One Story a Day Repeated 6 times in 24 hours on Bauer Media perfect Mental Laxative, clear your mind with laughter, you can even learn English this way

Well here's more to tempt you to buy my books on Amazon at 2.99USD  EACH A BARGAIN   EVERYTHING IS MY COPYRIGHT SO RADIO AND PRESS DO GET IN TOUCH
maybe Bauer Media will finally get in touch.

 https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC

 1

MichaelCasey’sBlogs2011©

50 Writing Samples (c)

by

Michael Casey

THIS IS A SAMPLE OF MY WRITING FOR MORE JUST FOLLOW THE LINK TO BUY

SOME ebooks, ebooks can be downloaded to PC as well as Kindle.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-

Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_54?qid=1373557050&sr=1-54

1. 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

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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

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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 it’s called nowadays. Window shopping on the

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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.

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2. What's on the Internet?

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

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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

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content, me I'll just enjoy the royalties.

Now everybody enjoy Internet Story again. Michael in

Freezing Birmingham

Michael G Casey Email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com

Internet Story ©

By

Michael Casey

So all I had to do was send an email , and then I’d be a

writer , my book in every shop , my face smirking from

cardboard cut outs of me holding my book aloft . My book

had a great title , so it was bound to sell . A Nation Of

Shopkeepers was a great title , if only people could

remember their History , were people interested in

History , and for that matter my book . It wasn’t a

history book , would people think it WAS a history book ,

and then not buy it . It was a comedy drama , about a

street of shops , interconnecting short stories , for all

the family , but would people notice the levels , the

strands of humour , or would they say it’s a Ma & Pa book

, and miss the joke , just as one publisher called did ?

I decided to keep the title , though I had a reserve

title , The Butcher , The Baker and The Undertaker . Then

I realised the US market would rename it The Butcher ,

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The Baker And The Funeral Arranger . You don’t think

about such things when you are writing the book , you’re

just happy , on a roll , in love with your own intellect

, or just surprised you actually DO have any intellect ,

then you discover that you are dyslexic , you really are

dyslexic , thankfully not a really bad case , just

dyslexic . As you proof read you see you have put BUT

instead PUT , LEAD instead of READ , things like this and

other strange things . Sure there are spellcheckers but

or is it put , you have to check it anyway . As you read

you are surprised at your own ability . You didn’t waste

4years in journalism school , but your writing is GOOD ,

Did I write that ? Then your chest filled with pride you

get somebody else to read it , and guess what ? They

think its crap . So now you have to decide , should I

give up or should I carry on ?

I gave up for as while , while is a unit of years in my

case , my life took another path , so the writing was

forgotten , it lay dormant for years , then like a

phoenix it arose , or more truthfully , like a tortoise

awaking from hibernation , sleep still in my eyes I

slowly poked my head out , then back in , went back to

sleep again , then finally with the pangs of hunger in my

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stomach I just had to do something . In my case it was

eat , as in really eat , then I turned to my old Atari

and realised it was not PC compatible , so I bought a new

, or rather an old new Atari which was PC compatible .

Then I spent a day copying my files so that I could read

them on a PC . Then I wrote a few more pieces before I

realised I’d get nowhere in England . The chances of

being published were 1 in 2000 . So like a bear , I went

back in my cave and slumbered .

Meeting my wife Jing Jie was a turning point in my life ,

and not just because it was like Thunder as Jing Jie

calls it , it was a turning point because I had a

professional opinion on my writing , from a journalist at

the very top of the tree . Her uncle is an editor in

chief , so his comments were and are like gold , worth

more than my first coffee and Cadbury’s chocolate , the

pleasure rush I treat myself to every day , his comments

really were that important to me , and I really DO like

my Cadbury’s , so being better than Cadbury’s is the

highest praise I can give . So I knew the quality of my

writing , even if others said and say its crap .

Getting a modern PC and internet connection was another

turning point . Email in our house is like water and

10

eclectic in any other homes . Jing Jie can “talk” to her

mum in Shanghai every day . To friends all over the world

as well . Birmingham IS the centre of the universe .So

with hope and fear I had to transfer my files from my old

Atari to the new PC . The floppy discs were old and

battered , several were unreadable , finally my work , my

babies were safely on the new PC . Just to be on the safe

side I set up a web site , so now my work was on

somebody’s server in the US , thousands of miles away ,

safe from fire or theft . I could also put our new baby’s

photos on the web site so that my Chinese family in

Shanghai and Miami and friends all over the world could

see Annie and Jing Jie and me , they could even read my

work too .

So now all I had to do was market my work in the US ,

simple really , soon I’d be doing something useful with

my life , making people laugh . I’d be a writing whore ,

I’d get paid to make others laugh , the best job in the

world . So how would I set about it ? I got a list of

radio stations from the internet and started sending

emails galore . I’m talking in the hundreds now , to

radio stations the length and breath of the US .They

could publicise my site then eventually I’d get published

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, or my play would get produced . It was simple wasn’t it

. So merrily I went about my business , sending emails

galore . Years before I used to send off big heavy

envelopes with my work in , with more persistence than

hope in my heart .”Thank you for your pieces of paper “was

the best put down . I once even met a writer and he

agreed to read my play Shoplife , then he wrote back

calling me a plagiarist , because it was so good . So I

used his note as toilet paper , Shoplife was so good

because I had 20years of experience given to me by my

sister , I just improved on it , but yet I was called a

Copyist , so naturally I was angry and used his note to

wipe my bum .

I wondered why my strike rate was so low with my emails

to radio stations , then somebody casually mentioned ,

“You do know they will just delete anything with an

attachment” . In these days of viruses or worms which

I’ve discovered is the new trendy word , nobody can risk

their PC , so I merrily send and they merrily delete .

I’d been wasting my time , but not my money because I’d

got a 24/7 package on my internet from AOL .However one

radio station did read Shoplife . The DJ or is it Host ,

he called it hilarious and he could not stop reading it .

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It turned out he was an actor as well , though isn’t

everybody an actor in the US ?So I thanked him , and

quoted him in my future advertising .Humour is a funny

thing . The things that make English people laugh are not

the same as the things that make Americans’ laugh . We

are constantly told by people on tv that English TV is

the best in the world , the US material we see is the top

10% , the rest is rubbish . But I know I’d never get my

foot in the door in England so I had to persist with my

American campaign , so now I pasted in my material , no

attachments . Just get them hooked , then paste in a

sample then direct them to www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com

Then bingo part2 of my life could begin ,I’d be the man

that made America laugh , a naïve sentiment , but it was

honest .Only AOL turns things into zip files and some

people can’t unzip your files , it’s like wanting sex but

your zipper is broke and you can’t get your trousers off

. Such a strong urge , but no fulfilment .

I switched to MSMAIL and pasted in my stuff , things

started to happen , my files weren’t being deleted or too

zipped up to be read . At least I wasn’t frustrated any

more . Now I had an agent interested , and a new magazine

, even a theatre replied .All praise to Bill Gates , and

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to a Christian called Pat Verato who pointed me in the

direction of a few good sites .However some of the sites

that I trawled through were just , so very American . Hey

, you too can be a writer , just send me 10 dollars and

I’ll send you my book “How to make 10 dollars” , and he

does . Then there’s magazines you can subscribe to , yes

you’ve guessed it , just send another 10 dollars “Writing

for Beginners” . There’s all these agents too who are so

successful , persuading tap dancing bus drivers to write

about Tap Dancing For Bus Drivers , the complete self

help book , costs 10 dollars . The agent gets 20percent ,

and the bus driver pays 5000dollars to print 500 copies ,

then he can boast he’s a writer , not just a bus driver ,

and guess what if you pay 10 dollars you can learn to tap

dance too .

As for me , what do I think of all this ? I’d say just

keep on writing , stop your selling , or attempts at

selling , just write a bit . Add to your catalogue of 3

poems and 2 short stories , then search for an agent .

Believe you’ll never be published and then you won’t be

disappointed. There is one final thing you can do though

, just tell everybody to go to my site

www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com

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And help find a publisher for my book , and then you’ve

guessed it , just send me 10 dollars !

End

3. I know your face

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.

15

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.

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4. 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

17

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

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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

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5. We Are Words

We Are 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

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6. 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

21

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

22

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

23

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.

24

7. 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

25

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

26

even remember when and where we bought that stool, it

was 1973. Simple objects are full of memories and

meaning. In Citizen Kane it was Rosebud the sledge that

meant so much when Kane 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

27

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.

28

8. If You Go Down To The Woods Today ©

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 in Chinese 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

29

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 Plastic bag 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 Plastic bag carrier next to the front door, no

30

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 Plastic bag bag, he can live on

top of my bedroom Dab radio. I cannot decide what to call

the dog, my new best friend, we bought it in a shoe shop,

HushPuppy maybe, or Subway the dog. We always said if we

have a real dog we’d call him subway.

Christmas is coming so the smaller cuddly toys have been

saved and will decorate our house once 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.

31

9. 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

32

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

33

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.

34

10. 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

35

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

36

and golf course. So as its was the Eve of Halloween 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

friend’s 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

37

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’m dead,” followed by my best

38

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

39

11. My Arm Chair

by Michael Casey

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

40

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

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

41

12. The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare

The Simpsons are modern Shakespeare ©

By Michael Casey

I just read a piece in this morning’s DT it was about the

Vatican’s newspaper and the Simpsons.

The DT comment button did not work so I’ve written this

piece instead.

Shakespeare touches all of us, once we learn or are

taught how to understand it. It may mean a West Side

story experience. It may mean Shakespeare in Love or a

modern version with Leonardo di Caprio.

But it is all Shakespeare, yes I know the literati will

moan as the always do, but underneath it is Shakespeare.

It’s the universality of it,

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com for my stuff, more like an

Ealing Comedy. But back to today the Vatican/Jesuit take

on the Simpsons. My girls tease and say I’m like the dad

in the Simpsons, I tell them I’m much much slimmer.

Comedy pokes fun and draws us closer together as we laugh

42

at what’s happening, and a big part is laughing at

others’ suffering, PC people will spin in their graves,

and the soon the better.

There was a really good series on tv about Shakespeare

and how he could have been a secret Catholic amongst

other things, not to mention his eclectic background, he

could touch bases with so many things because of his life

experience. So the Simpsons touch bases with us because

it highlights the worst in us all, and then we laugh at

ourselves, there is no “I couldn’t possibly be like

that” because we ARE like that. I suppose in the New

Testament the common touch in the language/life draws us

towards the Divine, The Simpsons could it be called the

common man’s Bible? I don’t know, you’ll have to read

more of the Bible and watch more of the Simpsons. And ask

the Jesuits who write the Vatican newspaper, me I’m going

to find my deck of cards you may remember the song.

43

13. Which Way Do You Look?

By

Michael Casey

Which way do you look? I’m thinking of this because it’s

an anniversary today, so it got me thinking. I also

heard today about the funeral arrangements for our old

priest, he was the priest who came to the house to

confirm that our mum was indeed dead, when my dad saw him

enter the house with my brother and sister my dad started

to cry. So now we cry for that priest.

Events make you look this way and make you look that way.

Events touch us and pain us, events make us laugh and

make us sigh. Today in Chile the whole nation screams in

celebration, to be honest the whole world smiles too, we

are the world.

When you look in a mirror which way do you look? If you

are a girl or a lady you look at your body and wonder is

it as you want it to be. Is your hair good this way or

that way, do those clothes really suit you or should you

44

take them back to the shop to exchange them, you’ve tried

20 things to match them but they just don’t work with

your wardrobe. Yes you’ll take them back, I mean your

mirror is so much better than the one in the shop, and

why don’t husbands understand about clothes.

Men look in mirrors for 2 seconds as they drag the comb

through their hair, they never seem to notice the stubble

on their chins, or the paint on their jumpers, they shame

their wives.

Do you look forward or do you look backward? It depends

on how your life is doing. If you’re on the dole with no

hope you may look backward to when you had a job and the

money that went with it. You’re afraid to look ahead it’s

looking into the gloom, it’s like the Titanic, all fog

and mist. Some take refuge in drink or worse, glass ½

full or glass ½ empty, or maybe the glass is just not big

enough. Your prospective influences how you cope with

things.

You can look forward by looking at the property pages on

www.rightmove.co.uk if only you get more money then

you’ll move house, even if it would really be a lottery

win amount of money. You can look forward more

realistically by looking at Argos and Currys and comet

45

and do some window shopping for the things you really

need to replace once the money comes in again. A new

cooker perhaps, a new living room carpet, perhaps a

fridge, or just upgrade the central heating boiler. All

these are looking forward.

I look back a fair bit, because I have lots of memories

and spent a lot of time with my dad in his good years and

his fading years in the old people’s home, you can find

out more by reading Padre Pio and Me on

www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com I have almost total recall

for my family events. I’m the one who remembers all the

family growing up things. When my brother went to

University he bought our little sister a tricycle, it was

£5, that was good use of student grant, over 40 years

ago. Now my own daughter has ambitions to go to that

University. My younger daughter had a tricycle too, I got

it as a gift from a toy show that passed through a hotel

where I was working a few years ago.

I think having memories is good, it certainly means I

have material to write about, growing up with lodgers for

example. I look back with love and think just much love

we got from our parents. “You are as good as anybody” is

what I can remember my mum saying, proud and defiant she

46

was, for her love was a nuclear weapon. Mothers know how

to use nuclear weapons, their love really is that

powerful. I have an idea for Tears For A Butcher my 3rd

book, if ever I get to write it.

14. A Winter's Day

As I look from my window I see the blue blue sky. Birds

dive and soar better than any circus acrobat, they are

painting a picture with their wings. Tiny tiny whisps of

white cloud remain, like left over candy floss on a

childs face, like white whiskers on a very old woman’s

face.

Curtains are pulled open and windows are inched open too,

daylight and fresh air to bedrooms shuttered down against

a cold winters night. People stand and yarn and scratch

too as they struggle to wake up fully. Then one or two

realise they don’t wear any pyjamas so they hurry away

from their windows, their wives, their husbands, their

lovers laughing at their stupidity. At least old Mrs

Jones may have had a thrill.

The sounds of morning, of daylight rise. Slowly the sound

of the milk float, the sounds of milk bottles clinking

together as the milkman does his rounds, this way and

that. The sound of of Mrs Murphy walking her dog, the dog

47

panting in the cold winters air. He doesn’t have a

sheepskin coat to keep him warm. He has his own fur coat

but this winter is a cold one, so Goldie the dog could do

with an extra coat too.

People dance down their door steps to their car, nagging

children to hurry up as its cold. Children write their

name in the frost on their neighbours’ cars before being

told off. John the neighbourhood jogger rushes past, the

kids stick their tongue out at him, he does the same,

they all laugh, only for John to miss his stride slip on

an icy patch and fall to the ground hurting his elbow as

he does so. Still laughing the kids get in the car and are

taken off to see grandpa, John is rubbing his elbow and

his bum as he gets ups gingerly.

The lads, we are so hard, appear from their homes to

noisily attack the day, Sunday is for shouting, but not

too loud, as they have headaches and hangovers, did they

really chat up that ugly fat girl, but they gave her his

brother’s mobile number and not his own. They stride off

to the news agent for The News Of The World, just for the

sports pages, their mums can read the scandal section and

the horoscopes.

One or two black people wearing their Sunday best pass by

48

on their way to church, a throwback to decades before

when people still went to church and when people still

wore their Sunday best. People used to dress up to go to

the theatre too, but now, but now.

I reach for the kettle and have my first coffee of the

day, coffee with milk and no sugar, the way English

people have coffee, not the American way, just the soft

English way. My kids want toast and peanut butter, or

cheese on toast, so my 3 slices of toast become one slice

of toast as I feed my girls. I nag them to put slippers

and socks on, yes we have nice carpet but in the winter’s

weather they are always getting colds, so I nag them, I

nag them. My wife nags them in Chinese too, or Shanghai

dialect. The phone rings, its Germany calling, or rather

my wife’s best friend who’s calling from Germany, the

cackle or hens, of chickens clucking is the noise these 2

Shanghai girls make, as they talk in Shanghai, when are

we coming back to Germany is the message. Cluck cluck

cluck.

The sky has changed the blue has changed to grey, will

the snow return, it’s been a snowy winter over here in

Birmingham, some parts of the country have had the worse

weather in 20years. The children have quietened down, my

49

wife has relented and put a nature program on the tv for

them. As for me I was going to try and write a poem but

instead you see what’s before you. I’m half listening to

Mike and The Mechanics a cd I’ve loaded to the computer,

“give me the simple life” he sings, I suppose my life is

a simple life too. But if we can see the poetry in life

then we enjoy the simple things which make up all are

lives. All our lives are poetry if only we take the time

to watch and listen, while we’re making toast for the

kids.

50

15. My Atheist Friend

I spent the afternoon with my friendly atheist he was

condemning God, he thought God existed but only as a bad

and evil thing. He assumed a lot about my faith, and was

wrong about it and me. Now should I bother to try and

convert him? Should I point him in the direction of his

local church where he could find himself a nice wife. Do

people go to church to finds wives, now that's another

question. Or should I let him carry on until he stumbled

over his own direction. I did explain how I stood by my

fridge and asked God to intervene in my life, my 3 wishes

so to speak, its in my essay Padre Pio and Me on my

site. And then as if by magic I met my Shanghai wife.

However atheists put themselves in a box, a cold steel

box and throw away the key, and they are not Houdini's

who can escape, they are like collapsed dead stars deep

in the cold of space.

Does family make us believe in God? Wishing for a family

was one of my 3 wishes. I got all my luck in one go is

51

what my Kerry cousins say. You ask for anything will do

and you get the best, better than all the rest as the

song goes.

THe autumn leaves fall and Life will soon die, winter

will come and cold will desend, but in the spring there

will be growth as Chance the gardener. How to plant a

seed where there is forever autumn as another song goes.

How do you plant a seed in an atheist's heart does he

have to suffer a dark night of the soul before like a

caterpillar he emerges as a beautiful butterfly? Its a

difficult question especially when I got my faith at the

nipple. Others of many faiths learnt their faith when

they were toddlers, the trendy I'll wait till they grow

up so they can decide for themselves always strikes me as

child neglect of the worst sort.

Christmas is a happy time full of innocence and hope,

perhaps I should drag my friend to Midnight Mass and let

him hear carols, silent night holy night. When we sing

and remember our family members who have gone ahead.

Should I make him look up at the stars overhead twinkling

to eternity, for there is always hope. Hope springs

Eternal.

52

16. Words are for what? ©

By Michael Casey

Words are for what? Conversation, a chat, gossip, juicy

gossip, a quiet word, a stern word, a protest, a scream,

a shout, a murmur, whispers, a buzz or just plain old

prattle.

Today the news is full of the Labour Party, much is being

said and not said, how will the future be, will they the

brothers bury the hatchet, do they wish to bury the

hatchet in one another’s head. Are they both lying about

everything? Or are they both champions of truth. One

thing is certain the Tories just love this result.

Political reporters just love it too, those politic al

reporters are prettier nowadays too, I remember when I

was a child it was just Robin Day in his dickybow

talking to other men about politics. I once saw Robin Day

in the street, he was a really fast walker. Now Robin Day

was great with words, he could and would call somebody a

%%%$$%^&& to their face but he used such elegant words,

53

it would be an honour to be dumped on by him. Robin Day’s

most famous quote was “Some here today gone tomorrow

politician.” He said that to Sir John Knott when the

Falklands War kicked off, John Knott walked off set. At

the time nobody knew where the Falklands were, were they

in extreme northern Scotland?

Words though do have so much strength. Hitler knew this,

and look what happened. Other evil leaders did the same

thing, pick your own despot.

Sometimes all it takes is a word and things can be

healed. Sorry is the hardest word to say as the song

goes. Kids play in the playground and harsh words are

said, kids are cruel is what any teacher will tell you.

“Take it back” is another catchphrase, then you have to

say the magic formula of words and all is healed. Or is

it? With kids in the playground, or between brother and

sister yes, hopefully. But with international relations?

Pick your own dispute.

Love songs have so much power, or certain words can

tickle us and make us smile, or make us angry. When I was

in Shanghai in 2000 meeting the family at one dinner a

13year old boy was proud to sing a song he knew in

English, Michael Row the boat ashore. He grew whiskers on

54

his chinagin the wind came out and blew them in again.

The Chinese boy was so proud. It was the same song that

my brothers and sisters used to sing to me to make me

cry. I think I laughed in 2000. In 2007 at another

dinner I met him again, he asked did I remember him, he

was now as big as myself. Of course I remembered him, how

could I forget that song and the association. I told the

Chinese lad to keep up with the English and do Law at

Uni. I was working at a law firm at the time.

A way a woman dresses has a lot of power over a man, it

leads to the power of love. The way a man dresses has

power over a woman, a fireman for example. The way a man

undresses has power over a woman too, the Chippendales

or The Full Monty…..

But back to words, if they are not matched by action then

they are like steam coming off a coffee on a train, just

evaporating into nothingness. A few simple words with

action attached is better than a hurricane for blowing

inaction away. My last uncle died recently and after the

funeral his son in law said “He didn’t say much but when

he did it was worth listening to.” He was a quiet man,

but he was loved so much, and his words were worth their

weight in gold.

55

17. Cobwebs of Love

Kids need good parents, friends we choose for ourselves,

your families you get anyway. I'm lucky I had great

parents. Faith does help, but kids get bigger and decide

for themselves if their parents were talking rubbish or

were worth listening too. Kids travel and find their own

way home to their faith and their families. Elastic is

very important in relationships and faith. If you try to

keep things set in stone then you will be in for a fall.

Nothing is set in stone, friendships change and alter and

our own understandings change and alter. Have a bit of

elastic in your life is my best advice. You are not in an

army and getting up at 5am and doing all the marching and

so forth. Yes have discipline and rules, but be aware IF

you force somebody to do something when they have the

chance to rebel then they will. You cannot chain anybody

to you or your faith, brainwashing is a bad idea, listen

to the Genesis song Jesus we know him.......So you bind

your family and friends and faith to you by cobwebs of

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love and nothing stronger than cobwebs of love. Love

should be like that its a cobweb of love, also be happy

to have a Prodigal Son in your life, happy because you

will always welcome them back. If you're lucky you'll

never have any Prodigal sons in your life but I already

tell my kids I'll always love them and they can always

come home, leave your doors open with cobwebs of love

waiting there

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18.The Bicycle Removal Firm ©

By

Michael Casey

Today's blog is

inspired by what I saw through the window. And what did I

see? Well you may have all seen The Quiet Man with John

Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. In it a spare bike is “carried”

by somebody already riding one. It no doubt takes great

skill.

It wasn't that I saw but something much more intriguing,

I say a man on a bike carrying a mirror under his arm.

Not the newspaper, but a real mirror, a 3.5foot one

under his right arm. He also had it mirror side out, so

no doubt several car drivers would have been dazzled.

Later on as I sat here at the computer I saw him again,

this time he had an ironing board under his arm, at least

the legs weren't sticking out. He just pedalled past. I

was wondering what would happened next. I was thinking it

was nearly time to collect the girls from school when he

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came walking past carrying a heavy bundle on his

shoulder.

As we walked home I told my girls what I'd noticed, I

always try and teach them to be observant, such as seeing

the new trendy sign over the help the aged charity shop

today. And as we walked home why the policeman had got

out of the panda car near the bank, to go to the cash

point and then go to Subway for his sandwich.

I explained to my girls that the man on the bike must

be moving house, but he didn't have a car so he was DIY

moving with the aid of a bike. My mother once put on all

her clothes and then walked home to Cromane Kerry because

she had no suitcase so she wore everything. Her mum had

belted her for her stupidity, this would be in the 1930s.

I encouraged my daughter to use the bike man as a story

for her next English lesson, she said it was not her

style. Then as we closed the front door, who did we see?

The man on his bike with a mixing desk under his arm, my

daughter laughed, but her little sister had the last

laugh, she'd found the chocolate biscuits.

So what can I say, I hope that if ever we move house, if

ever I sell my 3 books then I hope we can at least have a

van to transport our things. Or perhaps I could self

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upgrade from a bicycle removal service to a bus removal

service, I do have a bus pass after all.

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

19. What is Prayer ? What is Love? ©

By

Michael Casey

What is Faith? We are told in one Bible passage that if a

man can do many things yet there is no Love then man has

achieved nothing. I remember this being read at grammar

school at the morning assembly. . Sorry if I cannot quote

it verbatim. I'd come home from work and my dad would be

sitting down in the living room his dinner on a chair so

he could watch the news, he'd have the first bite raised

to his mouth. I'm not hungry he'd say and offer me his

dinner. This is love. Another time, another shift

pattern. I'd come home at 11p. Dad would wait up to see

me before he'd go to bed, he'd be up at 5am for his work

the next morning. This is the standard I'm used to, I'll

do the same for my own children. Its normal, it’s

obvious. To me anyway. My mother used to watch Dallas on

tv after she'd fed all her children, one hand in her

apron as she watched tv. Only the hand always jumped in

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her pocket, she was saying the rosary while she watched

tv. Very Irish, very motherly. Very normal, the standard I

got used to. Countless mothers the world over do the

same. They may be Christians, they may be of a multitude

of different Faiths, yet one thing in common. Love, love

of God, love of family, love of children . And do we

thank our parents for this love? If we didn't and now our

parents our gone, then do we live with regret all our

lives . No, this would be folly. We can thank our parents

and our God by being good parents, by trying to copy the

good example shown to us . I met my wife in the

retirement home where my dad lived after his near fatal

heart attack, which happened 8 bare weeks after my mother

died in her sleep. My dad lived long enough for me to

meet/marry and have a granddaughter. As I gaze on my

daughter's face I often say "thank you". Thank You to God

for allowing me a wife and for having a daughter. An

extremely beautiful daughter, healthy and funny. I have to

show the moon to my daughter because she thinks it’s so

pretty, she loves stars too , not yet 22months old and

she knows the wonder of creation . As I look upwards and

see the cold beauty of space I know how lucky I am. I

know how lucky I am. Lucky enough to cry, which I do on

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occasions. My tears are my humble thanks and praise of

God. I have a family. July 96, mom was gone 2 months, and

dad was now given 1 week to live. So after 3years of

constant visits to the seniors home I met my wife, my

Shanghai China. So yes I cry in the dark of the night as

I look up at the stars . I am a lucky man, because I had

good parents, I know I did . I hope everybody could be as

lucky as me .....

well I hope this reads ok , I couldn't think of any

poetry , I just hope telling it plain catches the spirit

, the spirit of love . One word, one look, one sigh, one

flicker of the eyes, each of these is a prayer, a deep

prayer . A prayer of hope, pray, hope and don't worry is

a motto I try to live by that’s all the advice I can give

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20. My New Computer Part 2

A new home computer is an event. You think how quick it

will be. You prepare by backing up your files, but you

have so many of them. Then you have email accounts and

favourite sites and so forth. You think you've thought of

everything but you haven't. BUT you do have a safety net,

you've emailed your important files to yourself, in fact

you have a couple of email accounts so your stuff can be

safe. Only you forget the passwords.

I'm sure we've all done it. Luckily the nice folks at

Google can help. But then there is GMX can they fix it

too?

Then you get 60 day trial of software from Norton which

features an online backup, so your files are safe on a

server in the USA.

So I had loaded our family photos to the new PC and then

deleted them from the memory stick thing.

So that was ok, only I then lost them from the new PC. So

I have to rely on Norton, only there's a glitch, I can

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see my files on their Server but I cannot restore them

to my PC. It may just be I need to click somewhere I

cannot see. So I send an email to Norton, that’s a couple

of hours ago, but I'm sure those guys are just as nice

as Google.

Have I learnt my lesson. Yes, buy 2 memory sticks and

don't delete anything.

Footnote I first used a computer back in 1978, DEC PDP

1170s but then computers were as big as washing machines

and dealt in megabites and tape decks were as big as

wardrobes.

p.s. Windows7 is fab and the lads at Comet are very very

professional

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21. How to Teach a Nine Year Old Long Division ©

By

Michael Casey

Well my daughter only has 2 more years in primary school,

year 5 is what they call it. So my Shanghai wife is

pushing her to learn maths, 11plus beckons next year.

I remember I was called the "Ready Reckoner" by the lady

in the butcher’s shop, Marsh and Baxters. The shop had a

variety of changes over the past 45 years but now it is

once more a butchers, a halal one. I was 8 or younger at

the time me and my mum would go to the butchers and buy

the meat for the 8 of us, sawdust was on the floor in

those days. The lady in the shop would write down all the

separate items on a piece of paper using her pencil. Then

she’d try to add them up, remember it was pounds

shillings and pence in those days. 12 pence to a

shilling, and 20 shilling to the pound, 240 pence in one

pound. If you did not know your 12 times tables then

you’d be lost. Mr Gallagher my old school teacher

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threatened us for months with a times table test. He

sprung it on us and the result was 4 of the best, a pump

on my bum. The next time he tested us I was perfect. So

with a stinging bum as a reminder I was red hot as far at

times tables and sums were concerned. Hence I was the

ready reckoner

We always paid the right price for our meat, the tills

were huge monsters in those days with big symbols

appearing in a glass window, watch Ronnie Barker in Open

All Hours and you’ll see one.

Now how do you teach division to a 9 year old. Well my

wife starts in Shanghai dialect, then I interrupt in

English giving a metaphor or two, upside down stair is

how I explain. Then we jump on Utube and you get lessons

galore, 360 maths lessons is what I hear. Though its

American so is Math lessons, I was boasting as they

explained long division that I had shown our daughter the

correct way, but Utube had another set in the upside down

steps, by basically I was right. I then reassured our

daughter if she did 100 examples then she’d get it. If

you know how to multiply then you know how to divide.

More encouragement is given in Shanghai dialect. As for

our daughter she heads for her room and Galaxy on her DAB

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radio, perhaps if she counts the stars in the Galaxy then

she’ll have her head for maths.

22. Mickey Mouse Degrees

Three of my family went to University, and it was called

University then not Uni. They worked very hard to get

there. Me I went to work and later discovered the OU,

after I discovered I could write.

I also spent 3years

at a 4star deluxe business hotel. So I’m thinking should

I set myself up as a tutor and teach “Car park cleaning

and security patrolling a combined course” or “Concierge

skills with smile techniques” or “Housekeeping with

combined Laundry services” “Reception skills with added

Switchboard techniques”. I was a close runner up as

Employee Of The Year so I could charge more. Perhaps I

could teach “Acceptance of Rejection, a multi discipline

course for Writers and Playwright and Poets”

I’d just love for somebody to take me under their wing

and give me a grant, I’ve written a comic novel The

Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, I’ve written a play

that will be a hit, Shoplife is its name and its very

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topical, its about a store about to close. I’ve got

another book called Essays and Plays which is just that.

Finally Tears For A Butcher is my 3rd book which I'm

still writing. I did try and get a grant from the

Rockefeller Foundation but no joy, perhaps I’m too old or

too working class. Perhaps I should try Getty Foundation,

who knows, I do know my play Shoplife could be turned on

its head to teach Customer Service, all I need is a

Dragon, I did try that too but no luck.

Perhaps I should go on the X files and read a few poems

or speed read from my book, like the Reduced Shakespeare

Company. I did meet thousands of people while I worked at

a hotel and many were amused by my Tales. Tales from Old

Forge and Singing Anvil www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com is

where my stuff lives in cyber space. I am no Blacksmith

like my father but I always followed his maxim “Do what

you like, BUT do your best.”

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23. My Mouse is drunk ©

By

Michael Casey

Well my mouse is drunk, I did see the warning signs and I

hoped and prayed that it would get back to the straight

and narrow, but it did not. The mouse is a drunkard and

that’s all there is to it, its not that I live in a

windmill with the sails producing electricity for our

home our windmill home. It would have been just fine if

the mouse wore clogs and did a bit of break dancing.

Living in a windmill would be fun too.

I am of course talking about a computer mouse, not any

Nick Park creation. Our computer was waving goodbye as

you can see by my previous post, but now the mouse was

joining the strike in sympathy, all for one and one for

all.

Can you remember the last time you were on a double

decker bus up stairs and drunk?I can remember being on

the Metro in Paris Feb 1998 drunk and very happy, but

69

that’s another story. So picture that in your mind and

that’s just how my mouse is behaving. Scrolling and

jumping and highlighting galore, could be like a scene

from an old film, Easy Rider perhaps, and yes I remember

seeing that at the cinema, 2pound a week pocket money so

I could go to the cinema at the Grove. You think you can

master a silly little mouse but you cannot, it’s like a

jockey verses a giant, the jockey is wiry and nimble so

its very hard to catch him and lay a punch on him.

Exactly how it is between me and my mouse. I was trying

to do a few things before the new needed replacement

computer arrived, but it was a battle of wills and the

mouse, the computer mouse was winning. I need to renew

my house insurance so I thought I could do this online. I

had rung up my existing insurance company and they

immediately offered a 40% discount! But it was still

cheaper to change so I had been looking online, but with

the mouse playing up it was like being in an Irish Pub on

Saint Patrick’s day, one giant jelly mass of people, me

and the mouse were just like that. Finally I had to give

up I was getting seasick. 4 of us use this computer and

the mouse has been battered for years, so now it was time

to put it out of its misery, the only decision was

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whether to bury the mouse in an old shoe box or just cut

off its tale and give it to the with. kids to play

24. We are having a baby ©

By

Michael Casey

We are having a baby, after much though and heartache we

have decided to have a baby, it will be our 3rd. Now in

Google search that’ll be condensed so everybody will be

mislead until they click and read the full version. Yes

we are having a baby, and yes it will be our 3rd, but not

a baby baby, which would indeed be our 3rd. No we are not

trying for a boy after having two girls, we are just

having a 3rd baby, I mentioned it to my eldest daughter

on my way back with a coffee in my hand, she said it

wouldn’t be a 3rd baby, it would be a 4th baby, or even a

5th baby. You see we had a new Tv after ours gave up the

ghost after 16 years, so the new Toshiba was a baby, and

our new noisy whistling kettle was a baby too. What I’m

really saying is that our computer has reached the age

when it should be replaced. The baby I’m on about is a

new Emachine computer, a baby computer because it should

71

be so much smaller than the original one from over 7

years ago. Best of all it was on offer, 200 off. If it

wasn’t on offer it would have stayed in the shop, but we

really need our computer so thankfully a cheap one has

popped up to save the day.

As for our current Emachine that’ll find a new home with

somebody who had our last old baby, a tradition is

forming, he has our old cache which saves him cash. Its

nice if you can recycle things, and I’m sure our friend

will spruce it up to make it better than we had it. I

know somebody who has a computer who has never done a

disc cleanup, but that’s another story. As for us I now

have to backup our old files, can you imagine how many

1000 photos you take when you have a young children; you

have to send them to grandma in Shanghai and friends in

Toyko and Taiwan and Singapore, and the most exotic

Stourbridge and Reading and Frankfurt. You do have some

on the family website but now as change is in the air you

must backup everything, you cannot lose your children’s

childhood snaps.

Yesterday I looked at USB sticks they can be pretty

expensive, finally I worked out how much stuff we just

had to backup and move. Play.com turned out to have the

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best offer for 16gig flash security. Lets hope it’s a

simple as I think it is to back things up, I have 14gig

of stuff to backup. As you can imagine I have to keep my

other babies safe, my stories my writing, which are

dreams in themselves. I had them on floppy discs

scattered all around my house. I do have my site

www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com so my “masterpieces” will

survive fire and floor and even nuclear war as the are on

a server on a different continent. However I still need

them on my new baby computer my new Emachine, so my 16gig

flash storage will have a mission. There is one thing to

remember though I remember somebody saying if you don’t

dismount/unload you media properly then you lose what’s

on the flash media. Well I’ll find out about that soon

enough, Wednesday will be my security day.

Then once everything is safely loaded I can breath a sigh

of relief. But what else do you have to do once you have

your new baby, your new computer. Get connected to the

Internet, without being swamped by viruses because you

forgot to get an anti virus program. Set up accounts on

the computer, I have my side and my wife has her side.

With a Shanghai wife though I get stray Chinese

characters appearing on our current computer, and strange

73

things have happened. So I need to keep a clear head

while I get things as I want them to be, however give it

a fortnight and China will have invaded my side of the

computer and stolen all the duvet. I still dream of

having my books in Waterstones and sold as Ebooks for all

these new devices, but most of all I want a computer just

for me!

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25.Where do the tears go when they are shed©

By

Michael Casey

Where do the tears go when they are shed While I lie here

crying on my bed Do the tears drip drip away and seep

thoughThe floorboards and head for the sea. Do my tears

join an ocean that rises and falls Do the tears yell and

scream but only sea farers Hear them, do whales moan as

they crash through them Only whales know of my distress as

my tears groan In deep deep oceans in the unknown dark

deep seas.

Do my tears head north to the North Pole and Santa Does

Santa Ho Ho Ho so much because he is trying to drown

Out The cries and sobs and tears held back for so many

years. Do tears form ice shelves and become icebergs,

silent and majestic Like giant cathedrals of ice. Is this

the way to silent the voice of tears. Frozen in Time for

100s of years, the fears of today and yesterday are

Merged As one, gagged for eternity in an ice

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cathedral. Will everything be forgot, deep freezed, quick

frozen like garden peas.

Do my tears evaporate and head for the sky, joining the

clouds as they pass by. Are my tears blown this way and

that, are they taken far away over the ocean. As planes

pass through the clouds that are my tears, can the

passengers hear Can the passengers hear my tears, all my

hopes and fears, or are my tears Drowned out by the in

flight movie, 007 killing my prayers to heaven.

Do my tears wash away my pain, my guilt, are they like

mothers’ milk? For tears touch us all, they are like a

morning mist that shrouds us. For tears are the dark dark

night of the soul, a cold coat that covers us. In the

morning we remember we fell asleep crying, but what of

now? Now we’ve looked at our dead mum’s photo and think of

what she would have said. We smile as we remember, her

fight, her love, her spirit, her smile. But never tears,

she shed no tears for us, she shed no tears for us. Tears

will come, tears will come again, but they are just

water, we are stronger Than mere water, we have a boat and

that boat is Love.

****Well I dug this out from my PC I wrote it a year

ago...Michael

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26. From A to B or From Sat Nav to Blocked Sink

By Michael Casey

Well I hope you are all fine this morning. For us the Sat

Nav debate continues.

In the old days a Black Taxi would not be seen using an

AtoZ, it was beneath his dignity. He'd done the Knowledge

and it was all up there in his head. Jack Rozenthal wrote

a great play about it, was it 30years ago? Maureen Lipman

was his real wife.

Delivery drivers have and egg and bacon butty in one hand

dripping egg on to the AtoZ in their other hand while

they try and deliver a chest of drawers, with 5 days

growth of beard for good measure.

Bus drivers know their route, so once they've done it a

while its automatic, they know what they are doing. All

they have to do is put up with kids trying to use a 3 day

old ticket, and not get too high from all the cannabis on

the bus. Or remember when they have switched routes

because that can lead to strange directions.

77

Door to door salesmen all those years ago, with the rap

at tat tat on the back door had their route carrying the

suitcase with samples in. I can vaguely remember one at

our back door did my mum buy a clothes brush? But that

must be 45 years ago.

So basically we all know what we want and where we are

going. Going further back they say people only knew a

six block radius around their home. Going to War changed

all that as did radio and then more importantly tv. Tv

being our eyes on the world, previous to that only

Merchant Seaman knew of the world. My own granddad was a

merchant seaman, I sometimes wonder did he ever get to

Shanghai

Or was it me, his grandson who got there first. Had he

visited at the turn of the 19th/20th Century 100years and

more ago.

Which brings us back to Sat Nav. Me I use a bus which is

fine apart from the pot heads who sit next to you on the

bus and all I want to do is puke. My wife is a car

driver, so she and our girls love the car. But my wife

has borrowed a Sat Nav and likes the ease of it so now

she wants one of her own. The result is that I’m being

nagged to provide one. You pay, me pay, yes you pay, why

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me pay, because you are the husband so you pay, no way me

pay, you pay you pay yourself, I say. And on the ding

dong, sing song goes. Which is the fun part. Me I no pay,

use computer I say. You can get perfect directions off

the computer all you then have to do is print them off,

if our printer was still working we’d be doing that. So

really all the wife has to do is copy them down, in

English.

She’s busy with the wok as I talk to you, she’s

compromised now, she only wants me to pay half. So I say

I’ll be doubly generous and double the share I won’t pay,

I’ll pay zero and she can pay 100%. That’s the true

spirit of negotiation, now I have another thing to

resolve, she’s blocked the sink, so pardon me now as I

take the plunge, or rather take the plunger to the sink,

no need to use a Sat Nav to get there, its over my

shoulder in the next room, just turn left at the tv and

go straight on to the sound of bubbles. Love is

everywhere don’t you know it, just find it, no Sat Nav

required.

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27.Read My Mind ©

By

Michael Casey

I just read in the Sunday paper that soon they’ll be able

to read my mind, everybody’s mind. A computer firm is

scanning brains so that in future you can control your

computer with just a thought.

“Where do you do to my lovely when you’re alone and in

your bed, tell me the thoughts that surround you” as

Peter Sarstead sung in the old and very good song.*

Now the song was a great song, perhaps they’ll play it on

Magic again soon.

But our thoughts are private like the sunglasses of our

mind. They ring fence our brain and keep strangers out,

they hide our boredom when at Company events, the same

speech and the same director laughing at his own jokes

while as one we all think “what a plonker”. A whole hall

wishing he’d stop so we could get on with the

entertainment, free bar and circus.

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Politicians lie, we all think they do, and if we could

read their minds we’d all throw cabbages at them, or eggs

or just manifestos. We heard what Gordon really though of

that lady and it helped lose the Election for him. Then

the apology shambles, you can’t take back something like

that. If somebody could read Gordon’s mind they would

have dived in to save him before he even said it.

Politicians need to be clear but they never are. Why have

clarity when you can have deniability. Let’s just wish

Gordon a good relaxing next 5 years.

But what of you and what of me. You see a girl, you see a

boy, you’ve got your shades on, you take a good hard

look, the object of your attention cannot see your eyes,

you try and look cool and not move your head an inch. But

you lust after him, you lust after her. Choose your own

words as to what you are thinking, or are you lusting.

Well they’ll never know because they cannot read your

mind. But if they could, they’d be a few slapped faces

that’s for sure. Or they’d be a few sudden snogs in

doorways and in bus shelters or on the top decks of

buses. And all because we can read each other’s minds.

Perhaps in the future the gismo to read minds would be

attached to your shades, so you’d look cool while they

81

drool.

What about your mum if she could read your mind? She’d be

sending you to bed without supper, she’d scream and shout

“get out of my house.”

What about old gran and granddad, they’d know what you

really think of them. Do you love them or are you just

playing along to get their money when they die.

Reading Minds is a dangerous thing, we need protection

from ourselves, a stray spoken word can hurt, but

luckily our words are locked up in our minds and they can

be chosen and picked and used with caution. But if they

were there all naked in front of us, no nuances, no

clarification then we’d all be in big trouble. I believe

we think

4 times faster than we speak, but speech is our filter

so that we DO pick the right words, we don’t say the

wrong thing. Reading Minds can be dangerous, yes it would

be great if you could walk down the road and have all the

girls dreaming of you, but what if you were walking down

the road and you could heard everybody’s inner voice

saying I hate you. What You Don’t Know Cann’t Hurt You,

so as far as I’m concerned I’ll Fortune Telling to

Gypsies.

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*Peter Sarstead copyright

28.My Daddy’s like Google he knows everything ©

By Michael Casey

My kids were in London today for a day out with my wife

and one of her friends. Me I stayed home I’d picked up

some bug last night , so I nursed my bug.

The girls were all excited when they came home and my

smallest one was telling a story. It began with a box

fell from the sky, but it was no ordinary box, it was a

magic box. So I told her to keep the idea in her head

and she could write it out in the morning, it was late

now. Her bigger sister observed that when she wrote she

wrote all posh, but when she talked she did not. I then

tried to explain the difference between :- speaking,

writing, presenting, teaching. Some people may be able to

do one but this does not prove/equate to being able to do

another. Then my smallest let loose with the line that I

was Google and should be a teacher and that I should

write kids books. I’ll do anything IF somebody sponsors

me, or becomes my patron, though in my case it would be

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Saint Rita or Saint Jude themselves who’d help. Thinking

back to 1969 I did win a Junior Free Handwriting

Competition, I have the certificate somewhere, Brook Bond

sponsored it, I’d forgotten about it till just now.

Daddy, any daddy has to try and be an encyclopaedia to

give his kids some information, in some SciFi film or it

may have been in Dr Who I saw a battered Robot became the

teacher, with holograms too. If only I could be some sort

of magician, then that would be swell as the Americans

say, card tricks with lessons on, sleight of hand passing

messages of learning. I am award that I have to try hard

and give good information out, otherwise 1984 becomes a

reality, rubbish becomes fact, and facts become rubbish.

There are more questions than answers, luckily I’m very

eclectic so I can give a base camp answer, then watch as

their minds click and you can see from their expression,

from the look in their eyes that they understand and they

can begin to work things out for themselves or just have

a look online. The main thing though is that Daddy, this

daddy, me, encourages his girls to use their brains.

The cobwebs may grow IF I didn’t have children asking

this and asking that. In a couple of years time my

biggest daughter can read my book, it’s a 12 certificate

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so although she’s seen it she’ll just have to wait for

the dubious honour of reading daddy’s The Butcher The

Baker and The Undertaker.

29. Its Just got to be Winnie The Pooh

Its Just Got to be Winnie The Pooh. My youngest daughter

just loves Winnie The Pooh, my wife thinks it’s because I

look like Winnie The Pooh, judge for yourselves.

We have a collection of soft toys tidied away behind the

settee, about 40 I think. Every now and then my small

daughter lines them up in rows and she's the teacher.

Winnie The Pooh is always 1st in the queue. Then she

takes the register and tells the toys to pay attention.

Then she reads to them, everything is done in an orderly

way. I think she'll end up a scientist as she's so

organised, my wife did Science back in Shanghai, so its

in the genes. Her Chinese grandfather did a bit of

writing too, as did her Chinese great uncle, and then

there is me www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com , so writing

is in the blood too. Does anybody remember Abbott the

Physics text book? That just sprung to mind, we were told

to read it cover to cover, my brother actually did do

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that.

So back to Winnie The Pooh, I'm being told that she wants

a Winnie The Pooh lunchbox, she just saw it in the Netto

leaflet that came through our door. Then another leaflet

had a Winnie The Pooh duvet and duvet cover. I did buy

her a Winnie The Pooh blow up cushion but that delevoped

a slow leak, so I stuffed Winnie the Pooh with a few old

pillows, and she was able to continue sitting on it. We

have Winnie The Pooh dvds and some old VHS tapes too, and

a few days ago we bought her a Winnie The Pooh cutlery

set along with a face cloth. So thats just the tip of a

big iceberg, she has a white Tigger thats not really

Tigger but he does look like a very very pale snow

Tigger. When she grows up we will tease her about this.

But I know one day a chubby cuddly man will ask my

permission to marry her, perhaps his name will be

Christopher Robin.

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30. The Best Years Of Our Lives ©

By Michael Casey

They say that the best years of our lives are our

schooldays. Maybe its true, but we are all too busy doing

the homework, or suffering Latin homework. I can vouch

for Latin in Grammar school, it’s a form of torture, but

it does help your vocabulary, and it does make you

perservere.

I suppose Uni is the best days of your lives too, until

you get the bill. And realise that nobody rates a degree

any more because everybody has one so the currency is

devalued. 3 years experience doing something while you

did you degree in film studies. So the experienced one

gets the job.

Getting married and setting up home, are they the best

years of our lives? Then the first baby and the lack of

sleep, learning to catch and throw dirty nappies out the

house, just like a wicket keeper.

Finally getting your book published. Getting a few plays

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on the stage, having a column in The Sun and The

Telegraph, would these be the best days of our lives.

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

Or is it the old days, when your life is in part 2, when

the grave can be seen in the distance, it may be 50years

away but you’ve have the 1st 50 years so you are on the

slide to the grave. With experience and love your view of

life has changed, you have a young family, but you know

how to love them. You can feel it in the air, you can see

it in the garden, you can hear the children’s laughter,

you can enjoy a glass or two, but you are at Peace,

that’s when you have reached The Best Days Of Your Life.

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31. Let My Tears Be My Words (c)

by Michael Casey

Let There Be Light ©

By Michael Casey

Let my tears be my words

Let the candle light be my eyes

Let the flowers in bloom be my lips

Let their scent be my blood

Let the wind be my breath

Let clouds be my mood

Let children’s laughter be my hope

Let widows’ sighs be my conscience

Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight

Let the bees be my wisdom

Let the trees be my strength

Let my patience reach to the stars

Let me be always remembered in your prayers

End

p.s.

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**** I hope you enjoy my poetry, there's more at

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

Poems are like butterflies there appear from nowhere and

flutter by, we are amazed by their beauty then they are

gone. This one came to me about 2 years ago when I was

hiding in St Phillips cathedral during my lunch break. I

got the 1st couple of lines. Once home I sat in my old

big blue chair in front of the computer and then worked

out the rest. You can see a photo on my site. I have now

updated the old chair, all I need is a new computer.

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32. The Lambs have gone its Silent ©

By Michael Casey

The Lambs have gone its Silent, my girls are in London

today, my wife took them there. So I'm home alone, and

its so silent.

"Dad, what does xyz mean" asks my big daughter, but she's

not here,

I explain and tell her to use one of the dictionaries we

have. I want her to be able to find out answers herself.

When you explain things you find that you try and be so

exact so that you don't confuse your kids. It probably

makes me think more clearly too.

This morning my smallest girl put a Tamagatu purple cat

on the desk, she said it would keep me company while they

were away. Its still on the desk besides me as I talk to

you. My old copy of Don Camillo's Dilemma is there too,

I've read 50pages just 200 more to go, then its Don

Camillo meets the Hells Angels, then I'm done, 6 books

all about a Catholic priest and a Communist Lord Mayor.

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The stories were 1st written over 50 years ago, I know no

Italian so I read them in English translation. I was

actually going to learn Italian several years ago, only I

got distracted by this Shanghai girl, I married her, you

can see some photos of us all on this site, we were at a

wedding a few days ago. I'm the George Clooney look alike

in the photos, though my hair looks as though I've washed

it in DAZ. Our 2 girls are there too, along with the

wife, not forgetting the Bride and Groom. As for Italian,

I put the books in an old holdall and put that under my

bed, years later my nephew was learning Italian, so I

donated everything to him.

You could hear a pin drop in the house, its so silent,

and yes I hate it. All I have is the pain from tearing

down the fence, its sharp and makes me wince a bit, but

aren't we all stupid sometimes, or is it just me who's

cornered the market. I look to my right and can hear the

clock ticking, its a battery powered but still I can hear

it. No small girls running about in the room above me. No

Blick DAB radio blaring out Galaxy on their radio above.

The clock in the living room strikes nine, my girls

should be getting on the train home now. London Euston to

Birmingham, 28pounds for the 3 of them with Virgin

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trains, see the offers for yourself. I can hear the

boiler click into action, heating the water for baths on

their return. The computer hums in front of me, just by

my knee. I hope I win the HP Envy 17 laptop in this weeks

Sun's competitions, our computer is 7 years old and

freezes a lot. The irony is I joined the MySUN site so I

could enter the competitions, and then I stumbled into

putting my blogs here on MySun. The sound of the keyboard

echoes around our empty house.

I jump in my seat, the telephone has just exploded, my

wife has just rung to say they missed the train. Only she

was teasing, I can hear our kids in the background on the

train. So all is well, but too too quiet. I know one

thing I could never live alone. Tomorrow the kids will

want Tux Paint on the computer, or want to use the

Graphic Tablet on the computer. There will be noise

galore, a family noise, the noise I prayed for all those

years ago.

Cheerio from Birmingham and London Euston

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

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33. Take my Fence Away ©

By

Michael Casey

Well just for something different today I took my fence

away. The day had started noisily when a courier nearly

knocked my door down, and it wasn’t even my parcel. So

wishing him well I closed my door. Half an hour later a

polite knocker knocked at my door. “Sorry for disturbing

you” he began “yes you are disturbing me” I finished as I

closed the door. I don’t know about you but I just wish

cold callers didn’t bother. Or they all got a disease and

took the Junk Email writers with them, a kind of modern

plague, where the skeletons decayed over computers. But

perhaps I’m being too mean today.

As for my fence, we have a rickety old one on one side

next to the entry, its parallel supports with boards

nailed alternately on the inside and on the outside.

However with age it’s developed a stoop, or backward

lunge, a kind of limbo dancing look.The alley is kind of

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blocked because of this, but nobody uses it but me,

however I decided it was getting dangerous, so the fence

had to go. Just in case. So I leant on the fence and it

creaked and groaned, not unless that was my back. 3

sections gave way, the supporting posts had had it for

years. Then all I had to do was saw the last bit away.

Only I don’t have a saw, but I do have a metal saw ,or

rather just the blade which was part of the tools I

inherited 30 years ago. They gather dust mainly as I am

not a DIY kind of person. I can work out what needs to be

done, but as for doing it, I leave that to the experts. I

once tried painting a wall, only it took gallons of

paint, the wall was covered in a wallpaper that was just

like carpet, so it just soaked up the paint, a bit like

painting a bear I suppose, not that I’ve ever tried

painting a bear.

But back to the fence, finally I’d sawn away the last

support and I had a kind of wooden ladder in my entry.

All I had to do was heave it to the rubbish area at the

bottom of my garden. I had to jump up and down to break

it up, I had to be very careful too as there were 6 inch

nails all over it. Rusty nails but still dangerous, apart

from the one I nearly stabbed my chest with, everybody

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must have done similar such things. Did I ever tell you

when I painted my bathroom. It’s on my site

somewhere www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

Michael’s Bathroom.

But back to the fence, I was triumphant when I

was finished, then the washing line broke, my bright

orange Polo top with a polo scene on it went sailing to

the ground along with my jeans. Another task for me.

Over the road in the hardware store I got a plastic

washing line, £4.50 I was robbed. I also bought some green

twine, £1.60, I had an idea you see. Once home I got my

biggest daughter to hold the end while I tied it to the

tree and then to the peg in the wall. I didn’t realise

just how long 20m is, so I was able to have 2 new plastic

washing lines. This is good in the long run as I live

with 3 girls, if only I had another bathroom, but I need

a lottery win before that happens, or Rupert Murdoch sees

this and gives me a job. Hold on a second while I watch a

pig fly past.

So now I had a new washing line, all I needed was a new

fence. That’s where the twine comes in. I called my girls

outside, together we ran up and down the yard tying the

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twine to what was left of the supporting posts. A kind of

net, a bit like the net at Wimbledon was formed. Straight

lines then vertical lines in between, plus some coloured

paper to make it more attractive. My big daughter has

done crochet at school so she was well pleased with her

efforts. My wife said it looked like prison bars but she

just has no imagination said me and the girls. We hope

small birds will rest on the top line and sing to us. It

was a fun hour or so, apart from the twinge in my back,

the fence was heavy after all. I forgot one thing, I

wanted to teach the girls about Gravity, so I shook the

Apple Tree at the bottom of the garden and they watched

the apples fall, Newton remembered. Then they gathered a

few apples and pretended to cook them, the apples were

bobbing in a container, Archimedes came to mind so I

mentioned him to them. All in all an educational Summers

Day.

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34. So hypnotize me©

By Michael Casey

So hypnotize me

I was just picking up the kids from the school on the

hill, I overheard a mum saying that her son was thinking

of doing Hypnotism as a subject for part of his

University course. It made me think about what kind of

world we’d be if we could use hypnotism to iron out the

rough spots. If we could use it to make us all shiny and

new all the time. It made me think of Sci fi films, from

Logan’s Run to Matrix, the perfect world.

So what if it was just weight loss, or fear of animals

that was hypnotized away. You used to be able to listen

to a tape while you slept and then hey presto in the

morning you could speak Chinese. That’d be good in our

house as my wife is a Shanghai girl and our girls speak

Chinese with her while I’m trying to write here at the

computer.

Learning piano via hypnotism would be good too, my small

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daughter is now trying out the guitar after playing on

the piano for 30mins. We saved up for years to buy the

piano and then my brother gave us a child size guitar

which he’d picked up cheap in The Works. My girl is

making up a song now behind me as I talk to you, its hard

trying to type when you’re trying not to laugh, try it

for yourself.

Now hypnotists use a watch to hypnotize, so that’d

interest me straight away, just the watch. I have a

Russian KGB officer automatic at present, if you’re read

The Watch and Me you’ll know about me and watches. When I

have some money I hope to buy an Oris watch, but it will

have to be a strong one. So there I am being hypnotized

to learn after dinner speaking, I’d really love to get on

that circuit, however I don’t know any Freemasons. I’m

being hypnotized when I realize the hypnotist has a

lovely Omega, so what happens. My love of watches

overrules the hypnotist, I escape with his Omega and the

hypnotist is found staring at the clock at New Street

Station, he’s mumbling just look into my eyes, look into

my eyes. I’m sent back to the hypnotist, he’s very

famous, he has a Cartier Bleu watch, he just gives it to

me, everything becomes a blur.In the morning I wake up in

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bed speaking Chinese and giving an after dinner speech,

on one wrist is an Omega, on the other is a Cartier Bleu.

As for the hypnotist he’s found on the no8 bus going

around and around Birmingham, on his wrist is my Russian

KGB officer watch, and guess what, he’s speaking Russian.

Das Vidanya Everybody, Michael

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

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35. Pizza and Rice©

Pizza and Rice

I wouldn’t say I have a love affair with frozen food, say

pizza, nor that I like my bacon sandwiches so much. Its

just that I used to work such odd hours. Getting home at

9pm doesn’t encourage you to get Delia’s book out and be

creative. You just want something quick, as its 6 hours

or so since your late lunch at 3pm. It may even be nearly

10pm when you get home, after doing a work favour for

somebody. So now your stomach does think that your throat

has been cut, it rumbles away as you sit on the bus,

other passengers think its the deep base of somebody’s

personal stereo. Once home its flick Sky on grab dinner

from the freezer, in 10 minutes time the dinnertime Pizza

is ready, washed down by two mugs of milky coffee. If

Delia has got 1/2 a page left to fill she could just

squeeze it into one of her books.

Time moves on and I’m married and we have two little

girls. Rice is on the menu daily, you need a degree in

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Oriental Languages to know what’s in the fridge. I have a

Shanghai wife who really can cook. Chopsticks make an

appearance, as does the spoon shovelling techniques for

eating. I can come home to find movement in the kitchen

sink, its alive and will soon be dinner, its a crab. Fish

is being cooked too, the rice cooker is on, you would not

believe just how fluffy and nice rice can be. Before

Shanghai, I’d have scoffed at the idea of rice being so

different, Ambrosia creamed rice from a tin was the

height of my experience, now I scoff nice rice. My wife

goes to the Korean shop to buy the rice as it tastes so

good. We are lucky we have a huge Ying Yip down the road

a few miles too. Once dinner is ready there are 3 or 5

dishes on the table, Phoenix is of the TV too. I think my

wife only came around to my house in the first place all

those years ago because I had Chinese tv, either that or

she really loved my frozen pizza. Occasionally there are

prawn crackers on offer, you really have to be quick to

make these or you’ll burn them and yourself.

My dad used to have a bowl of corn flakes as a snack

before bedtime if he was peckish, I do the same. Cereals

tend to be my breakfast too as they are so quick and easy

to make, well they make themselves. My wife likes snacks

102

too, but they can seem tasteless to a Western tongue.

However biscuits and cakes from Sainsbury’s are a delight

for her, if I search hard enough I can find them, our

girls love them too. You have to understand if you follow

the Eastern diet then you are very slim, both of my girls

are slim and tall, so to fall of the Eastern diet is a

treat. Going to the chip shop for them is a bit of a

wonder, they get “takeaway” every day at home, so chips

is a treat. As for me my diet has improved as I have the

left overs, though I still weigh 3 times more than my

size 0 wife. As for me and Delia, we do have one thing in

common, and I don’t mean our love of food, Delia and Me

are catholics.

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36. Family Traits

I was thinking about what to talk about today, as I need

to practice my writing skills, Eric Clapton once said in

an interview that if you don't practice you could lose

your gifts, so practice. So this is what I'm thinking

about today.

Our kids, all of our kids inherit things from their

parents. Beauty or lack of it, freckles and red hair or

not. Being a bonnie baby or not, being quiet or not. Our

first daughter was very quiet and did not wake us up in

the night. However the 2nd one was the opposite, if she

was the 1st one then maybe we wouldn't have bothered with

a 2nd. Ask your own friends for their experiences. Our

1st one was born in the early hours, I got home at 3am

and had to explain to my Shanghai mother in law that it

was a daughter. A week previously I had been to my

brother's house where we loaded up an estate car, Steve

from Steve's takeaway had helped. My brother had saved

everything from his kids and now he passed it on to

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me.Then once home me and the mother in law had

constructed the cot, without any common language between

us, it took 1.5hours. Today it would take 1/2 that time

as the mother in law understands a lot more English and

I'm much better at contructing flat packs.

Our 1st girl was born almost on Padre Pio's own

Birthday, he being the Saint who'd started the ball

rolling so to speak. Our daughter was big, like me I

suppose. But she has perfect Chinese hair, the kind of

hair girls would kill for. Look at the photos here and

judge for yourself. Apart from that I suppose she looks

very Western.

The thing you learn very fast when you have a baby is how

to change nappies and get them and their smell out the

house. You save all the plastic bags from shopping, and

its a bit like wicket keeping, a catch and a throw and

out the door. Ask any cricketers if nappy changing is as

I've explained. I'm sure they'll agree.

As children grow then traits appear. Our 2nd child is

very funny. Before she was born she was in Shanghai and

her granddad was making my wife laugh. A child in the

womb can hear, so our daughter would have heard all the

laughter, as did her born sister. I think my wife was 8

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months pregnant when she returned home. I can remember

waiting at Heathrow after they'd had 2 months in

Shanghai. My daughter was sitting on the luggage trolley

being pushed by grandma, behind was my very pregnant

wife. I was crying with happiness. And as the cot was

already ready, no 1.5hours of Lego like building.

Drawing is a delight for both my girls. My wife can do

all fancy stuff, Calligraphy and Chinese letters etc. She

even used to go drawing of some sort for the Police in

Shanghai. One of my brothers is good too. So drawing is

in both sides of the gene pool.

As kids grow the family features show. My big daughter

looks like me when I was her age, its like Dr Who in a

way, she is my past and I am her future, its a bit spooky

as the resemblance is so very strong. My other daughter

apparently looks exactly like my wife when she was young

though she is Western looking. So Nature has given each

of us, a clone so to speak. Our youngest also has the

fantasic hair too. You'd have to do some market research

amongst your friends to see if all of them rate hair as

the best thing to have. So long as neither of them go

white early like me.

37. Dress Sense

106

Do men have any dress sense? Walk down your local street

and see what you can see. Me I've not worn a shirt for a

year. I prefer rugby shirts, even though its decades

since I was dangerous on a rugby field. Rugby shirts can

be pulled on and pulled off and thrown in the washing

machine. I have a bright orange one with a polo scene on

it, in fact I have 3 exactly the same. I bought then in

Sawgrass Mills Florida which is the biggest shopping mall

in Florida. There was a sale on when I was there so I

ended up buying 3. At my size you take your bargains when

they come. As for shoes, are black shoes only for the

office and interviews. Personally I like comfy shoes,

brown ones too. I always buy 2 pairs together in the 1/2

price sale. I suppose I could be related to Ken Clarke

such is my choice of shoes. When I used to wear shirt and

ties I always wore bright colours, reds or yellows, that’s

the ties not the shirts. Boring white or blue shirts were

my choice. Never buy a non iron shirt because they always

DO need ironing and they are impossible to iron and end

up looking like a dried out prune. And don't forget to

comb your hair and brush and dandruff off. The worse

thing in the world is dandruff on your shoulders. Moving

on, trousers should always be comfortable, if you bend

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down to tie your shoelaces and you hear a ripping noise

that means the trousers were too tight. Only John

Travalta can look cool in tight trousers. So be honest

with yourself, if you look like Shrek in a suit then

CHANGE. Though I have to confess I've been told I'm a bit

of a Shrek, even though I thought my 18.5 inch neck with

a bright red tie hanging from it made me look important.

Ah well what can a man do? Well ask your wife could be a

good idea, but run for the hills if she says she'll come

shopping with you. You know it'll mean you'll end up with

2 new pink shirts, while she buy 20 items she really

really needs.

Happy Shopping everybody.

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38. Home ©

by

Michael Casey

Home is where the heart is. Homeless is outside a house

looking in wishing it were your home .Put into a Home is

where due to circumstances a loved one has to be put into

care.

As I talk to you this morning I have a drawing on the

desk propped up by the computer speakers .It’s a drawing

of a girl with all her hair to one side, she has long

eyelashes and is carrying a small bag. Besides the biro

drawing of the girl is a big heart and some stars,

written above is “For Daddy.” I have a notepad on the desk

in front of the computer monitor so my girls love leaving

drawings. On the side of the fridge is this weeks spelling

list, held there by magnets that aunty gave us. On top of

the fridge is a fruit bowl full of fruit and sweets. By

the fruit bowl is container full of pens and crayons, a

shopping list in Mandarin beside it. There are photos of

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family scattered about the house, in one corner photos of

my mum and dad both long gone, but still much loved. When

you get to Heaven you’ll see them is what I say to my

girls.We found a stilly photo of me so I put it on the

shelf next to the huge red Chinese dictionary, the fairy

from the Christmas tree is also on that shelf waiting

ever patiently for Christmas to return. Behind me is a

painting of an angel a Bourne Jones copy, blowing a flute

thing. Girls shoes are scattered about the house, waiting

to trip me up. Behind the sofa in this room are two huge

bags of soft toys, waiting to escape .Once my smallest is

back home she’ll release the soft toys from their

Jail. Then she’ll line them up in rows and sitting on the

teddy bear wooden stool she’ll be teacher. All the toys

have names and she’ll chide them as together they learn

this week’s spellings. Her big sister has her nose in a

book, she’s determined to win a prize from the local

library for reading the most books. I told her I read

everything in the school library when I was young. The

sound of chickens comes from the living room LULU, not

that lulu, but a chat show queen on Phoenix can be heard.

Then my wife is on the phone while she shakes her big

wok. I look outside and am pleased to see my sea of

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shamrock, I transplanted it here many years ago, it

nearly died during the harsh Winter we just had but now I

have enough for all of Riverdance. I’ll stop there for

now. But you can see what I’m on about. A home is a

combination of all the things I’ve just talked about. A

home is a physical place, but it is much more than that.

It’s the little things inside the house that turn it into

a home. Such as the Looney Chick toy that I’m using as a

cushion, my girls brought it back all the way from

Shanghai last year, and now we use it as a cushion. The

drawings on the desk in front of me are done with love by

my girls. Sharing a pack of Rolos, even though you love

them so much, this is home, this is family. In the end,

where there is love then there is a home. Without the

love even if your home was better than a 5 star hotel,

then it really wouldn’t be a home, it would be just a

location. For as we all know Home is where the Heart is.

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39. The Weather Forecast©

By Michael Casey

In England we have weather, elsewhere they have climate.

Which may explain why here in England we are obsessed by

the weather and the weather forecast. I know my own wife

always demands I change channels so she can decide if she

can put the washing out, and what clothes she can wear. I

tell her she can press the red button, but that’s no good

she wants the live show of the weather. Then she can hang

my pants out, and get changed. When I visited Shanghai a

decade ago we’d be walking back to her mum’s flat she’d

point to the sky and there on the bamboo rods were my

pants blowing in the wind. Just like a flag she laughed.

So nothing much has changed, only the location of my

pants. Now on an old fashioned washing line in Old Forge

and Singing Anvil, then on a bamboo pole 4 flights up in

Shanghai, and there were no lifts in her mum’s block of

flats, lucky for us we did not have to walk to the 10th

floor. Explains why the Chinese are so fit and thin.

112

But why do we love the weather so much? Because its so

variable, so we lust after news of the weather, lust is

the correct word too. People go mad when the sun pops

out. Where I live its as if there is an alarm, the alarm

goes off and suddenly all the men are out on the street

of Old Forge and Singing Anvil, with shorts on. Really

ugly legs too, me I never wear shorts, though I once met

Freddie Garretty from Freddie and the Dreamers. Remember

the song? Who wears short shorts, we wear short shorts.

Am I really getting old, or do I just have a good memory

for trivia. Whatever, where I live men just love getting

their legs out. They must have an alarm in their pockets

attached to their mobile phone, text message tells them

to get their shorts on.

So don’t get burnt everybody and don’t forget the

sunscreen.

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40. Call Centre Calling ©

By Michael Casey

We all just love call centres, we all just love it when

they call when we've just sat down on the toilet and

we're expecting a call from grandma in Shanghai. So the

phone rings and we dash for the Andrex and the sink to

wash our hands in. Then still pulling up our pants, we

fall down stairs just as Norman Wisdom or Brian Rix would

do, then pulling up our pants and doing up our trouser's

belt we pass by the hall mirror and see the black eye

we've just got. We answer the phone, there is a long long

pause, as if the call centre guy is having a final drag

on his **** before answering, "hi I'm Guy, could I

interest you in cable tv, I've got such a great package

to offer." his voice oh so so sexy, in his imagination

anyway. Has he not heard of Sky, the best package. So we

swear in Shanghai dialect, and hang up the phone. Then we

notice our trousers are split, the one's grandma in

Shanghai had made for us, the trousers for her Panzi, her

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Fat Fat Boy son in law.

If only we could get revenge, just like in Bruce

Almighty. A bottled water company rings, so we click our

fingers and its as if the Dam Busters had breached that

dam, a sodden girl will NEVER ring your number again.

Then there's a knock at your door, it’s the Mormons, you

smile and smile, and they start running away, only asking

which way is the airport. Why? Well I'll leave that to

your imagination. The phone rings again, so you do heavy

breathing, only for a voice at the other end of the phone

to say "I'm Sergeant Dixon, would you be interested in

joining the neighbourhood watch scheme." "Sorry Wrong

Number is your reply." You decide to change, you're half

way up the stairs when the phone ring again, you turn and

fall down the stairs again. Your wife is just in the door

and she answers the phone, she can see you over her

shoulder, "I told you you were too fat for those

trousers" You trip over again, "bloody call centres is

all you can say."

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41. Go to bed with the Japanese©

By Michael Casey

I just read about the Japanese being asked to go to bed

early to save energy and the carbon footprint and so

forth. I don't know about you but that'd end in a baby

boom in my family. The good old days of 12 children and

so forth. Shifts for the bed and the first one up being

the best one dressed. With the Japanese perhaps an early

whale sandwich on the tube to work. So they'd save the

planet but wipe out the whale. More sleep is a good idea,

then you have more dreaming opportunities. I have a dream

etc. Perhaps with more sleep the Japanese would invent

more things. My wife is almost Japanese as are all her

relatives and fellow citizens of Shanghai, Shanghai has

so much pride they could almost be Japanese. Don't forget

the song too, "I'm turning Japanese, I really think so."

Top of the Pops memories come flooding back. For my own

part I've discovered the joys of headphones and a

personal DAB radio, its great if you don't want to go to

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sleep yet. Radio4 Midnight news followed by a bit of Bob

Harris or Magic Radio. Sleeping is good but you have to

collate your day before you go off to the land of Nod.

Then you are in a relaxed state so you really chill with

the music. Chill is another DAB station, listen to this

and sometimes you could really be in Japan, in one of

those sleeping capsules in one of those small hotels.

Sleep really is the greatest gift of all, once you have

your 1st baby you will really know what I mean. You sleep

less when you get older, so I've heard, but then you can

put the radio on and listen to something, or just read a

book while you stay all nice and cosy with the duvet

around you. Which brings me to my final thought, if we

all used duvets we wouldn't need to use energy to heat

our bedrooms, and did the Japanese invent duvets?

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42. My Old Age©

By Michael Casey

I'm called "grandpa" by the teachers when I pick up my

kids from school. Because my hair is prematurely white.

In a way its a joke, but I am over 40 years older than my

kids. I was a late starter, but I do have a young wife,

who looks even younger because she's from the East,

Shanghai to be exact. In the East they respect Old Age,

so I'm all in favour of that. But as for having a good

old age, I think I'll be dead, I won't last that long.

I'll have to work to at least 66, and maybe 67. So I'll

be worn out by the time it comes to retire. My dad was a

blacksmith and then spent 40years in a steel works, The

District Iron and Steel in Brasshouse Lane Smethwick. Has

a ring to it don't you agree? He retired a year or two

early when the works was closed down. He had ten golden

years with my mum, then mum died, then he had 5 years in

an old people's home, read Padre Pio and Me

www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com But he at least had those

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golden ten years.

My brother was made redundant and now at 60 he's retired.

He can look forward to 20+years of relaxation and

learning. Me I've got 14 years more to do, if there's any

jobs left. If I could win that lottery, then I'd retire

today and write more books. Or if I could get something

produced/published then I'd be able to retire. The

chances of that happening, probably zero, but strange

things have happened, read Literary Criticism on my site.

Perhaps the government should start a National Laughter

Campaign to cheer us all up, Ken Dodd should be

ringmaster. The thought of years of slavery is saddening,

perhaps we could start a National Singing Campaign, a

kind of whistle while you work, Arthur Askey

reincarnated to pass all those extra working years away.

We could sing the Song of The Hebrew Slaves, for that's

what'll happen, retire at 95 IF we're still alive, in the

year of 2010 If we're still alive

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43. My favourite sweets

My favourite sweets are, now let me stop before I

continue. What are your favourite sweets, as you sit in

front on the PC, a cup of coffee perched by your screen

as you read this instead of doing those oh so interesting

Excel reports for the boss. Can you remember back to when

you were a child? Or have you never given up on sweets,

or are you a parent? Well for me it was always a

Cadbury's Crunch. My brother would sell his very soul for

a Rolo, my youngest daughter loves them too, her delight

is squashing them until these stick to our glass coffee

table, which is also our Chinese eating table. If you

look though the living room window you'll think you're

looking at a restaurant or looking at China. Well you

are, Shanghai to be exact, rice with everything. With a

diet like that my girls are tall and thin. That’s why they

enjoy sweets so much. My big daughter likes Caylie now,

if I've spelt it right. We all adore a nice bag of crisp,

so an Aldi 26 pack does down well. I'm old enough to

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remember the salt being in a blue bag inside the crisps,

and not when they reinvented it 20 years ago, I mean 45

years ago. Pop came in heavy glass bottles which had a

penny refund on the bottle, and you could get some chews

with the refund. I always used to drink the dregs from

the pop bottles before taking the bottles back. My

brother who I'd put a red hot poker on his leg, just for

fun as kids do. Well my brother peed in a few bottles, to

simulate dregs, and yes you've guess it, I drank those

dregs. Which reminded me of the salt in crisps packets.

We had an old fashioned sweet shop just a few yards away

from the family house, two ancient sisters with a small

husband between them lived there and made bread but in

the front room was a sweet shop with all those jars of

sweets. They used to say to us children as we left "off

ye go, home to your parents. So we called the shop "off

ye goes".

As you grow up your tastes change, and its a nice novelty

to rediscover an old fashioned sweet shop. Then the

memories come flooding back. I'm lucky in a way because I

drunk so much milk it protected my teeth from all the

sugar. However I did give up sugar in my coffee when I

was 19, just to see if I could. Blokes discover beer and

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stop having sweets, well until they are parents. As for

women its said that a woman would prefer a bar of

Cadburys or Galexy instead of a man. Give her a Jackie

Collins and chocolate and maybe some Baileys and the

whole human race could die. Sobering thought that. But it

does give a whole new meaning to "I'm Sweet on You."

Cheerio from a wet Birmingham, and don't forget

wine/chocolate/beer/Dr Pepper are all best served cold

just like revenge, as any Mafia friend may tell you,

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44. Praise and Reward

Praise and Reward, it’s a sticky question. Some things

don't ask for praise or reward. Like if your kids do a

small chore for you, they don't ask for a pound, they are

just happy to help you, because they love you. If you are

thirsty they'll fetch you a drink, they won't charge you

for it, they'll do it instinctively. Just as my daughter

did this evening when she watched me decorating, or

rather my attempts at decorating, she even sacrificed her

fizzy pop for me, she knows how I prefer pop to alcohol.

Sometimes I'll offer a reward and she'll turn it down.

For me this shows I'm bringing her up the same way I was

brought up. I know the majority of people reading this

will think I'm old fashioned. I do know that her Irish

grandparents would be so proud of her if ever they saw

her, Irish granddad did hold her in his arms but after 7

months or so he was gone, as for my mum she went early to

make the tea.

Encouragement does work and should be used all the time.

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My youngest daughter just loves Matilda the film based

on the Roal Dahl book. Why does she love it? Because its

funny, and because the little girl does find love with

the teacher. The teacher loves and encourages. Just as

everybody reading this does love and encourage their own

kids, even if at the moment the encouragement is to move

out of the way of the tv so all dad's mates can watch the

world cup, and isn't the garden a great place to be and

dad will give you some money for pop from the corner shop

If only the kids get out of the way of the tv.

My daugher has joined a sunday choir, so there she is

praising God, and she gets rewarded with a few quid for

singing.

They do say we all have to sing for our supper, just like

Little Tommy Tucker.

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45. A Child's Love

How can I describe a child's love? I can speak of myself

when I was a child which from the Birth Certificate was a

long time ago. Though some may say I'm still a child,

others, such as women, all women, say that men never grow

up and are always children.

I can remember when I was 10 and I used to sit on the

top step of the stairs and we'd have a "social", me and

my mum. I'd tell her all we'd done at school and what had

happened, all in quiet a large amount of detail.Then my

mum would kiss me goodnight and give me a gentle pat

sending me off to bed. There was so much love in my mum,

lots and lots, for all her big family, lots of prayer

too. I always got an extra ice cream from my dad when we

were on holiday in Wales, we seemed to go to Abergele all

the time. My dad discovered hamburgers for the 1st and

tried 1 then another then another, in the end he had 6,

such wonderful memories. I seemed to remember a castle

nearby, playing golf with my closest brother, we had 1

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club and 1 putter each, this was before Tiger Woods

existed. Our parents loved us and we loved them, this was

before the Modern Family was invented too. Nobody hated

their parents then, nobody dreamed of the Wii and hating

your parents because they would not buy you one. Tv was 2

channels and in black and white, everything was black and

white, you loved your folks and they loved you.

Now 40 or so years later I'm married and I have two small

girls of my own. My Chinese/Irish girls who love me.

Having a family when you thought you may not ever marry,

and then having 2 beautiful girls, this is very humbling

and does make me thank God. The important thing is to

make sure when they look in the mirror they don't fall in

love with their reflection. Its what's inside that

matters I always tell them. And you know what? Even at

their young age they know that beauty fades and is

worthless. A nice smile and a big big heart is what

matters, the reflection that you see in the mirror is

worthless. Mind you I always tell everybody that I fell

in love with my wife because she made me laugh. Nobody

believes me, but there are 2 people who know I'm telling

it as it is, my 2 daughters know it. I bought a book of

Poetry today, from the cheap book shop. There are lots of

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of illustrations in it, 300 famous poems, including a

Children's poetry section. My biggest daughter loves to

draw and she is good, so the idea is to appeal to her

eyes and to her ears. It worked, she wanted to take the

book to bed with her. I said no as I'm old fashioned and

think books should be preserved, not bend and creased,

especially if read in bed. However as I write this I

think I should have let her. So tomorrow I will allow her

to take it to her room. However her smaller sister does

love to write on anything and everything. Perhaps I

should write a poem about that.

Girls like to be tucked in at night and you have to tell

them a story or say prayers with them. Then 10 mins later

they'll come down because they want a drink of milk, and

another kiss goodnight. And could I possibly come

upstairs and tuck them in again. Then 20mins later they

need another drink, so they come down again. Later on,

the girls reappear because they need the bathroom, well

did have all those drinks. Finally carrying more drinks

they disappear up the stairs. This is our Pantomime, a

pantomime of Love. I think of my dead parents and I know

how they would laugh. And my girls are only here because

my dad survived his big heart attack, Hugs and Kisses is

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what little girls give. I love you 20 is what my small

daughter once said, 20 is a big number, so I'm loved that

much. I hope everybody reading this is loved 20 too!

46. Spare a Penny for Dad©

By Michael Casey

They say that if you look after the pennies the

pounds/dollars will look after themselves. So what

should I say if I have a trail of pennies, if I keep on

finding pennies all over the place, a kind of trail of

pennies. And they are pennies and sometimes dimes, for my

daughter has decided to leave American coins all over the

place for me to find. We were in Florida in 2006 and we

no doubt brought back a few coins. My daughter has found

them and thinks its fun to leave them all over the house

for me to find. I don't know if its just a joke, or is

she trying to encourage me with this trail of coins.

Someday I'll win some money, or maybe even the lottery

and then we can buy a big house and then she can have an

arts and crafts room. That would be better than a trail

of paint and water up the stairs to her room. It is nice

to find the odd American coin, it makes me smile and it

reminds me just how much she loves me. Her younger

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sister has no notion of money, we don't give her money,

we buy her any things she wants so we avoid giving her

cash.

Its better to keep children innocent as long as possible,

some children demand money and know notes are a lot

better/bigger than coins. This always strikes me as

taking the innocent away from children, just as saying

Santa does not exist is a bad and evil thing to say.

Everybody knows Santa is real. Anyway don't let your

children fall in love with money, my youngest doesn't

even know that the brown coins have less value that the

silver ones, nor that the gold ones are best of all. I

want that to stay that way as long as possible.

Streetwise kids are a sad reflection of society, mine

will stay safe for as long as possible.

And as for a trail of American coins around the house,

they are my big daughter's joke, for she knows I'm happy

to find even one penny, especially as it means she loves

me.

Goodnight I have to tuck my children in bed now, and that

is better that all the pennies or pounds in the world.

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47. Jigsaws in Your Mind

I'm dreaming of a White Christmas makes us all think of

Snow and Love and the film with Bing Crosby, not

forgetting Family. A few bars of a song and we are away,

our minds are somewhere else. Mind you in today's world

its a few drugs, or so called legal highs and the youth

of today are away. Their minds turning to mush. Me I

like to use my mind and not destroy it. I've been

thinking about Tears For A Butcher which will be the

follow up to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.

Words, ideas ,dreams float by and I sew them together,

not with a needle and thread but with imagination. It

takes time and a lot of energy to create a jigsaw that is

a story which turns into a book. It’s like word

association, or an old photo that’s discovered and brings

back memories. We found a photo of me in shorts and

wearing glasses I was alongside my tall brother, we were

in Oxford visiting my brother at University. An

angel poise lamp was in the photo, the same angel poise

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lamp that’s sat in a corner of my brother's house today.

Pictures lead to memories and in some cases to more

futures, dreaming of the spires of learning, but that’s

another story and another university. When I write its

with passion, I really am taken over by the words, by the

thoughts, sometimes its like an avalanche and I'm right

in the middle of it. I couldn't be all clinical and

planned and precise. I'm not an architect, I am a

dustman, I pick up what I find and use it, I transform

it, and If I can be pretentious, it transforms me too. We

have a friend who just loves music so I emailed him my

best 3 poems and to his surprize he now now thinks I'm a

poet, in fact his wife just rung my wife, about some

recipe no doubt. Chinese folks are just mad for their

food. Anyways with Poems they sneak into my mind and then

I sit down with the idea and I finish it off. BUT Poems

are in charge of me and now me in charge of them. In Nov

1987 I wrote a poem called The Dead and The Living

because I wanted Percy the Undertaker in my novel to be a

man of great tenderness, a poet in fact. The idea came to

me on a bus as I was on my way to my Sunday shift as a

computer operator. I knew then that I would never write

anything better than those few lines. However last year I

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had a line come to me while I was in Saint Phillips

Cathedral having a rest and a sit down. The line was Let

my Tears be my words. When I got home I sat down and

finished the poem with my daughter sat on the edge of my

chair. When I finished I realised that I'd just written

something better than the Dead and The Living, it had

taken 22years. Such is the nature of Poetry. As for my

comedy writing I start somewhere and a connection will

take me somewhere else, a bit like being a ball in a

pinball machine, I get knocked and flipped and nudged

until I end up in quite a different place to where I

began. It is very tiring. Two hours is like a 12 hour

shift, because I'm using all my juices. I have toyed with

the idea of writing Tears for A Butcher, in fact the 1st

chapter is down on paper and in cyberspace. But I don't

want to commit myself to a year of writing, If I sold

some of my other stuff then, or if I had a fan base, then

yes. But for the moment no, so I am content to be a

windmill in my mind, and yes it really is my favourite

song.

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48. Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting

Marrying a Shanghai girl brought many changes to my life.

The sound of chickens clucking for one, Chinese really

does sound like chickens in a hen house, if you listen to

the wife talk to her friends over the Internet or on the

phone or when a few are around the house.Chickens,

chickens,chickens. The Mandarin for it is "quock quock

quar" or something like that. Just ask ask your own

Chinese friends and they will agree. They'll also tell

you that Panzi my own Chinese nickname means FAT FAT BOY,

not a fat boy, but FAT FAT BOY. I finally get married and

have a family and I get called Panzi. Weighing 3 times as

much as the wife or mother in law, has nothing to do with

it, honest I'm a priest you can believe me.

Films brought us together and we still enjoy watching

films on tv. If I could afford Sky Films I'd love to have

it, and a Sky+ HD box. Our Sky+ box is always filled

with films for all the family, Over the Hedge, Bride and

Prejudice and all manner of stuff. Occasionally we have

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to cull the films to make room for more. Sky+ really is a

godsend for any family. I was just watching Kung Fu

Hussle which had Steven Chow in it. It really was great

fun. Lots of Kung Fu action and lots of fun , and I do

mean fun. It was in Chinese with the bottom of the screen

cut off for the sub titles. I was really laughing, it was

on Film4. Chinese Kung Fu films are like ballet and yes

beyond belief but great great fun. If you don't normally

watch subtitled films then please take a chance on my

review skills. Do watch and laugh along. I won't tell you

anything else about it I don't want to spoil it.

Previously there was another film on the tv, it was

called Red Flowers, again in Chinese with subtitles. This

was about a nursery and how a child was dumped there, it

had no Kung Fu in it, but it was really charming. How

they got all the small children to act in it I'll never

know but it was well worth a watch. I was asking my kids

just how much Mandarin they each understood, one was busy

reading the subtitles while the other seemed to

understand a great deal of it. Having 2 languages I hope

will pay dividends for my kids. In the future they can

bring Crunchies and Dr Pepper to me when I'm retired,

they should be able to afford them if them keep their

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language skills up. Their heart they get from me and

their beauty from my wife.

I'll leave it there for tonight.

49. What is Prayer ? What is Love? ©

By

Michael Casey

What is Faith? We are told in one Bible passage that if a

man can do many things yet there is no Love then man has

achieved nothing. I remember this being read at grammar

school at the morning assembly. . Sorry if I cannot quote

it verbatim. I'd come home from work and my dad would be

sitting down in the living room his dinner on a chair so

he could watch the news ,he'd have the first bite raised

to his mouth. I'm not hungry he'd say and offer me his

dinner. This is love. Another time, another shift

pattern. I'd come home at 11p. Dad would wait up to see

me before he'd go to bed, he'd be up at 5am for his work

the next morning. This is the standard I'm used to, I'll

do the same for my own children. Its normal, it’s

obvious. To me anyway. My mother used to watch Dallas on

tv after she'd fed all her children, one hand in her

apron as she watched tv. Only the hand always jumped in

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her pocket, she was saying the rosary while she watched

tv. Very Irish, very motherly. Very normal, the standard I

got used to. Countless mothers the world over do the

same. They may be Christians, they may be of a multitude

of different Faiths, yet one thing in common. Love, love

of God, love of family, love of children . And do we

thank our parents for this love? If we didn't and now our

parents our gone, then do we live with regret all our

lives . No, this would be folly. We can thank our parents

and our God by being good parents, by trying to copy the

good example shown to us . I met my wife in the

retirement home where my dad lived after his near fatal

heart attack, which happened 8 bare weeks after my mother

died in her sleep. My dad lived long enough for me to

meet/marry and have a granddaughter. As I gaze on my

daughter's face I often say "thank you". Thank You to God

for allowing me a wife and for having a daughter. An

extremely beautiful daughter, healthy and funny. I have to

show the moon to my daughter because she thinks its so

pretty, she loves stars too , not yet 22months old and

she knows the wonder of creation . As I look upwards and

see the cold beauty of space I know how lucky I am. I

know how lucky I am. Lucky enough to cry, which I do on

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occasions. My tears are my humble thanks and praise of

God. I have a family. July 96, mom was gone 2 months, and

dad was now given 1 week to live. So after 3years of

constant visits to the seniors home I met my wife, my

Shanghai China. So yes I cry in the dark of the night as

I look up at the stars . I am a lucky man, because I had

good parents, I know I did . I hope everybody could be as

lucky as me .....

well I hope this reads ok , I couldn't think of any

poetry , I just hope telling it plain catches the spirit

, the spirit of love . One word, one look, one sigh, one

flicker of the eyes, each of these is a prayer, a deep

prayer . A prayer of hope, pray, hope and don't worry is

a motto I try to live by that’s all the advice I can give

michael

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50. Singing Songs

To sing is to doubly praise, Saint Cecilia said that. My

sister says it too on occasion. Singing makes us all

happy, it lightens the load, it helps pass the time, if

we are happy we'll whistle or hum or sing. Just ask any

workman, though workmen still like to whistle, or should

I say wolf whistle when they see a pretty girl. "Hello

Darling" rings out from high up an unfinished building,

followed by laughter when the girl turns around and the

girl is in fact a boy with a girlish haircut.

But I was talking about singing. My girls were singing "A

sailor went to sea, sea sea, to see what he could see see

see." so obviously I jointed in. My youngest was amazed

that I knew it, so I told them that that rhyme must be at

least 50 years old. So on they sang, doing the hand

clapping that accompanies it. It took me back, where have

all the years gone, I really hope I can last till 100

then I'd have more time with my girls and any

grandchildren or even on great great grandchild. But

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that's up to God, the girls Great Grandpa is alive and

kicking into his 90s, he's on his 3rd wife now having

worn out the 1st 2, Shanghai diet in a warm China may

explain it.

Grandma does sing Jesus songs with the girls over the

Internet from Shanghai, and my big daughter has just

joined the choir at Saint Hilda's down road from the

woods. Google tells me Hilda was very wise and lived a

monastic life. My daughter did an audition and was let

into the choir. They even pay a small stipend. My own

sister has been singing over 45 years, despite us telling

her to shut up. Me and my brothers were altar boys, none

of us getting any reward for this church work. Perhaps we

should have stopped being Catholics and moonlighted for

the Protestants. I was also a reader for 7 years, so I

can remember passages from the Bible, as well as hearing

them all my life these past 50 years.

Singing songs is very very touching, a song will touch

the heart and my sister is right, to sing is to doubly

praise. Songs at funerals which open the floodgate,

Angels by Robbie Williams is very popular now, it was

played at my cousin's funeral; songs at the last night of

the Proms which make you proud and happy. As I talk to

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you I listening to music, Hotel California from the

Eagles, 34 years ago that was out. I never guessed I'd

spend 3 years in an hotel. Hotels have music to kill the

deadness of an empty foyer/reception area, as do bars.

Songs that you can sing too give a place a good vibe. Gay

bars play lots of Abba I'm told, again because its great

happy music, it helps the fun on a cold Tuesday evening.

I'm listening to an old Elton John album now, Made in

England, its worth digging out, its from 1995. Classical

music and opera touch us too, even when we cannot

understand a word. Pavorotti, and that blind Italian

singer Andrei Bocelli, both can touch us. I remember in

1966 when the whole family went to Lourdes, we were

singing Ave Maria in the darkness, holding up our lighted

candles, perhaps 40,000 people singing in the dark. Now

that is really touching and uplifting. I suppose other

Faiths do things their way which are no doubt just as

powerful.

As you have all no doubt gathered through these blogs, I

do like my music, a pocket DAB is always close to me, in

fact after 5 years its a bit battered, so I have to save

up for a replacement. When you're happy and you know it

clap your hands, is a song we sing when we are kids, we

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are all so free. We sing when we are in the shower, we

sing when we are in love.

Song is the Spirit that cannot be broken, we sing to

babies in the crib, babies can hear before they are born,

its singing that creates love.

So sing, sing, sing. For we are alive

****************************************

Well I hope you all enjoyed this. It’s a 50 piece selection of my writing that I'll use to get a writing job.

 https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/

 is where my writing lives on a day to day basis.

You can also buy my 13 books on Amazon Kindle by just clicking on the link  and they only cost 2.99 USD a bargain

 https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC

Thank You
Michael Casey
p.s.Don't upload stuff in the middle of the night or you get typos galore, but at least it's always a good read.

Its nice to be back on the Internet

My screen seems bigger now that I'm back on the Internet, all I've done these past10 days is write and tidy up. I gained 20 gig on my PC, as I had loads of copies of stuff.
I've missed my newspapers too, so I'll be catching up with all of those. I may have won the Premium Bonds too, only I've lost my holder's number, its written down somewhere on a scrap of paper. If I can find it I can check online to see If I've won.  Otherwise I have to wait 3 weeks and then If I've won I get notification in the post. See, how exciting my life is.  But a quiet day without any pain is aways nice. Though  lying down does tend to bring out the pain monsters.

That's all, we look at another house tomorrow, but it'll probably be a no, any house where all the lights are on in the photos indicates that its a dark house, and we love light.

ok enough for now, tell everybody new material is coming so they can come back and read or better still buy my ebooks on amazon still only 2.99 each.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC

Putin and Trump visit a Hamburger Joint in Germany

Putin and Trump visit a Hamburger Joint in Germany ©

By

Michael Casey

Putin and Trump are in Germany, May has joined them with Mrs Merkle too. They are forming a band together and will tour all the Beer Gardens. Their first song will be Handshake a modern rock aria, with a Chorus of Grip My Hand Grip My Hand while I do a Hand Stand. Let us shake rattle and roll while the EU is on the Pole Danzing and Prancing the Night Away.

I would sing more but I have to cower on the floor as North Korea spits into the sky, I just don't know why. Why can't the dear leader come and be a K Pop fan he could always be a roadie and drive our van. May and Merkle in hot pants giving all they have got, Abba you are so old fashioned compared to Us Mazel tovs for that's the name of the band.

Putin is the drummer slapping down the and kicking the bass drums with his bare feet.

Trump is on electric guitar as he swings and chips and chips and swings making his guitar really sing, Hendrix would have died to be as good, old orange face really knows how to let it rip, as he prances about the stage, smiling as he plays. Nobody but nobody is as good as Trump on stage, that's why Putin has turned into Ginger Baker on the drums, he is livid with rage, but looking up Trump is his Jimmy Page.

May and Merkle are whipping the crowds into a frenzy in their hot panted duets, making everybody sweat. On dashes the dear leader in his Gangham Style pants wriggling his bum as if he has ants, he holds icecreams so the 4 some Mazel Tovs are refreshed. Then the dear leader pulls apart his own string vest and rubs ice cream all over his smooth chest.

Putin's dog comes on stage to lick the ice cream away and then Peace is restored if only for one more day.

***********

Well I hope World's Political Reporters like this.

I'm still hoping for a slot on the Radio anywhere to read my 1200 stories out, one a day repeated 6 times a day, just like laxative for the mind. Any Takers anywhere in the world?

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC 

Catch Up Reading 6th July 2017

here's what I've written while I was away from the Internet.

Monument to Headstone ©

By

Michael Casey

I saw The Monuments Men on Film 4 via Freeview yesterday, and I was pleased, I enjoyed the story and though at times it seemed a little lightweight it really got me thinking. So George Clooney you did well, even if you do look like an older version of me, or is it Huw Edwards?

The story in Monuments Men is based on true events. The Nazis were hoovering up Art and stealing it, then hiding it in old mines, in the future there would be a museum all planned by Hitler himself, so  the film told. What was so interesting was that by stealing Art, the Nazis were wiping out People’s very existence. There was a line in the film about if you take their Art away you steal and destroy their very soul. Think of Dash in Iraq right now, or Pol Pot in Cambodia, wiping the face of History, so only Evil remains. The Rape and Kill policy of conquest.

Another scene at the end of the film the Monuments Men found a drum of gold nuggets, only it was not gold nuggets, it was the gold filling of Jews who had been murdered. Such tremendous Evil.

Now whatever I say next is trivial and worthless compared to what we are all thinking about now, the Evil men sink to. But I’ll try because if we all sink into despair then Evil has won. We have to remember to laugh, to think of the silly things that may us all Human.

Like giving a leaving present of a four pack of toilet paper to somebody who always hid in the toilet instead of working. Or a pair of silver foil pants because he once set fire to his trousers while having a cigarette while sat on the toilet on a night shift. How we all laughed.

Silly remembrances make us human, like the time you set fire to a fart in the middle of the dark of the night while the building was being refurbished, all the colours of methane or whatever it is. Sadly it was 20 years before mobile phones were invented otherwise it would have been filmed and live streamed. This would be called a Modern Art Installation and maybe win a Turner  Prize, the Nazis would never have collected it and buried it down a mine. It would have been burnt just as Picasso and books were.

I’ve talked about either end of the spectrum to highlight, light and laughter compared to Evil. We all have our favourite possessions too, it may be a mint Pink Floyd album, it may be granddad’s old walking stick gathering dust in a corner, or a photo of dad riding a donkey at the beach, you had to really beg him before he got on the donkey. But now that photo is a really treasured possession. Think what would you save if the house was on fire, or a flood was coming. It’s at these moments that you may discover for the very first what Love really means. You love the memories, the love behind the items. What is your Rosebud item?

They say that when you die, or are electrocuted your whole life flashes before you. So what will be on your film reel, will it be great works of Art that you were able to buy because you were a success in your life? Or will will it be thousands of smiling faces, lit like lights when they see you? Or even if it is just one smiling face, your wife, your lover, or your children.

If when you life goes to black there are tears, real tears from millions or even just one person, then you have not wasted your time on this earth. This is your Monument, the tears shed on your tombstone, here lies Michael Casey the Birmingham Writer, he may have been a totally useless man, but his stories made me more human, and for that I thank him and I shed tears on his grave.

Chilling with my Daughter ©

By

Michael Casey

Well we are in between wifi providers so a dead calm has hit the Casey household. My big daughter is off for 2 months now until she goes to 6^th form college, so we have time to chat, especially with the wifi off. When mum returns its a tsunami of noise as she is surgically attached to her phone, and that was before her new job which involves connections galore. So me and big daughter have time to chill and chat, until a friend phones and she’s back in her room nattering away.

My only concern is the chair I sit in as I talk to you all, its just a formal black chair, it came flat-packed and I had to construct it a year ago. I was in mid-construct when my old school friend Dr P arrived in time to heckle from the settee as I allan keyed it together. It was in fact a  pair of chairs, and my friend enjoyed heckling, but I did once nearly kill him when we were in 1^st year grammar school together, approaching 50 years ago now. So he claims divine right to heckle or say anything he likes.

My daughter wanders down stairs wondering what’s to eat. That last sentence may make some of you Esol English students scratch your heads, wander and wonder, it least it’s not weather and whether. The joys of English, though I really did enjoy my time as an Esol English teacher. So my daughter opens the fridge and says there is nothing to eat. So I get up from my Lotus Position on the carpet, next to the coffee stain I recently made, and yes I’m being nagged to death about. I am a Yoga man or is it yoghurt, you’ll have to decide for yourselves.

Anyway I rise gracefully, like a 3 metric tonne elephant, and lumber to the fridge, using my trunk, sorry I mean hand I open the fridge. I rattle off 6 different menus, half of then egg based. French toast, scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, fried eggs with bacon and tomatoes, scrambled eggs with beans in, just remember to open the bathroom window later. Then there is porridge made with milk or water, with honey topping, 2 or three different cereals.

Finish your sister’s tin of tomato soup, with bread or toast to dunk into it. Bacon sandwich, ham sandwich. I open the cupboard opposite, with 3 different toppings, I inspect one at the very back of the cupboard, and decide that should be in the bin, not unless she wants a job at Porton Down, or is it Watership Down.

Yes dad, like I said, nothing to eat. What do you want I say. I don’t know comes the reply, but not that. And certainly not that she says pointing to the Porton Down sample before I finally put it in the bin.

I have a trick up my sleeve, its the freezer below, Birds Eye Chicken Nuggets, I bow and reveal the Chicken Nuggets, round of applause from all of you, I may be a Useless Husband but I am a great writer but most of all I am an even better dad, all be praised Birds Eye Chicken Nuggets.

I resume my Lotus position on top off the coffee stain on the carpet, I heard that heat and pressure could get the coffee stains out of our new carpet. So sitting in the Lotus position on top of it may just do the trick, or my bum may just smell of Kenco Rappor, but you have to try don’t you? The smoke alarm goes off my daughter has forgotten to watch her chicken nuggets, luckily they are not burnt. She reaches for the Heinz tomato ketchup, the one squirt solution to all students’ cooking experience.

Any slops I ask as she finishes, she hands me the plate as I sit in my Lotus position, only the plate slips between us. Disaster beckons, a tomato and chicken nugget stain to match the Kenko Rappor coffee stain. Though this you won’t believe, even if you believe the rest of this Tale, I have lightning fast reactions, do you want me to show you again? Ali and me have that in common, we are fast, very fast, though I probably am a shade heavier than Ali.

Do you think that I, Michael Casey the Birmingham Writer would allow food to go to waste? I may think clean carpets are important, but wasting food, that is an absolute NO NO. As the plate falls I hurl myself sideways, from my Lotus position, like an ice hockey goalie, like when the Czech beat Russia. I catch the plate and gather the remaining chicken nuggets into my body. The carpet is spared. And I have food for my belly.

I finish the chicken nuggets and follow it with a cup of tea, still in my Lotus position on the Kenco Rappor coffee stain. I stay in position for 3 hours, until I let rip a rasping fart, raising from my Lotus position to go to the bathroom all is revealed, the coffee stain has vanished.

Shakespeare and Me ©

By

Michael Casey

Well we continue with Freeview tv and wait for our Broadband too, so it was great to stumble over a programme on Shakespeare, while my kids hid in the next room and attacked our piano. And no they don’t play Chopsticks, even though they are 1/2 Shanghai Chinese, they are in fact both Grade One on piano, and my big daughter has her Deans Award for choral singing. Me I just sing along to the radio, luckily our neighbours are all deaf.

So now that John Nettles has finished talking about Will Shakespeare it gave me the idea about talking about Words. I can never invent as many new words as Will did, he’s had a 400 year head start after all, but I hope I can raise a few laughs by my use of words, or my cartoons made with words. Words give you a picture and can be very colourful, especially if events drive you to curse, so long as alls well that ends well as Will used to say.

I read recently, and no I don’t mean I learnt to read recently, as Will’s wordplay would say, that swearing denotes a higher level of intelligence. So Teamsters must be really highly educated, and rappers must be the most highly intelligent people of all. Discuss, or not discuss that is the question, whether a Blankety Blank is nobler that a Zippy Zap Dang and can you move or remove your Thang, or is it Thong?  

Will has given me a few thoughts now, we are connected you know his Ghost sleeps under my bed, I would never share a bed with a man, only Ghost or no Ghost. A women is acceptable but no men in my bed. So how about an all Pop Version of Shakespeare, though some may say Baz from Moulin Rouge has done it already. But Pray Forgive me and I offer my Humble Version of Will Shakespeare a la Pop plus.

Zoons says Snoop Dog as he lashes out with words, rhythms must be heard, no matter how absurd. Lionel Richie is all soft and sooth, he is dragged away and put in stocks, why does he wear those absurd golfing socks. Big bad Barry White strides onto the stage scattering all before him, he is the Man for all Seasons and many many more, nobody defy him or he’ll sing them to the floor. Lionel Richie sings once twice three times a lady, and he is dressed to play the female part just as they did in Shakespeare’s day.

50 Cent comes on all draped in Gold, he is giving Measure for Measure and much much more, his girls adorn the floor. Eminem climbs the ivy to the lady’s chamber, only she’s a lady, so Beyonce throws her chamber pot full of ale over his head, he can find another amour instead.

Stephen Fry wanders on stage, quoting Shakespeare, offering a pound of flesh, but 50 cent says he has 100s of pounds flesh, bowing to his ladies at his feet. Stephen Fry mutters something before breaking out into a break dance. Stephen Fry swivels on his head, like a Jester begging for his bread. The rappers applaud and throw coins at him, ok only 50 cents in total, but Stephen Fry will appear for any small amount, it all goes into his Barclay Bank account.

Lady Gaga appears in mist as Lady Macbeth, she may have been  born that way, but on the stage she knows her measure for measure. Tina Turner is a Shrew who’ll never be tamed, not by Lionel Richie nor 50 cents, but when Barry White hits those low notes, she’ll be HIS lady, his ever so sweet lady, and Lionel Richie can just watch dressed in his frock still in the stocks.

The ghost of Sinatra appears and sings My Way, what else, Shakespeare himself applauds from the wings, if only Sinatra was around when he had his Globe theatre, Andrew Lloyd Webber would not have bothered to be born. He would have been really useful with the thunder machine though. Elvis was due to appear too, but he had left the building before the audience arrived. Time and Tide waits for no man after all.

One Direction and the Jonas Brothers fight it out for Juliet’s affections

Fighting with Ballads as the audience goes to the bar unimpressed, Will Shakespeare’s Globe had the very first Stella Artois after all. And on it goes, till Meatloaf and Alice Cooper descend to the stage dressed as angels and say the final words, Sleep Well Dear Audience, and if things go bump in the night it may just be somebody sneaking into Michael Casey’s bed for the night. The Ghost of Shakespeare or the Lady Macbeth herself.

Tidying Up ©

By

Michael Casey

Now this is not be confused with Tidying Yourself Up which is a piece I wrote a month ago. Today’s Tidying Up concerns tidying your place, or Palace up, if you are rich, or have limited English. I came to this idea as the girls where tidying up the dry washing they’d just brought in from our washing line, ready to be replaced, or is it repalaced with another load from our over eager washing machine. The door is so big we thought it was made from a left over docking station from the Space Station, open the door and astronaut Tim appears, with freshly washed knickers around his head.

Why do we tidy up? To be able to find things, order makes things easier and faster after all. Do you have your clothes or school uniform or office clothes ready? I know I’m ready and everything is to hand. It has to be or my wife will just throw it out, or send it to the charity shop. That’s her view on my clothing, or tents, as I’m so large compared to her, maybe 3 times the size. So I have to keep things tidy or they get thrown away into the ever open mouth of our dustbig or sack for charity shop.

As for our girls, one is tidy, the other is not, but a shout of “Wifi Off” soon brings a tornado of tidying, if you excuse my fake alliteration. Though this past week that would not work as we are changing our Broadband and TV package. However normally the threat of loss of broadband does work wonders.

When you tidy up you have more space, even on the coffee table, we’re not posh, our coffee is the table we eat from, just like in Japanese restaurants, as you know Shanghai is so close to Japan they are like cousins. And the wife is a Shanghai girl. Packaging can also be tidied up, so our recycle bin is well used too, if you stopped and looked at the amount of rubbish that can be recycled just by the average family of 4 you would be amazed. So give it a try. Though I pity the recycle workers who have to deal with in all.

When you tidy up in general you may come across things you have long forgotten, that’s where you left those stockings as suspenders, and no not the wife’s to spice up your sex life. But the ones you, yes you the bloke of the house wore to a stag do.I have to confess that I did dress up in stockings and a woman’s dress once, but it was a fancy dress party. And for some reason all the girls at the party wanted to kiss me. Katy Perry had not been invented then, I kissed a girl and I liked it and so on, though it was a rugby player sized man in drag, in his mother’s clothes in fact. Don’t mock me, you just try it and see what it does for you. But I’ve digressed as usual, or trans-dressed might be more accurate.

You may discover old school reports, and those can be a source of amusement and amazement. I found an old school report from 2^nd year of Grammar school, I got over 80% in Chemistry. Then I dropped it, my daughter was impressed, my wife has a Chemistry degree after all, but to discover dad knew his periodic table and not just his times tables really impressed her. Luckily I hid the photos of me in drag down the back of the sofa or they would have been loaded up to cyberspace forever.

Old clothes can be found at the back of the wardrobe, Tee shirts and the like, though in our house my small daughter is forever stealing my old tops to turn them into bags and all manner of craft things. The moths never get a look in, besides Totoro our cat is a moth hunter, so no need of that disgusting stuff that grannie sent from Shanghai which is supposed to kill moths in your wardrobe. Totoro the moth hunter, a wife that throws away plus a craft centric small daughter makes an unholy trinity that keeps my clothes in order.

Photos are also discovered and my small daughter will spend hours laughing at them. I have not changed I’m told, if you saw the first photo of me and the wife from 20 years or so ago, and one from today you’ll say I haven’t changed. That’s because FAT PEOPLE DON’T HAVE WRINKLES, as my children kindly remind me in chorus. So I’m 20 in my head, but 58 on my birth certificate, though on bad days my body in pain feels 95, and I’m ready to ring for the Undertaker myself. Some days I walk like an Olympian other days I’m limping along, but look at my face I look 40 something, provided I’ve had the 3Ss, S__T, Shower and Shave. And I’m viewed in a good light from a far angle.

What else can you find, shoelaces and cello-tape, odd socks and a ton of gloves and scarves. You kept them all as they are so cute, but not the Charity Shop beckons. Never throw anything away, somebody out there may need your caste-offs. Especially with kids clothes as they are never worn out as kids grow so fast. If you haven’t got the energy to take them to the Charity Shop, and I know all about dipping energy levels, what with my illnesses, then display them on your front garden wall.

Instant Charity Shop on your own garden wall. Stand guard and drag people off the street and make them take your girls’ old clothes away. If you cannot get rid of everything then there is the 90 year old Bulgarian woman who pushes the child’s pram as she collects scrap metal. She will take anything. My wife was going to leave me on the pavement but the Bulgarian did not take me away as the wheels on the pram would not take the 110kilos plus of my weight.

And on it goes, more space in your wardrobes and in your nooks and crannies, ready for stuff sent by grannie in Shanghai, though sometimes you wish she did not try. However your Prom dress was the star of the show and if only they knew it cost 1/10 as  much as everybody else’s. Well I’ll finish now,and no I won’t wear my daughter’s Prom dress to the next fancy dress party I attend, the colours don’t match the colour of my eyes, otherwise, otherwise…   

 Tapping the Plaster ©

By

Michael Casey

Tapping the Plaster, no I’m not referring to a doctor taking off the plaster from your broken leg. John G broke his twice in fact, he’s in New Zealand now, he met his wife in Scandinavia I think at a railway station, a romantic brief encounter. They were to go to Paris for a honeymoon only her visas etc would not allow it so they went to Edinburgh instead. John G is a very kind man and I owe him a great deal, so You’ll have to forgive me if he becomes the Prologue, he doesn’t look anything like Frankie Howerd either. Mind you that was over 20 years ago so he may have changed.

But what of tapping the plaster? Well I’m not talking about sticking plaster either, what I am talking about is when you buy a house you go around tapping the walls, if you get a different sound that’ll indicate that the plaster beneath is loose and may all slide off leaving a hole. So beware of fresh decorations and paint, as it can hide a multitude of sins, as can freshly painted exterior walls and new cheap carpet. People buy new cheap carpet to uplift a property before they sell it.

A recent property we looked at was so sweet on the website and even a quick exterior look was better than the photo. However on opening the front door it banged into the electricity mains cable, the entire house was freshly carpeted, in a dark horrid carpet upstairs and downstairs. Cheap and not cheerful, a socket in the kitchen was hanging off the wall. I could go on but I won’t. So immediately I would never buy that property, I knew in 5 seconds it was both dangerous and ugly. On the specs it looked big, but specs and reality are a very different thing.

If I refer back to John G for example you may overlook him because he was soft spoken and small. Or you may look at me and think I’m a Sumo on vacation in Birmingham. You have to tap the plaster to find out what people are really like, don’t just look and say he’s just a big sack of whatever, in my case. Or he is an apprentice Hobbit, he does live in New Zealand now after all. He’ll probably give me a slap if ever our paths cross again.

If you bother to get past first impressions and tap the plaster a bit, or a lot if we are referring back to John G and his 2 broken legs, only joking John, he probably has All Black friends by now. If you investigate a little, over a pint or a coffee then you’ll reveal more of the person behind the plaster. I always thought you were a stuck up bastard, and now I know you are not stuck up, even if you are a bastard, fancy your mum falling for that line, she should have tapped the plaster first.

That’s the great thing about working in a hotel, you really do tap the plaster, you met so many different people, the guests, and the staff. As I did 10 roles on a regular daily daily basis I got to see how the whole hotel worked. If you spent time with Vicky cleaning rooms and then doing the security role on walkabout all over the hotel then you’d experience more than if you just stood all day in the foyer. Working with most branches of the hotel staff gives you a great overview of the hotel and the staff. And obviously the guests are great fun too.

I never thought I’d be writing about it 15 years later, some just thought I was the fat guy popping up like a magician’s rabbit all over the place. And at the time I was too busy working to philosophise about it, working 12 hour shifts and then 2 hours travelling on top, but having one then 2 toddlers makes you work really hard. Standing all day too, maybe that’s why I had great veins ready for my unplanned quadruple heart bypass a decade later. Life is a circle after all.

As you can imagine I talk a lot, either to people when I get the chance, or hurling insults as the radio and tv news. But I do enjoy tapping the plaster with people I bump into, if you bother to talk to that little old lady in the street or at the bus stop you can discover a whole world that you’d miss otherwise. Conversation is a dying art as people talk on Facebook without actually talking, everybody just reacts or Twitters this or tweets that which can be totally superficial, just like the specs of the house I first spoke about.

Thinking, talking, writing does require a bit more effort than an instant Tweet, you can get reaction in a dead frog by adding electricity, but the frog is still dead. So tap that plaster, have a conversation, go out for a drink, or buy some cheap teabags and invite somebody in, or give a passing policeman a cuppa over the garden wall. Otherwise all you have is a dead plastered wall with all life hidden beneath.   

Missing Broadband ©

By

Michael Casey

Well we are still waiting for our new broadband to arrive, the phone switch was painless but the actual Broadband part of it has not arrived yet. My girls went down the library to use their Wifi, only to discover that the actual broadband could take at least 10 days to arrive. They interrogated Google to find out when their lifeblood would arrive, and girls wanting Broadband can be very very nasty, Google hobbled away tears streaming down his face. But at least he now knew never to upset the Casey girls, or my big daughter knew exactly how to hurt him, she did take not one but 2 Maths exams simultaneously. So Google put that in your pipe and smoke it, or my big daughter aided and abetted by her little sister would ask you to compute MC=4C, and that only had one answer that not even Dr Who would be able to find.

Which brings me to what exactly have I been doing while the wait is on. As I’ve said in another piece its all so quiet in the Casey household, but what about me the Master of the house. By the Master I don’t mean Missy the nemesis of Dr Who, though I’d kill to be able to wear her clothes, the Evil Marry Poppins look, but I digress comme d’habitude. So what exactly have I, the Master, ok the ignored dad, being doing?

Well I’ve been tidying up the files on the computer, a decade of stuff, and versions of stuff and copies of stuff, and a bit of this and a bit of that. I have gained 20gig, yes 20 gig of space, which is more that some of the new flipperty giberbert, fancy bendy over contortionist laptop, hand held computer thingys have. As its all in the Cloud, where hackers can steal all your embarrassing photos and sell them to the Sunday Newspapers.

Nobody has ever taken such photos of me, if ever I become a famous writer or radio star, then women will flock to me, just to take photos to blackmail me. But this is doomed to failure, not because I would not be tempted, but because there is not a wide angle camera invented with a lens good enough to take snaps of my fat hairy arse.

But I’ve digress, put that picture or non picture out of your mind, go have a stiff drink then return to my page. Shall I continue, I will then, I’ve had the last the Pepsi from the fridge, now where was I? Yes, what have I been up to? Apart from tidying up my words, my babies, I have pruned my files so there is more space on my computer, an old fashioned desktop PC, though I have a large screen.At my age I need to see things, if ever I make money I’d buy a large screen Apple thingy. I also did the usual 10 off site securities to media. Remember I was a computer operator for decades so backups are my bread and butter, and my stories are much more important to me than mere work files.

As for my Internet habits, what do I miss. I miss my Daily Telegraph, though as I don’t have a subscription I cannot read all the stuff. If they want to donate a subscription to me that would be nice. At the moment it’s a bit like being in a strip club and the stripper removes her gloves and high heels and slips off her evening dress. Then NOTHING, because The Daily Telegraph paywall kicks in. I want to see what Tim Stanley has to offer or Michael the Deacon, and all the other stuff. So aroused but disappointed I have to flick to the Guardian then The Daily Mail, or I would usually only my Broadband has gone AWOL, well for 10 days at least. I could kick Google in its Al Gore, or some other Politician. Only I cannot, not unless I go down the road to the Library.

So gently simmering in my own juices, and I’ve never been much of a cook, apart from beans on toast with 3 free range eggs mixed in. It’s good for your heart, your heart I said are you as deaf as a fart? I miss my morning Press review. I watch the evening version on tv, and I do watch Sky and BBC Press previews on the computer while the family is watching tv. So not having my broadband means I’m suffering withdrawl symptoms, No Norman Smith or Laura and her gold coloured chav bag, no Sky human interest angle on events. I cannot mix and match my habits, my media habits as I pass my day writing stories and having a think, in-between my many visits to the toilet, Ckd does that to you, its not just being a journalist.

Though I have an idea for a story, it’ll be in the finale of Tears for a Butcher, Where the story is just so big, so important that when the Sky reporter rings his editor he gets the best command ever in the life of any journalist. BUY THE PUB. Rupert is on a visitation to Sky Centre, Big Sid the butcher has been shot 3 times defending his friends, his life is in the balance. If he lives he’ll get the George Medal. So the reporters are all gathered outside Dudley Road Hospital, in the bar of the Windmill Pub, they are going to be thrown out as its Closing Time. Its then that Rupert with ink in his veins says into the ear of the Editor. BUY THE PUB. NUJ membership allows entry into the bar, immediately a private members club.

Well I’ll leave that idea with you for now, I may or may not ever get around to writing Tears for a Butcher, If Rupert wants to donate a fast typing legal secretary I could finish that sequel in time for the Christmas market. Or a sober journalist would do, they are very fast typists after all. Though finding a non drinking journalist might be as hard as finding an honest politician.

Another of my habits is music, I have background music as I write, though at the moment I’ve had none as I talk to you today. Spotify is good, the Free version has a few adverts but it it worth a try. I’ve been listening to the Beatles Sergeant Pepper album recently, and singing along. Wednesday Morning is my favourite track at the moment. You can track down Michael Jackson’s History album too, that’s really good. I did have a copy of the album once but its disappeared from the house.

Broadband gives you a Window on the world, as Bill Gates will testify, we need to make sure it stays free of regulation that’ll allow totalitarian governments destroy it. Having said that Facebook and Google and the like should pay their fair share of taxes. 20% is fair, other companies pay, so should they,and none of this fiddling. Any big company can play the altruist card, and even run for President, and how can they afford to do all that? They are not paying their taxes by exploiting the very people they claim they want to lead and show a better path too. Pay your taxes, everybody else does, or are you using broadband as a tool to fool. Broadband is to educate, inform and entertain, and not to profane in all but name.

Signposts ©

By

Michael Casey

It’s a hot sunny day here in Birmingham, its 5^th July 2017, I mention the date as North Korea seems to be hotting up to its sad and awful inevitable conclusion. Not unless somebody somewhere is saying the Rosary, which is Mary’s very own nuclear weapon of Love. Or the dear leader gets shot in the back or dies of a heart attack while eating his favourite French cheese. Only History will tell. I mention all this as I was thinking what should I choose to write about today. Our neighbour crossed the road with his 1/2 Japanese son and his guitar case in hand, so I thought about Crossings and roads and then Signposts.

So what is a signpost? I ask as a cyclist races past on his bike, all shiny in the afternoon sun. In a hurry to get home no doubt, I just hope he read the signpost of he’s in for a shock. Lorry’s forget to read signposts and then they get stuck under low bridges, or damage them entirely. Clever firemen just hum and deflate his massive tyres so he can squeeze his 18 wheeler out of the gap beneath where he should not have gone. If only he had read the signpost, then he would not have been stuck and the firemen could have had their dinner on time. I just hope they remembered to switch the gas off before they came out to rescue the lorry driver. For any USA readers I should perhaps explain that a Lorry is the English work for Truck.

By hurrying and not following or reading the signposts you do get in a pickle if I can use another old English phrase. So reading or noticing signposts IS very important. However Life is not like that, a Signpost does not appear advising you what to do or what not to do. Ask her out, she likes you, and you miss your chance because you are shy. Yes blokes can be shy too. Years later you discover she never married, and you would have made a great couple. But there was no signpost in the sky to advise you. The reverse is true too, so you marry a bad one, and are lumbered with 3 kids before the bastard pisses off, if only you had listened to your brothers. Who will now lynch him if ever they see him again, but he is in Malaga selling Time Shares.

Are signposts only visible after the event, like rumbling farts after the event, leaving smell and wisdom, afterwards as you come down with food poisoning? Never have the last egg sandwich from the sandwich shop where it has been festering for hours in the front of the glass sandwich box. I did 10 years ago and I lost half a stone, or 4kilos in a week. I also discovered a signpost, that my then employer were bastards, ringing me up every day to see when I was coming back to work.

This IS bad employment practice, it is little wonder that I decided to leave them, as did many staff, they had a major staff turnover problem. So the food poisoning was both signpost and a crossing of the Rubicon as far as I was concerned. I can also remember the unkind words uttered by somebody who should have know better, or just made sure they were out of earshot. I did meet a couple of great people, my fellow workers, their kindnesses I remember to this day.

We don’t have to be like the Buddha to rise above the fray and look down on ourselves, but having an Interior Life of any sort will help and guide you. Failing that 17 pints of Stella Artois and sex in the cellar with the local barmaid does help to relax you and put everything in perspective. Life is about going with the flow after all.

Some people are lucky and one thing leads to another, and no I’m not talking about sex in the cellar after or during your 17 pints of Stella Artois, or was Stella just her name, I cannot remember. There are these beautiful lucky people who have it all. But really they have nothing, I’d rather have Jim from CPNEC on that desert island when your plane crashes, or anybody practical or inventive. They will help you and guide you when all the signposts are broken.

A signpost can lead you this way or that, but its the people you meet along the way that make the difference. John G was one person I mentioned in a previous piece, he warned me to relax so I did. I ended up in the Czech Republic stopping with a gay Doctor, and then meeting a former fashion model who came to my house for a month to learn English. Its all in the Czech story its in one of my books somewhere.

Barry and Miss Dangly were also signposts and friends of great import in my life, I cannot mention all the people who helped and indirectly guided me to better things. But as I look back 20 years those two really were my daily bread, Julie was Miss Dangly’s Christian name, she was wise beyond her years. We had so many laughs, and a fair few tears.

So what should I say to help and advise you all? There is no help and advice I can give. You may not see the Signposts in your life, but if you slow down a little you may avoid getting stuck under any low bridges. Apart from Stella in the cellar, so perhaps you should avoid alcohol, that’s for you to decide. If something feels right then do it, Stella in the cellar included, just enjoy it as much as the 17 pints. Don’t feel guilty about anything, not unless you are an old style Catholic.

So long as you do everything in good faith then you will sleep well, and wake up with a clear conscience, though the concept of conscience seems not to exist much in today’s world. Don’t be a writer, aloof and just watching, not part of life. Life is an ocean so just dive in and enjoy the swim. No swimming trunks required.       

Style, or the Way I Write ©

By

Michael Casey

Frank Carson the Comedian used to say, you’ve heard them all before, but it’s the way I tell them. Roger our driver was in tears and nearly crashed the van taking Frank back to the airport, because Frank really was that funny. I’ll never be like Frank, I don’t wear glasses for a start and my best fake Northern Irish accent is laughable. But I do have something in common with Frank, a certain style. No not in Fashion but in the Way I tell Them, or rather write them.

You can write in a variety of styles, just as you speak differently to different members of your family. You won’t cheek your mum or she’s give you a slap in the puss, and if she’s been cleaning the floor then she may just slap you with the mop bucket, and throw the dirty water over you too. It never happened but you were wise enough not to vex her. You speak differently to your kids and to your cat Totoro too. I my case I never treated my girls as children I just talked to them straight, the cat I talk to as if she is a child, thought in cat years she is a teenager. So Totoro must be thinking why am I treating her like a child as she slips in or out of a window at 3am, ready for fun.

The way I’ve written so far could be called my Style, it’s come about after first 20 years of listening to BBC Radio 4, which is speech radio, quality PSB if you are an American reader. Then my 30 years writing on top, so that’s 50 years of loving words. Which only happened because of a Signpost in my life when I was scared of a teacher so I hid in books. One thing does lead to another. What you are reading could now be called my natural style, as opposed to my Gangham Style or another style I may adopt as the urge takes me.

Sarcasm or Parody or just simple exaggeration can be used to make a point. Such as the Leader has had his office extended in order to fit his ego in, or to fit in a bigger desk, so he can have sex with 2 interns simultaneously while he is on the job, or to fit more maps on so he can see which country he’ll invade next. And on it goes.

The point of a joke is to make a point, and you can repeat the same joke to get another laugh in. However I’d say after 3 times you need to have a new joke, otherwise it’s just boring. Not unless you are a great comedian delivering those line, discuss. We have a comic writer and performer in UK whose material is good, however the delivery is not so good, the timing is out be a second, in my opinion. Which goes back to Frank Carson, it really is the way you tell them that matters.

As a writer by putting a comma in I hope this means that when you read it you get the timing right and its funny, or it amuses you. If my punctuation is bad then its not as funny. Though do people read punctuation? I try and break my stuff down into short paragraphs so the reader and the eye gets a rest. If its a sea of ink then people can be put off, especially if the reader does not have English as a first language. Ellen Palin the NY poet, I hope I spelt her name right, she once said I should keep it punchy, then she split my lip for upsetting her, ONLY JOKING ELLEN.

So by use of style you keep the reader interested and not longing for the end of the sentence or paragraph, or bathroom as any fellow Ckd sufferer knows from experience. You’ll have noticed that the last couple of paragraphs were serious in tone, but I punctuate them with a laugh to make the reading more fun, or bearable if you hate my writing. Wait for the joke could be the nature of my writing, just keep on reading then they’ll be a custard pie moment, though I hope I don’t telegraph my humour too much, as American comedies do, discuss.

Having said all that I don’t write to be read, and yes I can hear the cards amongst you saying, too bloody right he should be burnt not read, so thank you Nazis and KKK for your appreciation. Though Nazis with KKK could be something on the menu in some Chicken Diner somewhere, in the Deep South, south of Hell or Hades if I’m being posh. No where was I, yes I just put my dinner on, I’m having Chicken what else.

I write to be heard, by your ears, so its a Storyteller that you are reading on the computer in front of you. Get your girl to read this to you while you are in bed, consider my writing to be a form of foreplay, when she gets to the end then…

Stop, I haven’t finished, get out of bed and put your clothes back on, my words should be respected. No, my words should be enjoyed like a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate, then once finished you can get on with your life, or just go back to bed with your girl. What I want is just a couple of minutes of your time, before you couple. See the obvious use of words to convey different meanings, but you are smiling now, or one of you is dead. That’s all I want to do with my words, to make you smile, to give you a bit of relief in your hard and fast days.

I also try never to be explicit, naughty maybe but always nice, its all in your mind, not mine. Its like Panto and Ken Dodd, a joke for the kids and a joke for the mums and dads, and on and on spiralling into infinity, until we all get dizzy and throw up all over the cat. And why are there always carrots in puke, even when you never eat vegetables?

I hope I’ve given you an inkling into my words, and if you have an inkling I’d suggest you go and visit your doctor before it becomes a rash. Words are Weapons of Laughter, I hope I can get my 1,100,000 words read on the radio, any station, any time, any place anywhere all over the world in any language. Even if my own voice is not good enough to be used, but the Words are, that I am certain of. So what word can I finish with to impress my readers all over the word. It really should not be a world but a sound as I write for Ears, so my final word is, listen, FART.     

  

  

    

  

Hello UAE and any other new readers out there 6/july/17

Well I'm back from my internet holiday, so I hoped you missed me. I've written 5 or 6 new stories while I was away so I hope you like them, I'll post them in an hour or so.

Well the world has turned these past 10 days. So I hope all of us everywhere can pray that it does not end in a blinding flash.

If you are the Prince in UAE who has been reading my stuff then hello to you. But I bet the only guy reading my stuff in UAE is a cleaner on the night shift in some fancy hotel.

So tell all your friends normal service will be resumed and 

I'll be annoying you all again with my writing.

Nobody has offered me any Radio or Publishing deals, but after some  of the nights of pain I've had due to my arthritis I'll settle for  NO PAIN.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC