(Cue creaking door sound)
/me pauses, looking around and brushing away a few cobwebs.
It’s ironic, I suppose, that the first post I make after such a long silence is about a dead mime.
No, really.
Marcel Marceau passed away Sunday, at the age of 84. I knew he was a great entertainer, but I had no idea about what he did during the Holocaust.
He apparently had no last words. I understand he went…quietly. But wait…what if he isn’t really dead and now he has to do that “trapped in a box” thing for real?
I know. Go to my room.
