He owns the audience and makes a stage where one never had been, just by his presence. He’s got the presence of a king or a hand-shaking, baby-kissing politician. All of the show, so much show − always his guard up − people never hear his authentic voice speaking.
So rare is the moment that he is not “on.” I wonder what he’s like when he’s alone. Did he get taken by that Elvis song − that “all of the world is stage”? I wonder if deep inside anyone's home.
The grouch is quite cranky. He smiles when he must, begrudgingly. He doesn’t know the Elvis song nor does he know any. He only talks to those few who are good enough. He works, and fixes, and hmmph! explains what he must. This one owns the code and the passwords to stuff. He’s a headmaster trying relationships because books say that he’s supposed to, though he can’t really see the point of time wasted on talk. He uses façade so no one knows exactly what he is thinking
Rare is the moment that I’ve seen him show genuine care for another person’s feelings or their situation. Did he take his teachers too seriously when they said “Sit up straight. Fold your hands. Be serious. Stop talking.” I wonder?
So different and the same in one way. Neither one understands the curtain, the wall of not seeing between them and people. They don’t realize that despite their work not to reveal who they are. It's opaque like colorful water. We can see through it. Little actions show feeling they think are hidden. For example they don't know they can’t tease someone they don’t like. They don't understand why their family doesn't laugh when they only pretend to be funny.
Two men so protected, they don’t know that the world can see when they are leaking bits of genuine feelings.
−me strauss Letting me strauss.