return of the young depardieu

Evening at the chateau.
Ireland's greatest living poet is flumped in an armchair flicking with equal disapproval between Southpark and Family Guy.
His mother sits nearby.
"You got an email from Michael Appourchaux today," murmurs El Lil conversationally.
Her remark refers to a French actor I'm vaguely acquainted with, who's been winning moderate success on the continent.
Some of the frog critics are excited about him anyway.
They call him the young Depardieu.
I kid you not.
By the way, bold readers, the Mammy's mentioning of this missive from Appershocks, indicates that she's whiled away the afternoon having a good old fashioned root through my emails.
"Did you find anything interesting during your perusal?" I ask her.
The aged parent doesn't turn a hair.
"Oh I didn't read them," lieth she coolly. "I just see the names in your inbox. I noticed Michael's one because I know you don't reply to him. I was surprised he's still in touch."
A little piece of historical information bold readers.
Not many people know this but Michael Appershocks got his first big acting break in the 1996 production of my play Vampires Of Dublin. He played Francois, the, er, French vampire hunter.
Ingenious piece of casting what!
He's now back in France and has become very well established with performances in cinema, theatre and on television.
"Why don't you write to him?" sez the Mammy with the air of one poking a corpse with a stick.
"Because I can tolerate no contact with him," I shoot back suddenly venomous. "He's a success. He's married Chrystelle. They have kids. He's on stage. His life has exceeded mine. I'm just a failure. That's why I don't write to him if you must know."
The Mammy eyed me keenly.
"Are you joking?"
"My whole life is a failure."
"Are you being funny now?"
"A total utter complete failure. Useless. That's all I am."
"I know you're joking."
"Yeah, but would you not try and talk me out of it just in case? Would you not do a bit of a tribute to me? Tell me what a great fellow I am and list off all the great things about me? Do I have to beg for a compliment around here?"
"Ah you great twit, you had me worried," said the Mammy.
A thought struck her.
"What do you think it says about all of us who are in your life when you start saying you're a failure?" sez she.
My reply when it came was spoken in kinder gentler tones than what had come before.
"Lil old pal," sez I. " You know that the two most important things in my life are always going to be Southpark and Family Guy."
The Mammy groaned.
"I was sure you were going to say Paddy Pup and the hamster," quoth she.
My handsome features brighten.
"I hadn't thought of them," I enthuse warmly. "That's four. The four most important things in my life. After those though it's you and the Dad."