Reading Books

 

Saturday, 20 March 2021

Reading Books

 

Reading Books ©

By Michael Casey

 

Ok, I’m full of snot and I should be lying down, but instead I’ll do a bit of writing like a clown. I just spotted the Russians are Coming, as the highest one day figure appeared. I did actually have dream and sat bolt upright in bed, and said “the Russians are Coming” then I went back to sleep, this was maybe 50 years ago when 3 or 4 of us brothers shared the same bedroom in the old family house. I mentioned the Russian search engine yesterday and I did email them, I’m shameless I’ll try and “Corrupt” anybody with my writing. I hope Google don’t get the hump, or my viewing figures might slump, just like my belly.

 

Though the Russians may not like two of my stories, The Spaceman and the Archangel story, though I think it’s great. Then the other story they might not like is I’m setting up a Band, where Putin, Trump, The Pope and The British PM become an Abba Tribute band. Apart from those two I hope the Russians love Stories too, wasn’t that a Sting or Billy Joel song. 2000 stories, perfect for cartoons and learning English with the son of a Kerry Blacksmith, that’s me.

 

Now that’s just the preamble, while I scramble my eggs. And rubbish rhythms are just a joke, while I stir the yolks. Reads like Lemony Snicket, and does he play cricket, Theresa  May or may not, she’s in the band, as she was the PM  when I wrote the story, but she’s still a Tory. Ok, I’ll cut the doggerel, or you’ll drown me at sea, Fisher, and do Germans bite, too much radio4 when I grew up, 20 years of that, before I took to the pen, and if I were a sheep you’d dip me in sheep dip, and leave me or corralled, I’m high enough already, just with Imagination. Then 33 years or writing, to make you all cross. 53 years in all, and I look so good looking, ok, shut it , frankly just shut it. Larry close that door there’s a draft right up my Spaghetti Junction. Now the past few sentences were for the pseuds-clever, who clog up radio4, so nobody else gets a chance, I am a Podcast now you know https://open.spotify.com/show/1wSSIExkhsR97u1jqj0iiR

 

Now where was I, just going around in circles, and they say you should have a circle in stories, I suppose it’s better than being far fetch like s))* from China. Which was an expression of my mother’s gone almost 25 years now, what it means is Beyond Belief, like me marrying a Shanghai girl. That kind of unbelievable, nothing bad about China, I don’t want 1,400,000 angry emails in my Junk mail, no pun intended. Chinese’s people might say “he’s from Birmingham” just as John Cleese used to say “ he’s from Barcelona” ok, enough said. By the way did I tell you , one of my brothers went to the same Cambridge college and John Cleese, where Michael was Winner, but nobody has filmed anything of mine yet. Maybe the Russians will be coming to film all 2000 of mine, who knows, just putin  a good word for me.

 

Now, what did I read when I was younger, well Fear is the Key by Alistair MacLean, is why I read. I was afraid of Mr Gallagher so I started reading to avoid his wrath, and that changed my life in the mid 1960s. I did read everything Alistair MacLean wrote too, staying up till 2am to finish one off, freezing in the downstairs living room before going to bed, central heating ws unheard of then. I read all the History on the bookshelf by my desk in classroom of Class One at primary school. For a time I was left to read alone at a big desk downstairs because I was so far ahead of the class, and no not social isolation. The Outline of History by H.G. Wells was one of the books I read. I still have it, I was given it as a leaving present from Primary School, and yes I really was Head Boy, or locker-upper to make sure nobody did damage in dinner times.

 

So all in all I read by the yard for a decade or two, then radio4 with plays and clever people speaking nicely, before Reginal accents were introduced, instead of BBC English. That’s probably why I speak the way I do, but I did have a Kerry mother whose strong accent we only noticed on the phone, when we eventually got a phone. As for dad he worked in The District Iron and Steel Brasshouse Lane Smethwick, in the heat of hell for 40 years, with Welshmen, so some though dad was Welsh, though he too was a Kerryman, Hello Dear How Are You, was what he used to say. Which proves how we all acquire our accents, over in the corner my small daughter is doing her French A Level homework, so that is full of accents too, or is it three.

 

So, on it goes reading, reading, reading, and when you get bigger it’s newspapers, so somebody introduced me to the Telegraph, then I started reading online newspapers too. The Guardian to balance the Telegraph and now a bit of Daily Mail too, though stars flashing their bits is boring, and I’d demand a double page spread, though a good double mattress would be more useful. Words are stories and they lead us everywhere, especially up the garden path, where Gill with a G is waiting to remind you Michael is Awful, but I do like him

.

 

The Sky is the Limit

 

The Sky is the Limit ©

By Michael Casey

Well, I’m listening to Sky, yes clouds make lots of rain, especially when it’s thundering. Or if you are as old as me, John Williams et al. So, what shall I talk about today? I haven’t decided yet, but Totoro the cat sneaked in, I keep her out of this room, “the study” as I want a refuge and a nice place, that no cat paws can reach. We’ve managed to stop her from clawing the living room sofas, but the kitchen chairs have claw marks galore, even though we invested in a cat scratcher by food bowl. But cats don’t care, do you think I’m a dog? I’m a cat and I’ll scratch that, and if you put me out I’ll Leap a Fence and pretend I live with the neighbours here there and everywhere, then I’ll come home when it’s time for bed. Just for the bedtime bowl of milk. I’m not a stupid dog, I’m Totoro the Ninja cat. It’s her 6^th Birthday soon, I said the girls could have a pet, a dog if I died or a cat if I had a heart attack. Weeks after that joke, the joke was on me an unplanned quadruple heart bypass. So be careful what you say, of you’ll end up with a cat scratching your furniture. But I digress.

 

So, I’m talking about pets then? No, but cats do grab your attention, even if it is by clawing at your bedroom door to be let out at 5am. Or setting off the motion sensor lights at 2am, then refusing to come in, because there’s something she can spy from up on high on the garden fence. So, as you shiver with the back door open for her, she just shows you her backside and continues stalking whatever was over the fence, as she wears a fur coat.

 

I just went to the kitchen for another hit drink and Totoro is outside the door giving me her big eyes, wanting to come in. Like a guard dog, but positioned next to the radiator, she is a cat after all, and cat’s have heat sensors in them, they find the warmest place to go. We have 2 metre tall cupboards in the kitchen, but to the cat it’s a challenge, a small Everest to climb, and besides hot air rises so she have a climb just because it’s there. Cats are nosey too and they always enjoy a view. A neighbour may build a high fence, but for a cat that’s just a challenge, so quicker than any Marine she’ll have a look and stand upright like a meerkat just to prove, any cat can look at any queen. And should you leave a door ajar, or a window open, then say hello pussy.

 

All in all cats love challenges, and they are company and make a house a home. Though my friends Lech, Boris and Gregorgi prefer wolf like dogs, because they can pull a sledge when Winter comes. Now is there a point to all of this? Man’s best friend is a dog, though I would have had to die before my girls got a dog. The point is this, The Sky is the Limit. Cats never give up, they look here and there and leap fences, they put their noses into everything like a Search Engine. Even yandex.ru can find me, and they have, so I wrote to them today to encourage them to share what they found. The Russian translation of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker and 2000 other stories for free until Russian Media get in on the act and share Lech, Boris and Gregorgi with the masses. Their offices ae near The Tolstoy museum, so I’d be in good company. In essence I’ve been a cat, sniffing around and climbing trees, checking back, or is it Checkoff and wasn’t he a Russian in Star Trek where the sky is the limit.

 

How do we best remember the Dead from Covid 19?

 

How do we best remember the Dead from Covid 19?

I just read a headline asking that question

My own simple answer

We celebrate living, and we can fund Educational Scholarships

So rather than just monuments and exhibitions

A Scholarship will be a seed that lives on

Just as all the millions of Covid 19 victims would have done

Johnny No Friends

 

Johnny No Friends ©

By Michael Casey

 

Peter had no friends, in fact he now was a stay at home person. Though everybody used to call him John or Johnny, because he was always in the toilet, rushing to it in fact. They even moved his desk to the corridor outside the toilet as a prank, so he thanked them and stayed there for 3 years. He did have relationships, but only with delivery drivers who dumped stuff by his desk. So he was a Concierge without actually being a concierge. But he was happy enough because he was near the toilet, he could dump like an Elephant, and smell just as bad. Bad diet and a touch of CKD does that to you.

 

As the years rolled by he knew more and more about the delivery drivers, as he had a giant thermos on his desk ready to dispense a warming drink. So by the end of the 3^rd year he had more Christmas cards than the entire offer, but luckily he was a dab hand with a Prit stick so he dabbed them and stuck them to the walls. It looked better than Santa’s Grotto or any church. Everybody took photos and a photographic magazine even awarded a prize. Johnny and his Cards the caption read in the magazine, with Johnny’s email below. Though nobody knew his name was Peter in reality.

 

Then Johhny’s bladder got so bad, he’d have to wear nappies or have a funnel and a tube from his desk to the toilet. So, Johnny spent his last penny and had to leave. The company were generous, he could have sued the arse off them for the 3 years in the corridor, the company secretary said, who was a bit leaky himself, so obviously he was on Peter’s side. So Johhny got a nice pension, and a framed digital photo of the Christmas Santa’s Grotto, and a very nice tablet which was waterproof so he could use it in the toilet, just as Trump does.

So now Johnny had no friends, but he still had his tablet, well several, as the doctors kept on trying this and that in an attempt to fix him, so he had bottles of tablets, as well as the digital tablet. Johnny got used to his new life, and he had friends on the Internet too, while he continued dashing to the loo. One day out of the blue he had an email from LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com

He was going to delete it in anger, but decided to answer. Lindy Loo was her real name, she was American in Kansas were the mail servers were, and she did have two red shoes which she clicked and she did like ballet too. Out spilled everything, she’d seen the Santa photo in a photographic magazine while she was at the dentists having her teeth fixed.

 

So Johhny No Friends had found one true friend, which is all you need, and yes she loved the Beatles too, she played them constantly on her Amazon Prime subscription. Now email is a lovely thing, it is a letter that can be read over and over again, you can print them off too and put them in a scrap book too. After a few months, Peter and she called him Peter too, it was so much better than being called Johnny, because he used always to be in the John, so Peter asked for a photo. So LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com sent him a photo, she was tall and big, with horrid teeth and the stereo typical black glasses that Koreans, or American born Koreans wear. But she did have hair to kill for. So obviously Peter fell in love with her instantaneously. Because he knew the real her, and she knew the knew him, so the feeling was mutual.

 

Though LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com  had lied, because she’d been hurt before, so sent a picture of her best friend from next door. So the friendship continued, and LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com decided she wanted to come and visit Peter in Old Forge and Singing Anvil, so a quaintly named place after all. So Peter said he knew somebody he ran an AirB&B so he could get her discount, it was  the bloke next door. Peter had wondered why he was always carrying large supplies of toilet paper, and did he have some disorder? But his neighbour laughed and said it was for his apartments. So Peter helped let in all the supplies when delivery drivers came, so he was offered discount if ever, if ever he needed an apartment. So that was that, and this was now.

 

LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com said that was great, as she licked her dinner plate, that was her one bad habit, licking her plate like Oliver Twist, as she read his email on her iPhone12. They’d know each other for 18 months now all told, and so they weren’t being bold. She’d fly in from Kansas and land at Birmingham BHX, and Peter would be there to greet her, old Michael the taxi driver would be ready and he’d drive steady. Now when LindyLoo555@gmailpooh.com arrived Michael was in for a surprize, for the girl that landed was not like the photo, in fact how could she be. It was her best friend from next door, the Kansas girl was no witch, though she did wear red shoes. Michael drove her to the apartment where Peter was waiting, he told Michael he must have picked up the wrong girl, but it was the right girl, the perfectly right girl. You see Lindy Loo looked like a Kpop star, but prettier if that is even possible. Peter was shocked but she knew everything about him, and asked was he disappointed, and she’d leave immediately if he felt she’s abused his friendship. You see she felt it best to see if he wanted her for who she really was, and in emails he saw her as she really was. Apart from the photo deception, you see a girl has to know that she’s wanted for herself, not just her looks.

 

Peter replied, it’s an ill wind that blows no good, and farted before dashing to the toilet. You see Lindy Loo’s dad was a Proctologist, so why should nature get in the way of friendship. She enjoyed a month visiting Old Forge and Singing Anvil, she also revealed she was actually a dentist. Peter felt ten feet tall, and Lindy Loo just knew, she’d break her broom, she’s never go back to Kansas. Besides her dad had worked out how to fix Peter, as he knew he’d be joining the Korean American family. A Break Wind family, was born, Lindy Loo always loved England, and now part of it in the shape of Peter would be all her very own. And yes they had four daughters and formed a Kpop band, you see Love is like the wind it knows no boundaries, and the Kpop band was called The Saint Patricks because that was the day they finally met.

 

Not Worth my Spit

 

Not Worth my Spit ©

By Michael Casey

 

Not Worth my Spit is a Chinese expression, it means it’s a waste of time talking to somebody, it’s not worth your spit. You may have had dodgy companies give you grief, and you go around in circles, a bit like Diplomatic dealings. Hey North Korea, Trump really was right, you’d make a great travel destination, so set your people free, and in one generation you’ll be Top of the Pops, and be singing happily. If Germany could rebuild after the Hitler nightmare, what can North Korea do? Even better and greater.

 

There are 5 of my books on my Wordpress in Korean, Kim, so have a laugh and read and then think, I want to live happily ever after, me and my people. I am worth your spit, so have a download and read happily. Now getting back to my theme, Not Worth my Spit. Kids bicker and say, he did this she did that, he should say sorry for scratching my Barbie dolls face, her behaviour is a disgrace. She should say sorry first, no he did the worse thing, his apology should be the first thing. So, mom, slaps both of them, a draw is declared, and all toys are locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Then they both hate mum, at last unity, mum is the worst, they can agree on that. So much for Diplomacy.

 

Circles of friends and circles of deceit, I’ll do this for you if you do that for me, so much for monkeys picking fleas off each other, a bit like Politics and Union deals. Where is Humanity, we leave that in Church on a Sunday, the rest of the week, we are weak Humanity, bargaining and cheating, and badmouthing each other, and for what? So, we can sell cheap copies of this and that and claim it’s worth 4 times it’s weight in Gold. And what about the Customers, they are there just there to be fooled, and abused, nobody is going to pay to send our rubbish back to us, to get a false refund. So, we gain more money but lose our soul, and as for integrity, we can buy some cheap online, it’s a new rave fake perfume our cousins sell. And on it goes.

 

Now is all this worth my spit, your spit, or anybody’s spit. No, not really, but if by reading this you are more cautious before you buy, then I’m worth your spit. But then again, if I’m not then you can spit on me.

 

What makes a good story

 What makes and good story? (c)

By

Michael Casey

 

Well actually, it’s the way it’s told. Ask Frank Carson the late great Northern Ireland comedian, who was so funny Roger nearly crashed the van, as he was crying with laughter, as he took Frank back to the airport. So, that’s the standard, let’s call it The FC standard. Now as I talk to you, you’ll not cry with laughter, though you may just cry. I hope that the putting it together makes it more interesting, and as I reveal things it gets more entertaining. Yes, I’m a Stripper on the page, hoping you’ll get more and more interested and  entertained so a hairy man full of scars with an enormous birthmark on his left shoulder is your thing, not to mention the Winnie the Pooh belly. Some of you are, well you are, perfect for me, if that’s what gets you going. But in generality what kind of woman you do anything for love like that. But I digress.

 

You now have this horrible image in your mind, and that’s what stories do. They put images in your mind, in the Windmills of your Mind. Which is my favourite song by the way, and didn’t Fr. Brain later Bishop Brain used to say I was Sancho Panza as I always trailed after my much taller brother over 50 years ago. Yes really. So again you have another mental picture in your mind, and that’s what I hope I do, Cartoons made with Words, hence the name of my backup site for my words. And Don Camillo as you all know was written to fill a space on the page, and even the Pope was given a copy of those stories. I was reading Don Camillo prior to my heart bypass 6 years ago, and the Italian heart professor was impressed when I told him what I was reading. See, humble me impressing an Italian heart professor at the QE.

 

You can impress with your words too, but stories are for builders, a layer here a layer there, and then decoration, like a cake too. Too fancy and people will be sick, too bland and people will spit it out, or even be sick of it. Remember too a book can be great as a film, but not so good as the book itself. Because in a film things are rearranged and changed, so a novelist will have to accept changes, and if he does not like them, he can have his name removed from the credits. Then for film audiences there are Telegraph moments, and film buffs can ruin a film by pointing them out. Such as I always wear shades in front of my screen to prevent eye strain, then later on in a film the shades would reappear and save the day somehow.

 

The pace of a story makes it what it is, too fast and it’s like a bad boyfriend, too slow and your parents arrive. Now what am I talking about, I don’t know it’s all in your imagination, On y soit qui mal y pense, and so on. So, you’re smiling now, why? Come on, tell me, why? So choice of words can make or break a story. I’d rather be gentle myself, and make the laughs last, just take you by the hand and lead you up the garden path. And yes there are several meanings to that last sentence, it’s up to you. That’s the joy of Radio, as I hope you hear all these stories as you read them aloud to grannie and all the others in the old people’s home. They like a good story old people, and if you find Old People’s Home on my back list, or even spotify, you’ll have a really good laugh. It’s in the second chapter of Tears for a Butcher, my unfinished sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, and you all know I’d like to dictate it, otherwise you’ll all be spared another 600 page comic novel.

 

Keeping people reading and turning pages is another thing a story should do, but you know what, if they just drop knickers every 20 pages, or a murder every 40 page then that’s just boring. Though some novelists have had a lifetime of words just by doing that. With me I hope you get laughter and more, and bastards get shown the door, in the best possible taste, with humour. You are the judges, I just please myself, and hope you all like it. I don’t plan it like a Delia Smith recipe, I am like a blindfolded chef who mixes it all up, and presents it naked on the plate, which might remind you of another tv chef. My words are chosen and flow, and the hope is that you all says he’s on LSD, I am on IMAGINATION in reality. The reality I present on the page should amuse and make you ask who is Michael Casey?

 

Now have I explained What makes a good story? Probably not, but it is a story in itself? And getting the stories from in ourselves is what it is all about. Words on a page, cartoons made with words shared with love and laugher. Now this Sancho Panza has to mount his donkey and  head for Korea, and Vincenzo is waiting for me there, to help carry away bars of gold.

 

another old photo of me looking at my worse years ago, if you want poncy photos go look at "influencers"

less is more

 

Less is More ©

By Michael Casey

Ok, as promised here’s a new piece for you. I’ve had a catch up with Vincenzo and it really should get International awards. 10/10 at least. So Less is More, what am I talking about. Not how I nag people, well maybe or maybe not. As you know I’m nosey so I watch people, hence decades of memories. And I’ve read and studied and I’ve even been writing for a long long time.

 

I once worked in a call centre, doesn’t everybody. And a girl there said to one of my fellow workers “you’re just a scruffy Indian”, only later did he reveal to her that he was in fact working 7 days a week, which is stereotypical Indian, or Korean. He was earning extra money to pay for Teacher Training at University for his wife. His real job, his 9 to 5 job? He, the “scruffy Indian” as she called him, he taught surgeons how to use lasers in operations. Yes really. I won’t reveal his name. But he was a very nice man.

 

Which makes me wonder the scars I have up both legs to my naughty bits and right down my chest, were they blade or laser? Anyway I’ve had 6 years extra time so far, and that’s why Still Alive 2015 had that title. So I’m rambling, do you want me to cut to the chase, or shall I put it in a podcast. I could record this later so you can hear it on Spotify later, https://anchor.fm/michael-casey1   to HEAR my Podcast.

 

Carrying on, do you just want bullet points, and a vacuous list, like you find in features pages? Yes, I’m very critical of the quality of stuff that litters the internet, Miaow. Here’s a few tips for you. First, make a list. Then you’ll buy less at the supermarket, or buy less online so you avoid impulse purchases. Ditto with your day, five minutes planning while you pooh on the toilet in the morning, will make all the difference to your day, and you will feel less bloated too. If only Trump twittered less during his toilet time he would have been less irritable, and so much more organised. Getting the Country to fight amongst itself is not organisation.

Look in the mirror before you go out, because appearances matter, to some. And you don’t want your dress stuck in the back of your panties, or your flies open. Simple things that can change your life. Yes, simple things matter. Like smiling, being Happy is a choice, even if you are not one of the 7 Dwarfs. I had the AA motto, How I can make this Day count, on my mantlepiece for years. No, I was not a drunk, I found it in a newspaper and cut it out, maybe 35 years ago. The point being, I read something and I agreed with it. So, I took it as my own. You have to smile, or people will say you are a misery guts, we had a guy work with us in the hotel, that was what we thought of him, misery. If only he smiled instead.

So, perception, and self-perception do matter. If only Michael Jackson did look in that mirror and change. How you look does affect how you feel. Yes, I know you all think I look like an illiterate tramp, but I want you to judge the words, and I detest those perfect vacuous influencer selfies, just before they fall off the cliff while taking selfies. Again I do like to surprize people, I had a doctor talk down to me at a conference, so I waited, he was talking about hotel economics, then I said my piece, adding My Brother did Economics at Cambridge, his reply, I can tell. So he noticed I had a brain then, so never talk down to anybody, just in case they bite your bum. Though in complaint letters, give them 3 strikes, then email the CEO and put Formal Complaint in the letter, every CEO has an email, and then really really dump on them. The board looks at lists of Formal Complaints and it influences their MONEY, so I’ve taught you something else as well. Be polite, but know when to be a Bastard too, your life is too short to be wasted by lazy ignorant badly trained people, Double Miaow.

 

I could go on, but One Direction are taking me down the Trader, the pub in Old Forge and Singing Anvil, they are celebrating their new joint venture, in car washing. I’m going to teach them how to twerk as they wash cars. So to recap, make a list, but be ready to change it. Don’t waste your time on time wasters, remember Kennedy and 15 mins for a meeting is enough. This is what I want, XYZ, and if they won’t do it walk away. Arguing the toss may make you pennies but in the long run, you’ll just get wrinkles, have you noticed I have no wrinkles, because I am penniless and don’t chase money. Ok, it’s because I fat, I won’t lie, I am heavier than Tyson Fury by the way, and 10 inches shorter. That’s why he never argues with me, he’s too busy having kids, so God Bless him anyway.

So everyday follow your list, and as you soak in the bath, look at your accomplishments, and if you have a big enough bath, let your partner look at your accomplishments, as you follow your true One Direction. You and I.