Close to tears.

I've been close to tears for a long time. I first noticed it after my Dad died in 1981. I don't remember it being something that happened before that but, once the grieving had ended (if it ever really does),I could cry on a regular basis. The great American cop show, Hill Street Blues would set me off every week. Films, great photos, music and live concerts would have the same effect. As I've got older they have been joined by the paintings of Caravaggio, great tv documentaries and The Kerry Mountains, Ireland. This last few weeks has been a blub-fest as the Olympics and Paralympics have inspired, amazed and thrilled me. I suppose, at heart, I'm just a sentimental old fool. That doesn't make me a bad person. In fact, if there were a few more of us about, the world might be a less harsh and angular place. Here's one that gets me every time. A scene from 'Almost Famous' with Elton John's Tiny Dancer.

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