How else, but a moment of silence?
When first I moved to Strasbourg, I comforted myself that my near-total lack of language competence would matter little, as I was convinced that the locals would all be as fluent as their native son, Marcel Marceau (née Marcel Mangel) in the inaudible arts. It proved not to be, as I learned to my sorrow on my first foray into town search of a telephone booth.
I've moved beyond that now, but nonetheless, in honour of the entertainer's death this weekend at age 84, I'm putting a blank CD on the stereo and cranking the volume.
1 comment:
I'll never forget (or remember) the words of encouragement he sent me on my 60th birthday, when i was cold and lonely: "If you feel you are in box, push against it; if the wind blows, grab that rope and pull yourself out of it." Sage words. However, why mimes today are hanging around with simulated fried eggs inside opened umbrellas I will never understand.
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