nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling

I made a quick trip to the supermarket for some fill-in ingredients that my wife needed for some baking she planned for after dinner. I jotted down a short list, hopped in the car and I was off. Minutes later, I found a parking space. I locked the car, grabbed a cart and headed inside, determined to make it fast, efficient and home in time for Jeopardy! 

I knew exactly where I was going, plotting the layout of the store in my head for optimum shopping results. With my eyes locked on a far aisle, I deliberately guided my cart towards the flour and chocolate chips. As I turned the corner, off the main front aisle into the "baking" aisle, I was greeted by an unexpected scene that threw off my single-minded procedure.

There was a group of people, probably an extended family of some sort, as the members exhibited a wide range of ages. Attention, however, was commanded by a young man who was crying. His eyes were red and puffy. His cheeks were wet and streaked with the remnants of recently-fallen tears. He was audibly sobbing, long mournful sobs that interrupted his normal breathing pattern.

And, at approximately 12 years old, he was way too old to be crying.

The family scanned the shelves and placed items in their cart, ignoring the boy, despite his anguished tones and weeping eyes. As I slowly made my way up the aisle, I surmised from bits of overheard conversation that something had happened in the store. Something distressing and sad. Something that was troubling. Something that hurt. In spite of his pleas and the waterworks turned on full blast, the family was only interested in finishing their marketing. It was genuinely heartbreaking. I could still hear his soft wailing from several aisles away.

I gathered the few remaining items on my list. I paid for my purchases and soon I was homeward bound.

I hate to see crying children. I hate to see crying children being ignored by their parents. Conversely, I hate to see parents ignoring a child in need.

Maybe some of Mrs. P's baked goods would cheer me up. They usually do.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

cry if you want to

In March 2013, when my son E. and I went to see our third concert by the indie cult band eels, we didn't know what to expect from the opening act that was mysteriously billed as "Puddles Pity Party." Last night, we were a bit more prepared... or so we thought.

Puddles Pity Party is a... well, I'm not sure what it is. It's sort of a multimedia "event" featuring Puddles, a six-foot-eight pancaked "sad clown with a golden voice." And what a voice he has! Powerful, commanding, gut-wrenching. But he only uses it for singing. Otherwise, he remains silent, expressing himself only with pantomime and sparse stage props.

The floor of the venerable Trocadero (or "The Troc," as it has been nicknamed by Philadelphia locals), an ornate one-time vaudeville theater, was arranged with tables and chairs as though the place had been booked for a wedding reception. E. and I grabbed seats at table up front and we chatted until showtime. When we saw Puddles Pity Party last time, he was an opening act and his short set could only accommodate five or so songs. We wondered what he would do, besides sing of course, to fill an hour. The house lights dimmed and our questions were about to be answered.

For the next 75 minutes, we witnessed a full spectrum of entertainment. The performance, dare I say spectacle, showcased shtick, karaoke, audience participation, slapstick comedy and singing. Singing the likes of which you have never heard. What a set of pipes on this guy! Between short, comical interactions with the audience, including serenades to a few with a personal message of "Happy Birthday," Puddles reclined across a makeshift set of stairs and prowled the massive stage, all while unleashing his rich multi-octave vocals to the joy and bewilderment of the crowd. Sure, the act is gimmicky and the entire concept is unusual, but there is no disputing the sheer beauty of Puddles' voice. He treated the audience to renditions of The Bee Gee's "I Started a Joke," Leonard Cohen's reverent "Hallelujah," and his interpretation of Lorde's "Royals," which has become an internet sensation. His heartfelt delivery of "My Heart Will Go On (The Love Theme from Titanic)" was inexplicably enhanced by a slideshow montage of scenes from Kevin Costner films. He even transitioned the song into a take on Metallica's "One." During his tearjerking cover of The Flat Duo Jets' "Lonely Guy," Puddles showered the front row with dozens of spent tissues, dampened with his own tears.

Perhaps "spectacle" isn't the right word. Maybe there just isn't a word to describe Puddles.

At the show's conclusion, the clown graciously posed for photos with each member of the audience. 

Those prone to bouts of coulrophobia, proceed at your own risk.

Here's little taste of Puddles... and that voice.

* * * * * UPDATE * * * * * 

Acknowledgement from the big man himself.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com