The Sweet Smell of Perfumed Feet

The Sweet Smell of Perfumed Feet ©

By Michael Casey

The Caseys have  a long tradition of smelly feet, my dad worked in a steel works for 40 years so he had a good excuse. After a 10, 12 or even 16 hour shift mum would pull his socks off with the tongs she used to do the washing with in the old fashioned twin tub washing machine. It was a miracle for her when she allowed dad to get her an automatic washing machine after decades of the twin tub and using a mangle.

The heat in the steel works practically glues dad’s socks to his feet, hence mum using the wooden tongs, almost like joined chop sticks. Was that a pointer to my future but we never knew?  Dad would wash his feet in the bowl in the living room, before stating it was so good to have clean feet. Mum was not Veronica in the Bible, but close enough, close enough indeed. Afterwards the bowl of water was thrown away, and the bowl rinsed, it was later used to do the washing up of the dishes after we had dinner, yes the same bowl. Sometime a little Jeyes Fluid was used to clean dad’s feet, which is used normally to clean drains.

As for me we went on a school field trip to Romsley when I was 12, it lasted a week and was intended to teach townies about the Countryside, obviously with my family background  I did have some knowledge already. So we went to a pond to catch tadpoles in a little net attached to a bamboo pole, again was this Fate pointing to my future? I dived forward tin the pond and my wellingtons filled with water, so I had to take them off and empty the water from them.

Then like Winnie the Pooh following Christopher Robin we followed our teacher around all day. Then we returned to the coach that would take us back to Bellbroughton where we stayed all week, if I’m wrong I’m sure  Big D or rather Big D PhD will remember and email me. On the coach my socks had slipped down so I had to remove the wellington to readjust my sock. As the stench from my feet spread from my  feet there was mass panic in the ranks and people forced their heads out of the coach windows. So as you can imagine I am well remembered because of that episode.

Moving on a generation, my own daughter, the Doctor in waiting has smelly feet, very smelly feet. My Ck1 which lasts me a year ran out last night, so I started another bottle. When you have your own girls they will encourage you both to shave and to splash a little something on your face. I also have an old bottle of Jean Paul Gautier, you know the one with the man’s torso bottle design, the blue bottle. Anyway today I decided we’d have a smell test.

The girls were sat there laughing and joking after they had had Bird’s Eye Fish Fingers, which  is a treat of you live on Chinese food cooked by Shanghai mum, it’s the opposite to full English people if you like. So I got my bottles of smelly stuff out and put it on the table. Ck1, Jean Paul Gautier and I’d refilled the empty Ck1 bottle with water. So we would do a smell test.

To do it properly you have to have testers so you can wand the scent under your nose, you know little pieces of paper to spray the scent on. As we didn’t have any I improvised by tearing up the Birds Eye Fish Fingers packaging card  from the box and sprayed three samples on to 3 pieces of paper. Ck1 water, Ck1 new bottle and the Jean Paul Gautier. Then we smelt them in turn and the girls gave their verdict.

They liked the Ck1 best, it is a bisexual, or rather I should say suited for both male and female, unisex is the correct word, I just had to ask my Doctor in waiting. 

You can see how by strangling language I get some of my comedy, directly and indirectly. My daughters don’t really like the JPG so I won’t buy any more in future not unless the man himself reads this and would like to send me a 200ml bottle of his other creations. In return I’ll send him my 10 books and a photo of me, via email. I do have some French readers but who they are I do not know, not unless it’s Bardot.

My small daughter could not resist the temptation so she sprayed Ck1 all over my big daughter’s feet. Totoro passed by and sniffed them before dashing upstairs to hide under the beds, so what that meant I do not know. What I do know though is that a bit of smelly stuff on your face after you shave is nice, so Ck1 is the one for me, or anything if it’s free.

enjoy the photos too

What does it mean?

What does it mean? ©

By Michael Casey

Words have meaning words have power, they shine a light or they obscure.  Brexit means Brexit says Theresa May, which means there is no going back, she has to follow the will of the people as voted in the Referendum. Over in USA we have Donald Trump the Homer Simpson of  USA Politics, saying this and denying that, appealing to the Simpsons all over the country, so immediately Republicans will hate me.

You still have a brain so use it, never give anybody carte blanche or you will be sold into slavery of the soul, and in the end saving your soul is the most important thing you do in this life. Personally I’d vote Bloomberg but I’m not a citizen and he’s not on the ballot.

So what do words mean? I’d build a wall, will he really spend billions on building a wall, Kennedy stood by the wall and said Ich bin ein Berliner, Reagan said tear down that wall, now Trump is saying in America, land of the free, build a wall and make it tall. It’s like something from a Fairy Tale, Trump behaves like a donkey, instead of an elephant who never forgets.

The elephant remembers its friends and stands by them through thick and thin and will trumpet to defend and rally support. Does Trump do that, no he’s like a tease, maybe I will and maybe I won’t, he thinks it’s good bargaining in fact it just racks everybody off, and trust is lost all around. He is as stubborn and no amount of calling him out makes any difference, because he is as stubborn as a mule, he has grown donkey ears that’s why he leaves the baseball cap on.

Yes he is rich and yes he has given work, this is great and laudable, but is it all mortgaged to the hilt, is he really bankrupt, one payment away from disaster, only the tax details will tell. Maybe he is the product of the broken politics in the USA, nobody bothers to vote, walls are built to stop people getting to the polls, so in the end you get Homer Simpson running for President, it was actually foretold in a Simpson episode, art imitates life or so I’m told.

Sometimes it is the devil’s alternative, a donkey or an elephant, as I said I’d vote for Bloomberg, and yes I’ve used your symbols to highlight character differences in reverse. So it’s up to you decide what is best not just for the USA but for the world itself, or will Trump win and get impeached within a year, that’s if there’s no big flash on all our horizons.  

So why do you want to be a DJ with Pickle 78.8

So Why do you want to be a DJ with Pickle 78.8 ? ©

By Michael Casey

Thank you for coming Mr Casey, you prefer being called Michael. Sorry but we do like titles here at Pickle 78.8, after all we have Dr, Prof, the Teacher and all many of prefixes, it impresses our vacuous listeners. So Mr Casey it’ll have to be, is that all right Mr Casey.

Its fine, you were called Mr Casey at the hotel you used to work for as there were 5 or more Michaels, were people taking the Michael or did they just like angels. Now can you tell me why you want to work for Pickle 78.8. Because people like your voice, they think you sound like a news reader. Let me hear you read the headlines from the newspaper, oh you really do sound like a newsreader. We could get you to do the news reading as well, that’d be multitasking, the owner will be impressed.

What other reasons do you have for wanting to come and work for us here at Pickle 78.8, you need a job and your wife will beat you if you don’t bring some money in. So you are a battered husband, and you actually wrote a play called Battered Husband, was it therapy for your mental anguish. No, it was a way of taking the mick about her behind her back. Our owner is female, you have heard of Moto Goto the Japanese fashion model, she just made too much money from her art house movies she decided to get into radio stations. She just loves Branston Pickle so she decided to call her radio station Pickle  in honour of it, that and the famous scene from one of her movies where she is covered in pickle.

ever heard of her, me neither but money talks and cash screams, that was a title of one of her other art house movies, she was covered in money and the wind blew. But enough about her, this is just an investment for her, for you and me Radio is our life. So tell me what you have to offer. You know how to use a turntable and promise never to get fluff on the needle. That’s laudable, but it’s all on computer now, you started on computers back in 1978, well I suppose that’ll help.

What kind of music do you like? John Denver is one of your favourites as well as Jim Reeves, a bit of Barry Manilow. You have not heard of Garage or Grunge or a bit of Techno, what about House. You always listen to Today in the House on Radio Four before the midnight news, isn’t that about politics and parliament. Ed Balls is in Strictly Come Dancing this year, so he knows how to move, so doesn’t that count for anything. Only if he wins, or Corbyn shaves his beard off.

You know we have a play list, yes 50 tracks that everybody will hear whether they like them or not, ad infinitum until we can afford to pay for another 50 tracks. WE do play Gangham Style 10 times a day too, our owner likes it so we play it. She used it in her keep fit video, so we play it. Now can you speak gibberish for hours at a time, just talking about yourself and how you nearly puked on Broad Street at the weekend, cos you are a lad a fast talking ineloquent lad. You were the leader of a school debating society, but you can pretend to be a happening lad, whatever that is.

Now are you prepared to dress up as a sumo and have embarrassing photos taken for the website, our Japanese owner insists on this. Not a problem, have we not seen images on Google of michaelgcasey, we haven’t but we will look.

ow if you are prepared to do the news reading as well then we will pay you 3 times what you used to earn when you had a proper job. Nobody talks over the news but remember to fade out and talk over all the music, that’s if we can call it music. I’m sure you’ll be a valued member of the team, if not Kenny Everett will spin in his grave.   

 

So why do you want to be a member of our club?

So why do you want to be a member of our club? ©

By Michael Casey

Come in, take a seat, make yourself at home, we don’t stand on ceremony here, at the Club. Now before we start you take sugar in your tea? Have to ask, the Prime Minister is a diabetic you know so we always ask, just in case she pops in for a cuppa.  I’ve got a few hobnobs on a plate for you as well. Yes go ahead and dunk your biscuit into the tea, we’re not snobs you know, I’ll let you into a secret Theresa is a dunka, her whole crew are dunkas, the amount of biscuits they get through when they pass by all blue lights flashing. Thank God she’s not Obaba, his crew is 200 I believe, the cost of the free hobnobs would be enormous. We don’t charge her for tea and biscuits it’s an honour after all, and we won’t be getting any honours for the honour if you know what I mean.

Now I see you haven’t filled in an application form, can you tell me why Mr Casey, oh you prefer being called Michael, just plain Michael, you don’t expect any honours either, your dad used to ask was there any money attached to the honour. And as there wasn’t they could kiss his arse, or he’d lift his leg and fart, which added to the global warming.

You have not filled in the form because your hand writing is terrible, like drunken spiders on acid, if I forgive the poetic licence. And what is your occupation, you are a writer, a writer with bad handwriting. Perhaps you should have been a doctor, if you forgive my little joke. Your daughter’s going to be a doctor, touche, no really she’s determined to be a doctor. Well that’s nice, Harley Street could always do with new doctors.

What else do you do? You shop in Aldi, you could be the Times Aldi correspondent keeping the readership abreast of all the latest bargains. You do know though that Times readers are Lidl shoppers, apart from when they shop in Waitrose or have Ocado deliver it. What? Aldi is best, between you and me that’s where I shop myself.

And if Theresa and her crew decide to come around often I’ll be stocking up on biscuits from Aldi.  Give the Police and Prime Minister a tea and a hobnob biscuit and you can forget about those parking tickets f o r e v e r, it’s like have CD on your car. No not a CD player  in the car, but a CD plate, no not a dinner service. A CD plate, Corps Diplomatic  on your number plate. Those people never pay for parking tickets.

Now what interests have you, you like reading newspapers. Your fingers must be permanently black, not unless you wear gloves, forgive my little joke. You read them online for free, don’t tell Rupert he’s a member of the club, he’d be livid. What else do you like, you like watching films on tv, on Sky with your daughters. Rupert would be happy to hear that, he’s saving up to buy the BBC, but don’t quote me.

Now about the dress code, we are a gentleman’s club after all. So smart attire at all times it’s not like that club in James Bond, you know the one with Madona in, we have an image to uphold, we don’t want to upset Theresa, not that I’m showing favour to her, it’s just great PR for us, membership applications are up 25% and fees up 10%. I don’t know who the bloke with the big glasses is, but he seems nice and Theresa’s eyes  sparkle when she’s with him, so he must be some junior minister or something.

Now I haven’t mentioned it so far, but what are you wearing a dress? It’s a very nice dress, silver and split very high up the legs, good job you are wearing under-ware underneath that’s all I can say. You got it 2^nd hand from a Brazilian friend she only wore it once last night at a runway show at the Olympics. So you know a few supermodels? The reason being you break in their shoes for them, can you imagine 6inch stilettos without being broken in first. It’s a hard job but somebody has to do it.

No doubt Eddie Izzard is a friend. Not anymore. He got you the shoe breaking in job, when his comedy career took off, and he was too busy to continue. So Eddie Izzard used to break in shoes for models, and that’s the real reason he became a transvestite, not because he likes wearing lipstick and high heels. Exactly. Might I ask what was the reason for the falling out. 

You introduced him to Marathons, I see Mr Izzard ran 26 marathons in 26 days.  He’s become addicted to them, and his addiction counsellor has advised he ties his shoelaces together so he can’t go running off into the distance any more. The real reason though was that you meant Marathons the chocolate bar, or Snickers as it’s called nowadays. You wanted him to eat more chocolate, but he misunderstood you and went off running Marathons.

Well you seem to have answered all my questions, do you have any of your own. What price is a pint of Stella Artois? £3.50 in the bar. You get a can for a quid back home in Old Forge and Singing Anvil. Can you wear your dress all the time? Well it is a very nice dress, but if you dress as a woman you still have to use the men’s toilets. We are strict about that, just as those Americans are. Only joking, so long as you don’t pee on the carpet we are very relaxed, very relaxed indeed.

Smoking of course if forbidden, except in the library, nobody uses the library nowadays, so it’s a smoking room. You can use the ink wells as ashtrays. Any more questions?  The food is Michelin 2 star. No that does not mean the beef is as tough as tyres. It’s wonderful in fact. MacDonald or Burger King level? I’d say Burger King level but even better. The fries? Let’s say they are hand made with love. You can meet Jules the chef if you like. You cannot speak French. That’s ok Jules is a Linguist, multi- lingual. You are blushing why?

Well I hope you have been satisfied. Now as regards the fees. What fees? You think this is free? You read about being an honorary member, so could you have one of those please. Do you have connections? You know Henry the street cleaner from Old Forge and Singing Anvil, and Big Sid the Butcher. I don’t think that is quiet enough. I think you’ve had a wasted journey apart from the tea and hob bobs.

I better show you the way out.

What about Smiling Paul and Percy the Poet Undertaker?

You know Smiling Paul and Percy the Poet Undertaker?

Of course.

That’ll do nicely. Your membership will be in the post, and can I say that dress really does show off your legs nicely, apart from the surgery scars if I might be a little forward.

With that I lifted my dress from the gutter and hailed a taxi. Smiling Paul is the bookie and Percy really is a poet Undertaker in Old Forge and Singing Anvil which is where we live. What I didn’t know is that Smiling Paul and Percy the Poet Undertaker are also the names of two chief whips in the government. The fear of God had given me free membership, either that or they really liked my dress.

I'm glad to be fertilizer

I’m glad to be fertilizer ©

By Michael Casey

At a funeral the mourners are all gathered there, the family, the friends plus a few of the local  alcoholics who came in search of free food. Also squeezed in at the back a few men in suits with what appeared to be bodyguards, in shades with ponytails. What was also noticeable were the flowers, 100s of flowers. There were also what appeared to be models, 10 or more of them. What were such people doing at a funeral for a humble man, a nothing if you like.

The priest rose to read the oration, which is a new thing at Catholic funerals. John Doe was simple man, some may say he was a nothing, he had his faults as we all do, but he had many friends as witnessed by you all being here. When John lost his job he had no hope, no future, just a young family to feed. He came to me and asked did I know anybody who could help him, he had despair in his eyes. I told him all I could do was pray, so I gave him a Padre Pio prayer card and he put it in his pocket.

The next day, the very next day Mr Slim at the back of the church there, his car had a puncture and on impulse he came inside Saint Jude’s. So I welcomed him, and Mr Slim said he was Jewish, so I told him my only joke I knew. Aren’t Catholics Jews who have gone wrong? Mr Slim laughed and I asked did he know of anywhere that could do with a good honest man as a worker, just like Saint Joseph. So that’s how John, John Doe got  his chance, because of the puncture in the tyre of the Rolls Royce.

John spent 30 years working for Mr Slim, he was a cleaner, a spare set of eyes in the foyer of his casino, but he was much more than that He was the welcome mat. He may have been overlooked by some, but if you don’t wipe your shoes you soon have a house full of muck. John also knew how to make people welcome, to make them smile while they were waiting for friends to catch up. How do you describe a smile? It’s something that that makes you warm. Mr Slim knows that and that is why at his hotels and other businesses he tells the staff a smile is the most important part of the business.

John Doe and Mr Slim became friends, you have to treat the humblest of your workers as well as you treat your own mum and dad. Mr Slim had an idea, every new worker had to shadow John, so they spent 2 days cleaning toilets and floors. Then Mr Slim would have a quiet word with John, if you like it was part of the interview process. John a nothing a nobody was in fact a gatekeeper, rather like Saint Peter who John will be meeting presently after his funeral is over.

Mr Slim may be a guest in our church today but he knows the true meaning of the word catholic, it means universal as you all know. So John was perfect for his casino a universal welcome to the entire universe of people of people. But it did not stop there, John’s talents were spotted by Mr Slim, so John was placed in his new hotels, just as a humble cleaner, with eyes like a hawk. 

Whoever met John were always happy to meet him and his collection of photographs of his 7 children, it was a warm welcome, a home from home. Real friendships emerged, as witnessed by the collection of models crying over the  his coffin. Was John a beau, no he was not, despite his 7 children? He had a heart of gold and this is what attracted the models to him. That and the fact that he access to a chocolate machine 24/7 this was John Doe’s real power, the power of chocolate.

Now on occasion a disgruntled employee would belittle John and state that he was just a glorified cleaner, a nothing, a nobody, a piece of manure.  Let us just say that employee was offered a choice, 6 months cleaning rooms, or the door. He chose cleaning rooms, and afterwards there were no recriminations, he’s here at the back of the church, I won’t name him, but he’s wearing the 2^nd best suit in the church, after Mr Slim’s. In fact he climbed the ladder after doing his penance and is very high up Mr Slim’s organisation, I nearly said bum, but he’s no brown nose. It’s good to laugh at a funeral. My point is though that because of John he is now ½ the man that John was.

John loved talking to everybody, it was fun and a break from all the cleaning, he would introduce people to each other, and three of the models met their husbands because of him. He introduced them to nice men, not just rich boys, but nice boys. And it’s their Rolls Royces that are parked behind Mr Slims. I think I’ll close the church and become a used car salesman, a used Rolls Royce salesman. Faith, I think I’m funny today, but you have got to laugh at a funeral or you’d cry.

Now having 7 children is hard with only one wage, but I can reveal Mr Slim just gave John his personal Costco card, and the use of a minibus for his family. As Mr Slim knows Loyalty should always be rewarded, and what is a bit of food after all. John of course repaid his kindness, and as we all know kindness has his own reward. So three of John’s children  now work for Mr Slim. They did of course spend their gap year as cleaners for him, then they went to Cambridge, Oxford and LSE. Now they are senior management for Mr Slim.  Family is the most important thing after all.

Well you must all be getting hungry, so I’ll finish now, John’s last words to me were that he was glad to be fertilizer though he didn’t use the word fertilizer, he said without muck nothing grows, and where there is muck there is money.

So Pax Vobiscum John Doe, and I’m glad I put those nails in the road, or Mr Slim’s car would never have a puncture, sometimes you just have to help God along.   

Daddy can we go to the Seaside

Daddy can we go to the Seaside? ©

By Michael Casey

Dad can we go to the beach? Please dad we just have to go to the seaside, we’ve never had a ride on a donkey nor had candy floss stuck to our hair, nor had hotdogs with sand in them. Dad we just HAVE to go to the seaside, PLEASE DAD.

You got a cat haven’t you? What more do you want? I nearly died for that cat.

No you didn’t you were just being sarcastic, and then you had the quadruple heart bypass by coincidence, then you felt guilty about saying we could have a cat if you had a heart attack.

More like you put a gun against my head and I had to give in, and it was a coincidence that your friend had kittens. I asked for a Tom so we wouldn’t have more kittens, and what did we get? We got Totoro who turned out to be a she cat, with six nipples. So now I live with 4 girls. I’ll have to start wearing a dress next.

But can we go to the beach?

You would not like it. Here look out the front window, can you see Mrs Candy Floss Head, the lady whose hair is in such a state, she walks past our house every morning, see it really does look like a candy floss stuck to her head, why would you want to go to the seaside just for that.

But what about hot dogs, stay there I bought some from Aldi I’ll have them ready in 5 mins, just scatter cushions on the floor we can pretend we are at the seaside.

See are my hot dogs great? You want ketchup, why do you always spoil your food with ketchup, and you waste it, leaving it all on the plate. Did I tell you granddad had 6 hamburgers one after another when we were at Rhyl seaside in the 1960s.

Yea but at least YOU were at the seaside.

You  were at the seaside, you went to the new beach they built in Shanghai when you were visiting grannie a few years ago.

That doesn’t count it wasn’t a real English seaside. Besides they have sharks in Shanghai, they don’t have sharks, real sharks  at English beaches. You are just breaking our Human Rights by not taking us to a beach.

Listen I promise to take you to a beach, before I die.

You’d die just top spite us.

But as I said before the quadruple heart bypass, if I die you can have a dog. You’d be so happy to have a dog, you could call it Michael after me.

We’d call it Fart, that would remind us of you, Fart the dog has a good ring to it.

Now do you want drinks? Hot chocolate in the morning, why wait till bedtime.

You want to make sand castles. Well that would ruin the carpet, but next door are building an extension so we could sneak into his garden and play in the sand. Really, yes really. But put a hat on and sunglasses so his cctv can’t recognise you.

He’s probably moved to South America and he’s buried his wife under the patio, we only saw him  in the taxi when he went away. So you don’t want to play in his sand?

Of course we do its more exciting, imagine finding a body half buried in the sand. Does that mean you both want to work for an undertakers, or more likely you want to be CSI, anything gory, you are a horror story writer after all and big sister wants to be a doctor, and loves doing makeup, so she could be a mortician. That’ll look good on your passport.

I’ll tidy up while you go digging, you could become archaeologists I suppose, the next Howard Carter.

Did you have fun, no, because you found no body, just a dead rat. I hope you didn’t bring the rat into the house. You nearly did but it might make Totoro sick, so what did you do with the rat? You put it in  number 59’s treehouse, you really hate that boy so it might give him a scare. You are really evil sometimes I don’t know where you get it from. Don’t look at me like that. I only burnt my brother with a red hot poker once. That’s why he always peed in pop bottles thereafter cos he knew I always drunk the dregs before returning the bottles for the penny deposit so I could buy chews.

You want to go on the rides at the seaside fair. I thought of that already so put cushions on the floor, go upstairs for all the pillows too. Now what? Close your eyes. Then I spin them round and around until they are totally dizzy and I push them to the floor. On the hifi I play Monkees very very loudly, to imitate the atmosphere. I do this for half an hour until the girls feel sick.

I grab them just in time and hold them over the garden wall, they puke all over out other neighbour’s front wall. We don’t like her as she is stuck up and never speaks to us. Though if she finds out whose puke it is she might have a lot to say to us.

Have you enjoyed your day at the seaside I ask? You want a souvenir? I point to the camera in the corner of the room, I have filmed everything. We all have a strong coffee with some nice biscuits which I stole from mum’s stash of biscuits. If she asks we’ll say Totoro ate them, she is  a naughty cat who can and will open cupboards.

WE laugh at everything. See their 1^st and best ever visit to the seaside, what the neighbours will say I don’t know. We won’t be here as we are moving house, I’ve bought a new house right by the seaside at Cromane Lower Kerry Ireland. Nite nite everybody, it’s all in the writer’s imagination.   

At the Beach

At the Beach ©

By Michael Casey

Well I’m feeling very Summery right now, I stumbled over Spotify and the Eagle’s Long Road to Eden album, I’m thinking of the beach a spit away from where my mum was born, literally. I’ll add the photo of the stone building she was born in at the end of today’s piece. She lived there till she was 12 with her family of 9, we never knew it was a house as it was used as a cow shed when we visited, Uncle Danny told us one day.  He ended up in Boston Mass and his son is a cop there. But what about the beach, you can google it and you will see for yourselves it is one of the most beautiful places on God’s earth. So google Cromane County Kerry Republic of Ireland, it’s opposite Inch where Ryan’s Daughter was filmed, and down the road from Killorglin and Puck Fair, which takes place on 10^th 11^th and 12^th August every year. You can even walk down the road and spot my cousin David’s house, he owns the land now. He isn’t called Casey, so I’m respecting his privacy.

I’m getting home sick now, yes I was born in Birmingham a couple of miles from where I am sitting now, but my heart is in Cromane Lower, blame my mum for that. If only I could find a driver I’d go back, it’s over 20 years since I’ve been back. Last time my mum was sick 2 days before the holiday so she could not come. Then the next year me and my sister went back, parents included, it was the final grand tour, dad was determined to meet and greet all his brother’s 10  children. Some places were impossible to find, you start at the back of beyond and then go to the back of the back of beyond, like navigating a maze within a maze of  back roads.

We covered a lot of ground, the year before me and my sister did over 1000 miles in two weeks, with only a picture postcard with a map of Kerry on as a guide. You visit 2 or 3 relatives a day and eat at every house, with dad pressing money into every palm. He knew it was the last visit, he had a few Guinness in small bars, such as the bar in Ballyheigh with its great long beach, not forgetting finding bars in Scarthaglen.

The story about Scarth is that a young Policeman noticed blue smoke as illegal Poteen was been distilled in that house next door to the Police station.  He told the police sergeant, who promptly had him transferred to the back of beyond, he didn’t want to be deprived of his own supply. Who knows perhaps the young policeman emigrated and became chief of police in Boston or Chigago. This would be in the 1920s or 1930s.

The footnote to the story is that Scathaglen was one of the widest streets in the whole of Kerry, so the police sergeant used to walk up and down the middle of the road, and then retire to the police station, he’d just made sure that all the pubs had closed at closing time. He’d done his duty, and were all 20 pubs closed? Well let’s say when he retired he got a bottle of whisky from each and every bar in Scarth. Now if the details are wrong you’ll have to take it up with my dad.

The next year my mother died, and my father almost died, he was in fact given a week to live.  It’s all in Padre Pio and Me by Michael Casey which you should be able to find on the Internet. The tales my father told me over and over again are part of my soul, which is much much more than DNA. When I was writing my comic novel The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker the spirit of the policeman became the police sergeant in my book, the priest who made a boy organise a fete for the children’s home as a penance for getting his girl pregnant before marriage was maybe the Jesuit Fr Michael who married my parents. So you can see how the Love given to me became characters in my book.

 Percy the Undertaker was no doubt inspired by our local undertaker’s dignity and care, I have also been an altar server so I’ve been to many funerals. As for my mother she was like many pious mothers, so she sometimes was a sole mourner at a funeral for some unloved person, who was asked to come to the grave by the priest, to pray for their soul. Then mum would sit in the jump seat of the hearse and the undertaker would give her a lift home afterwards.

One of the main characters is Big Sid the Butcher, a larger than life Falstaff kind of person, full of joy, but much more.  When I finished writing the book it occurred to me that really Sid was my dad, somebody so full of love for his children. I did not want to put my dad in the book but he was there after all, what’s in the blood is in the blood. In Tears for a Butcher which is the follow up novel Big Sid has a huge part in the finale, all I need is a legal secretary then I’ll write it.

Back on the beach at Cromane Lower you can walk to the end past the Tank and to the spit as they call it, it is a peninsula after all. I always used to, its 30 mins or more from mom’s place to the end, while the dinner was on you could get some exercise. If you look over the water you can see Inch and the Dingle peninsula, there used to be a dolphin called Fungy too. Then there is the bar that’s also a book store, I bought Daniel Yergin’s The Prize there, all about the oil industry. Great read.

I’m going to finish now, it’ll be interesting to know how many of you go to Ireland for a holiday now, it really is the most beautiful place on God’s earth. You can send me a postcard, if you are clever you may even find mum’s old place, it is on Google Earth, I can find it in a couple of mins just by walking down the beach. You may even read my books on Kindle while sat on the beach at Cromane. If you pop into the church you could light a candle for  the Casey Clan. Good Luck.