What has to happen that a hardened FIDELITY-author in the mistaken assumption to know almost everything, to have heard almost everything, sitting in front of his plant and cries seized?

Apparently not much, it only needs a reasonably reasonable stereo, Brahms lullaby and a pair of pretty rustic Schallmöbel, already flowed the tears.

Thivan Eros 9: Where are the Kleenex when you need them?