The Circle in the Square Theatre is/was in Sheridan Square in Greenwich Village near Seventh Avenue. There's a building there called the Sheridan Arms, where I, coincidentally, happened to room with some friends while in law school near there.
Going back to Cervantes, being a parent, and all, my youngest son, Rick, had a role in Man of La Mancha recently and I saw the thing three or four times. It was very moving, even for a high school performance. The message, or one of the messages, was that there's more to life than the cynicism of which our Westerleigh medical friend speaks. The scullery maid, Aldonza, has elements of a lady, even though she denies it until, in the end, the idea uplifts her, and gives her something worth living, struggling, even singing, for.
Sometimes we need to be reminded, otherwise life looks like the bombing of buses in Belgrade, or the massacre at Columbine High School, through which we lived last week, those of us who lived, that is, or the tornado in Oklahoma.
Cervantes, or Sancho, his mouthpiece, gets kidded about all the aphorisms that come flowing forth, to a fault. I happen to love them.
Some of my favorites, which I use to rationalize peace-making efforts in legal situations, include:
"Whether the stone hits the pitcher, or the pitcher hits the stone, the result is bad for the pitcher." The FawCawnahs equivalent is "Don't beat your head against the wall."
"A bad peace is better than a good war." At least I think this saying is Cervantes's. I certainly hope so, at any rate, as I've been crediting him for years.
On another note, "The proof of the pudding is in the tasting" is one of his.
Viva Cervantes, and Viva Windmills.
So much for Espana. I wonder if Germany has produced any gems worth remembering; I'll have to ask my erudite friend in Mercedes-Benz-land.
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