La Rochefoucauld and Uriah Heep

 Sorry, sorry, sorry. 

 “Il arrive quelque fois des accident dans la vie, d’où il faut être un peu fou pour se bien tirer,” Uncle Albert said.
     “La Rochefoucauld,” I said.
     “Yes, I know.”

“Did you read the blog?” I said, gobsmacked as the British say, because he never does.
      “Roz showed it to me.”
     “Did Roz read the blog?” I said, gobsmacked again, because she doesn’t either.  
     “Apparently.” 

La Rochefoucauld at Cannes 1971

I asked because I knew it was La Rochefoucauld only because of a conversation we’d had, Uncle Albert and I, some weeks ago. About humility. He had quoted La Rochefoucauld.
     I had said, “Something, something about having at times to be a fool – there are situations.”
     “Yes.”
      “And?”
     He took on his Zen master look. 

Later, the next day I think, I said, “Are you suggesting that a willingness to be publicly foolish could be a sign of humility?”
     “What do you think,” he said.
      “It could be,” I said, “if it’s not a case, like with comics, of being foolish to say ‘Look at me, look at me. I’m foolish. Damned good at, it too, aren’t I?’” I said: “It can’t be a strategy.”
     “Or part of the plot?” he said.
     “Humility as a strategy isn’t humility,” I said. “It’s something quite else.” I found myself practically shouting: “It’s hypocrisy.”
      “Uriah Heep,” Uncle Albert said.
                                                                            05.26.23