Strange happening

I often think of my life as being on a level, neither unhappy nor happy. I don't get excited or angry or even upset anymore, and I suppose that has been the result of the way that I was brought up and the things that have happened to me over the years. Mainly i find that it is a comfortable way to go about things and maybe it is prolonging my existence.

It came as a surprise then, when last night i found my eyes brimming with tears as i watched a TV programme. Normally a well paid up member of the cynics society, as well as a qualified pessimist, the TV is just there and much passes me by unnoticed. Last night however I watched the Anthony Minghella production of Madame Butterfly from the New York Met, and it was wonderful. Butterfly is always a tear jerker I know, though I have sat through many live performances amongst a sea of sniffs and hankies, without batting an eyelid, but last night was different. The music is evocative enough and the performances were stunning, but what set me off was Butterfly's son, played by a puppet and controlled by two men in black. I have never seen such emotion produced by something inanimate before. In most productions a small child is used and they stand bewildered on stage until they are ushered off. The puppet stole the scenes in which it was used and for me was the making of the show. I pretended otherwise, but by the end of the performance my eyes were filled with tears and I could barely speak. No production has ever had that effect on me before.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Bror-r0Wfw&NR=1