How acceptable is it to cry in public places? And does there need to be an obvious reason for doing so?

I am very well aware of the fact that people think I am wierd and its never really bothered me, in fact I agree wholeheartedly: I don't think they realise the full extent of it actually. This makes me glad; I don't think too many people would continue to spend their time around me if they had sat in my head for any length of time. But there we are. However. However. However this weekend I realised something. I realised that I have cried, really, honest to goodness cried real tears, in two places full to the brim with public in the space of forty-eight hours. And I didn't do it subtly, let me tell you. Is this just a bit too odd?
I went to see Laura Marling on Friday. Tiny little Laura Marling who commanded the stage and held everyone in absolute thrall for two hours as if she were an amazonian giantess with a machine gun and a chip on her shoulder, not a little slip of a thing armed with a beautiful sense of the world and a guitar. And a voice. Let us not forget her voice. Like a machine gun, it smacked me between the eyes and hit my heart, and I felt it hurt me. She sang these lines: "there is hope in the air, there's hope in the water...' and I felt the tears slide down my face and fall on my hands that I had clasped in my lap and was squeezing tightly together without noticing that i was making little purple crescents on the backs of them with my nails. She didn't make me sad, she made me proud; and acutely aware that for some people, talent is a duty. I thought then, that she fulfills hers absolutely.
If Laura Marling understands what keeps us all ticking over, then there is no doubt that Nicholas Sparks understands that its nice now and again to punctuate all of this bloody reality with a gorgeous man falling for a gorgeous woman. To a soundtrack. No real explanation needed i fear, I wept at the romance of it all and wished unshamedly, along with every woman in the cinema at the time I imagine, that one day I'll find my John and live in a movie all of the time. Pipe dream? Possibly. But I was touched nonetheless.
Dear John is a film based on a romantic's imagination. Laura Marling's songs remind me that there is something to be said for our mad world after all. Its seems they are both adept at prompting my mother to say she's glad I'm in touch with my emotions.