We just get something in our eye

　　A short walk from my house in Hampshire， on a hill overlooking the heathland， is a plaque marking the spot where Richard Pryce Jones deliberately crashed his Halifax bomber during the war. He could have parachuted to safety， but that would have meant crashing into the village. The epitaph reads: "He died that others might live1 Mom Is Using MaternityLeave to Travelthe World WithHer Family。 ."

　　It never fails to move me. Not to tears， you understand. That would be disrespectful. But I do usually manage a lump in the throat and that film of moisture over the eyes that men have in their emotional armoury. Gordon Brown demonstrated the non-crying cry beautifully when he made his farewell speech on the steps of Number 10. That catch in the throat. The determination not to weep in public. At that moment， if at no other， he had nobility。

　　Not everyone can carry it off. I don't think Paul Gascoigne ever quite got the hang of it， for example. But I like to think I have it down to an art， my technique honed from years of watching The Railway Children， Sleepless in Seattle and that scene in Dumbo when the mother elephant is locked away. "Daddy!" my sons will say， pointing the accusing finger. "You're crying!"

　　"Me? Over Dumbo? Ha ha ha. No， boys， what I am doing is man-crying， a sort of non-crying cry. I'll teach you it one day. Very useful."

　　They are too young to appreciate the nuance yet， but when they are older I will explain that open sobbing is associated with being female， and so inappropriate for men. The Charlie Chaplin analogy might be useful here. He once said that the way to act drunk is to imagine yourself a drunk man trying to act sober. The same is true when a man learns the non-crying cry. To be convincing， you must look as if you are trying to avoid tears。