Do people on this side of the ocean ever cry over the strains of the balalaika?

Is there anyone aside from me who swells with great emotion when the balalaika plays its little tune as spring comes to Yuriatin?

Doctor Zhivago is not a great movie. Yurii is in many ways a despicable character. History is simplified, love is simplified. Pasternak is not at the top of the Russian heap of great writers.

But play that tune, flash those daffodils and birches and I am lost in the world that has absolutely no resemblance to this one. This is a Russian fairy tale and I love all elements that make it exactly that.

I came back to Madison tonight and I mindlessly clicked on the TV. I don't typically do this, but I was tired and I spent way too many hours at airports (on the busiest travel day of the year). Dr. Z. spun me back to another world, made up of a different range of emotions -- one I'll fully plunge into next week on my trek back to Poland. Wonderful transition. Thank you cable TV. You came through at last.