
So, I was moved, in the way that a man can be moved, uh, by, uh, a, uh, woman, uh, uh, well, on screen……or in a magazine……or walking down the street……or on the el……or………….whatever, never mind.
Now, back in say, the youngster days of young love, I would have never broached this to an old sally. Too afraid, especially from Q, of getting the “WHAT??WHAT ARE YOU SAYING??HOW DARE YOU!!!!YOU DON‘T LOVE ME???” bit from them. However, strengthen’d by age (Grown Folks-thanx Michael Baisden) and wisdom, I’m over that. It’s very easy now to, well, tell Gf “say, y’ll never guess what I saw and how it moved me”, and then……………. First time it ever happened it was so cool. There was a scene from some other French movie (??) featuring a meeting betwixt a lady of the evening as informant and a police detective. Moving scene** that moved me to move on up movie moves move. Move it!!
*= strange- the French title has the French word for “heart” in it= must be an idiom. Dunno.
**=my use of the term ‘moving’ is only to be used in this piece’s context- I was also moved by the singing of a hymn in mass yesterday, but not in the same way. Can y dig it??
No comments:
Post a Comment