Because French Clowns are People, Too
There is always a reason to Cry in Public if you are a hackneyed, lost 20-something in the good ol' Big Apple.
Today's nugget of joy: on the platform of the 59th St. N/R/W subway station, the Belle & Sebastian in my headphones (pointedly DJed to keep me afloat for the evening [yes, some days I actually try]) was overshadowed by a mime. And not just any mime, mind you. This happy fellow, who was adorned in the usual black-garb-with-white-face-makeup, was robotically, slowly, dollishly moving (it might be considered dancing, if you live in a sad world peopled by my worst nightmare). Accompanied by none other than an amplified music box. That was playing "Rockaby Baby." If that's not reason enough to stop dead in your tracks, press STOP on the discman, and sink to the floor in a puddle of self-pity, then I don't know what is.
Today's nugget of joy: on the platform of the 59th St. N/R/W subway station, the Belle & Sebastian in my headphones (pointedly DJed to keep me afloat for the evening [yes, some days I actually try]) was overshadowed by a mime. And not just any mime, mind you. This happy fellow, who was adorned in the usual black-garb-with-white-face-makeup, was robotically, slowly, dollishly moving (it might be considered dancing, if you live in a sad world peopled by my worst nightmare). Accompanied by none other than an amplified music box. That was playing "Rockaby Baby." If that's not reason enough to stop dead in your tracks, press STOP on the discman, and sink to the floor in a puddle of self-pity, then I don't know what is.
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posted by Lyssa at 6:49 PM
1 Comments:
Remember how there was that segment on Animaniacs called Mime Time... and there was that mime and bad stuff happened to him? Yeah... that was pretty cool.
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