saleslady, her children like chocolate by the way. I do in fact treasure that God Bless, as you know I have now had 1 year of Grace after my unplanned quadruple heart bypass. So who knows it may be her God Bless that has helped keep me here in the land of the living. It may even be her God Bless that gets me into Heaven and keeps me from the Fires of Hell, so think about that. And maybe you’ll regularly donate a packet of chocolate biscuits to her and her children, it could be the ultimate insurance policy.

So you’ve had a glimpse into my heart and even soul. However if its mad people handing out leaflets for some religious cult, they could worship toilets and flushing is their way of praying. Can you think of some other religious cult that attracts the rich and famous, and gullible? Well whatever they believe in, I don’t want to be pestered on the high street or in the city centre, I just want to be left alone. I am a catholic from the nipple, see photo that goes with this piece.

My one trick is to speak Italian as they lean into my own personal space, No Parlare Inglese I say in my best fake accent, or accident as my Shanghai wife sometimes says. I can also use French or Spanish or German. Or I point to my ears and feign deafness. What I’d really love to do is what happened in Airplane, if you have good memories you’ll remember for yourselves, if not go watch the film. Sorry the dustbin is over there, or I’m not collecting rubbish today, or no thanks my diarrhoea is much better today, are some of my replies.

Then you walk on past the sad people, they may even been double glazing salespeople, or ambulance chasing lawyers, who are the worst kind of people. And on it goes. However what is even worse are cold callers on the phone. Why are the cold callers even worse? The worst of the worst. Because they invade your very home. Imagine you are in the bath and a man with a clipboard appears from  under the toilet seat, demanding you do a survey. Or you are admiring yourself in mirror, naked as you have just got out the bath, when a man appears from inside the wardrobe. He wants to know about your finances.

These things don’t happen, well not unless you are a drinker or taking illegal substances, or plant food which is legal but should never go up your nose. Anyway the next worse thing is the phone caller, from far far away in the land of Shrek. They just won’t take no for an answer. You can tell them you are dead, that you are a ghost or John Doe and your wife is Jane Doe. Then you curse and hang up. You were just about to watch The Voice on tv, or put on your wife’s clothes, cross dressing is your religion, that’s why you shaved your legs and were admiring yourself in the mirror.

Then they ring two hours later, just as you and your wife, or somebody else’s wife, it is Tuesday after all, anyway you were about to have relations, and this does not mean your brothers are coming around to play Monopoly either. Relations not Relations. So you answer the phone and you hear the static from an international call centre, and there is even a 3 second time delay. They want you to tell them everything, even your inside leg. So you swear at them in 3 languages. And you ask them do they know the meaning of this crude word in English. Then the phone goes dead. Victory.

The next day just as you are on the toilet the phone rings, you think is John with results of that big tender you put in, so you hurry, and soil your pants, then you fall down the stairs and split your soiled pants. You answer the phone, they want you to confirm who you are. After falling down the stairs and having split your soiled pants you don’t know who you are, you are just very angry. They want you to confirm you address, so boiling over with rage you tell them, I am Dr John Doe, 27 Cemetery Lane, Wokingham, Kent, WK9 7XP  The guy on the phone is triumphant, he gets his £5 bonus, enough for a month’s worth of rice.

And why does the international nuisance caller want your address that he’s found on the Internet from when you used to live in England. Because there is a toilet paper promotion and they want to send you some free samples. David Walliams must have got his idea for Billionaire Boy because he too had these persistent nuisance calls.

Nobel and Me

Michael Casey shared a link.

19 minutes ago near Birmingham

Something from 7 years ago when my life changed

Nobel and Me, or what people say behind your back

Tuesday, July 21, 2009, 07:52 PM GMT [General]

Nobel read his own obituary and was so shocked by what he read that he changed. When you leave a job people say goodbye or good riddance to bad rubbish. It can be quiet a shock. I've been deeply shocked and humbled by what one of the late shift secretaries said to me an hour ago. At least I'm no Nobel.

People also shake your hand and say keep in touch, then forget who you are once they have their 2nd drink. People can get sad and weepy, I'll miss you all.

What's the truth behind all these emotions? I'll find out on Friday when my Life changes again. 10years ago was the last time I was made redundant. 10 years ago I had finally met the right one, and sent her back to Shanghai to tell her family all my bad points, 6 months later she came back to me.

Now 10 years on, we're married with 2 beautiful girls, and they are in Shanghai as I talk to you, Summer with the Mother in Law, Me I'm here Home Alone and about to be redundant. I still dream of getting my 2 books published, or getting a play or two on the stage, www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com is where my "talent" is wheel clamped in Cyber Space. Will some kind soul pay the "fine" and unleash my writing onto a pubic that loves Big Brother and Britains Got Talent. While I look for a new job and my CV fights it out with other CVs for a job, any job will do, to paraphase Joseph and his Technicoloured Dreamcoat. Perhaps Andrew Lloyd Webber could turn my comedy play Shoplife into a Musical with the "Hairy Angel" in the lead. Would the Public like that or would they prefer Dennis Norton in another show.

Who knows or who cares? But at least I'm NOT Nobel.

WE didn't get a dog day

We Didn’t Get a Dog Day ©

By Michael Casey

Veronica sent me a message tonight so I thought I’d try out this joke on her to see if she’s on my wavelength. 13^th Jan, in 2 days’ time it’s a year since my big Op. I had told my nagging daughters they could have a dog if I died and a cat if I had a heart attack, so Fate being Tempted I had a totally unplanned Quadruple heart bypass. So I was talking to my daughter, my small daughter and I said should we celebrate my first anniversary, and I called it We Didn’t Get a Dog Day. She thought for a moment and said we should call it Two in One, as Totoro our cat behaves like a dog.

Totoro will fetch a piece of scrunched up Aldi till receipt if you throw it, she will dribble better than Rooney all over our living room carpet. She also will come running to the sound of roast chicken being removed from plastic wrapping paper. Totoro will also SIT on command, and stand up on 2 legs like a Meerkat while she decides what she wants from you.

Totoro will sit on the piano like a candelabra, waiting for my daughters to start and play. When they are not here she’ll just free run all over the piano and up the sofa and launch herself onto the bookcase. Luckily she hasn’t broken my cheap hifi yet. The piano is kept closed at all times otherwise she would have broken it by now.

Totoro’s other hobby is sitting in the front room window watching the world go by. That’s when she has finished jumping up and tearing the net curtains. She also likes tunnelling too, just like that Mexican drugs baron in the dirt vest, only in her case its going under the throw cover for the chair in the window, then she falls asleep. The throw is a good blanket after all.

Speaking of sleeping, Totoro is a house cat now, ever since I let her out and she came back with fleas, it was decided by the management, my 3 girls that is, that she would not be let outside. Instead she has the full run of the entire house, if you leave the stairs unguarded she’ll race upstairs and disappear for hours, or until she hears the sound of a chicken wrapper being opened.  

Totoro will sleep on a bed, or under a bed, or under the duvet, or on a cupboard, or if she can prize a door open she’ll sleep in a wardrobe. She just likes sleeping, anywhere. Her favourite place is in fact under my bed as it’s the warmest place in the house thanks to the way our central heating works, it is South facing too, so first she’ll sunbathe then she go under the bed for 40 winks, or 400 in her case.

In exchange for this lifestyle she has to help my big daughter with her homework. This means she gets stoked while my daughter learns all her science, which is a lot as my daughter wants to be a doctor. So my daughter will be Dr Casey Totoro, it has a miaow to it don’t you think?

Well Veronica I’ve mentioned you name twice and we’ve only just met, so I’ll throw in the towel now, I have to take some pain killers, as Arthur has come out to play now.

Cheerio, and thank God they didn’t get a dog.

Influence

Influence ©

By Michael Casey

Under the influence, is when you have had too much booze and you do something bad or stupid. But having influence is even better, especially if you don’t have responsibility, you can get the good result without having to pay for it. Grandparents can enjoy their grandkids but hand them back afterwards, they don’t have to tidy up their mess. Because of my age I’m mistaken for my kids’ granddad, so do I have influence or responsibility?

I try to influence my kids by sharing the films we watch together, be it a Jane Eyre or a Sandra Bullock film, or I try to introduce them to quality music, my 12 year old has developed a liking for Sinatra. So at every stage of their early life I’m encouraging and influencing them. My 14 year old wants to be a Dr, 2 years ago it was Vet, now its Dr, and judging from her test results, Dr it will be. So how did that happen? My dad was a blacksmith and then spent 40 years in a steelworks. Her  Shanghai granddad was an estate agent, this is the closest translation I ever got. Her Shanghai granny was an accountant for the bus company, my mum was a full time housewife.

Did seeing my health suddenly nosedive, first with arthritis which I inherited from my mum, and then heart problem which I inherited from my dad, did this influence my daughter’s life choice. I have joked to Ken when we were waiting in Argos if I were adopted maybe I’d never have gotten these diseases. I am very lucky though, a neighbour died the other week who was of similar age as me, his heart gave out, his daughters are in the same school as ours.

In other areas of life influence can help you, or hinder you. I have sent the usual letters to publishers and media about my writing, and have had great replies. The trick is finding that needle in the haystack and then getting published or on the radio. Though I did have a theatre say they would produce my play Shoplife back in 1989. And I did have a producer look at my novel with a view to filming it. The thing is though is finding somebody with influence, to take a look.

There are always smart Alecs who just want to appear smart and never help, discouraging is their game, a clique which is by invite only, and they will never help anybody. They boast they are published authors, the American terminology. The History of the American Porn Star is their only book, it sold 30 million, only because it had pictures in it. Though scientific writers do make lots of money as its hard work, and only a very few dedicated people are capable of writing them.

So nowadays I am only ½ hearted in my attempts at being published, so I contact people with influence  in the vain hope that they may help get exposure for my writing. Or I tell people I meet to google michaelgcasey to find me and my words, that’s the only influence I have.

Times Tables

Times Tables ©

By Michael Casey

It’s the turn of the New Year, 2016 is here and I’m amazed by all the fuss in the Press about Times Tables. The Government want kids to know them by the age of 11, and we get a Teaching Backlash in reply. I learnt mine when I was 8 and that was late, and how was I incentivised? I got 4 of the best on my bum, so the next time of asking I knew them. We were classed as the clever 4 in the class so Mr Gallagher expected us to know them, he threatened to test us for ages, until finally he did. As I said the next time I knew them, and I started to read by the yard, so he did change my life for the better.

I do believe in learning by rote, it works, so use it. I do believe in using any trick in the book, if it works use it. I do believe in a little bit often. That’s how I learnt my Spanish again after a gap of 25 years. I was also an Esol English teacher for a year, and I even got called excellent twice and exemplary on my external assessment. With my students I told them to fit their studies around their day, and reward themselves with chocolate, or loser’s forfeit anything to make learning fun. Learn 10 sentences a day, that’s 70 a week of 280 a month, which is a very good grounding. The thing I stressed was they should read things aloud, and when speaking put on a fake English accent just for fun, because it really does help.

Coming back to Times Tables, they are such a fundamental thing, I’d say kids should know them by 7. Learn them by rote, take a whole week to learn them. Then explain about a family of octopuses needing to know their Times Tables, how the number 10 and money connect…. All very simple fun stuff, but get the bedrock down first. Once the bedrock is down then you can build on it, it’s a shallow excuse to say it’s too hard, it’s the a b c of maths, we teach  a b c to kids as soon as they come to school, so why don’t we do the same with numbers?

There is too much technology and that can blind us, make us lazy and kids lazy in turn. Kids don’t believe you when you say nobody had a phone at home, only the rich. Tell kids you remember colour tv coming out, not to mention remote controls, and having a 4^th tv channel was amazing, they just won’t believe you. Our kids are the Google generation, the cut and paste but know nothing generation. We’ve also read in the Press that some foreign students just cut and paste, I know some of my students just looked at me as if I was an idiot if I explained exam standards. But Sir, we have to cheat, how else would we pass. Integrity and Pride were not in their dictionary.

Which brings me back to Times Tables in schools, they are so important, without the firm foundations things just topple over. Another figure in the weekend’s Press, 20% of students fail to get the 5 good GCSEs. Teaching is not a democracy, it does not have to be a dictatorship, but pandering to kids or students is a mistake.

You are here to learn, not play games and have pretty work books, nor demand old statues should be removed, you are here to learn. Technology is great and modern schools are like PC World, but if kids can’t work it out in their head or with pen and paper then their time has been wasted at school. Examples such as what is the best value in a shop, it’s not always the big box is cheaper, or this 4 pack of lager is better that 4 pack. If you don’t know your times tables you’ll be less drunk by the end of the night.

The basics are always the foundations which lead to glory, 50 years after getting the pump on my bum, I still know my times tables. 40 years after my 0 Levels I still know my French. Mr Notzing my French teacher tested us every week for the 4 years I was in his class. Everybody groaned when we heard him tearing up paper to give us before he tested us, every week for 4 years.

Primary teaching is different, I come from a family of teachers. Without teaching the basics and making it fun kids never learn anything. Then as you grow older you should realise you need to put more effort into your own education, the teacher does less and you do more. The teacher is a signpost, and not just a human Google, you have to balance what you read and evaluate it, with their guidance.

That’s all for today, I could say more, a year ago I started tests in hospital, without all the hospital specialists I may have not been here today to talk to you. So thanks again to City and QE hospitals Cardiac Crews, I sure they all know their Times Tables.

More Bad Habits 2016

More Bad Habits 2016 ©

By Michael Casey

Well its January 1^st 2016, a Friday, and we’re all still alive. I won’t bore you too much but 2015 WAS the worst year of my life, if you go by pain. I really would like those football billionaires to each put a million in a pot and use it for something useful, instead of just massaging their egos. So I’ll say pain relief centre would be a great investment, if only because it would help get their star players back on the pitch faster, and it would help Joe Bloggs too. So think about it.

Now one of my many bad habits is looking at www.rightmove.co.uk and B17, why, because that is where I’d like to live. I change my desktop background regularly, when I see a nice house I put it as my background, then when it’s sold I change my background to another nice house. Sad, maybe, but it does cheer me up, though when our new carpets arrive that’ll be nice, until our elephants destroy them.

I will still look at the nice houses in B17, it is my hobby, when I have enough energy I may even walk around the neighbourhood and pretend I live there. I still only have so much energy in the day post-surgery and with arthritis attacking me. This is very annoying, as I walked 20 miles or 30k a week a year ago before I had my operation. Yes up to 4 miles or 6k every day. So I’m a shadow of myself. I’ve turned into a spokesman for pain, not the job I envisioned but if it makes some of you think then that’s good.

Now, other bad habits, as children we may have picked our nose and rubbed it on the wall. My small daughter used to enjoy that habit, luckily she was too small to rub it on the paintings on the wall, it would have made grass look much greener, more lifelike.  Her sister has her own bad habits, such as leaving a trail of paper everywhere, so her boogies are gift wrapped, and stuck down the side of all the chairs, or on the floor. But at least that is an improvement on rubbing them to wall.

Your kids always run around the house barefooted, so you spend your time screaming “slippers and socks” as they never seem to realise where their colds and sniffles come from. There is no Snot Fairy who delivers them, directly up their nose, it’s the Barefoot Fairy who creeps up from the floor and up their spine and then to their nose. Before mum or dad has to carry them up to bed, and if you are lucky they don’t puke all over you. It’s at times like these you wonder why did you want kids in the first place. Then your child sleepily asks for a kiss, before rolling over, and farts in your face.

In today’s world the mobile phone, or just phone as kids call it, because doesn’t everybody have a mobile? The phone is a big big big BAD habit. My kids don’t believe me that we never had a phone in our house, it was after I had left home that we got one. When our lodger had his final heart attack and I was pumping on his chest, I was only 20 at the time, I had to run to our neighbours and ask them to ring for an ambulance.

So nowadays your kids are always on the phone. They used to ask for more money for credit, all the time, so you just stopped giving it to them. But this does not stop the phoning, why because there is Snapchat or some other invention of the Devil. So long as you have Broadband in your house they can talk to their friends, which is good in a way because YOU do not have to pick up their phone bill.

You have strangers in the same house, as everybody is on their phone talking to their friends or Pinteresting, and  not talking to their mum or dad or brothers and sisters. I hate the word siblings, sounds like a disease you get if you don’t put on your slippers and socks, and you end up puking on your dad or farting in his face when he puts you to bed with a case of siblings, brought on by not wearing your slippers or socks.

Well I’ll leave it there for today Friday 1^st January 2016, one bad habit I should break this year, I should remember to thank God  more for still being alive, though sometimes the pain is unbearable. So any football people reading this, a national pain centre would benefit the players and all the Joe Bloggs fans.