It might as well have been you in that chair when Melfi was dressing him down about his idea that Tony was a "sad clown."
Others see the "clowning" as acts of (e-) rage.
I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't feel sad clowny at all.
I do think everybody of my relative age suffers from some of those same feelings, though. We were born into a world where "men were men" even if it were nothing but a public perception. Men worked, women stayed home and raised the children. The children were seen and not heard. Beaver Cleaver, Father Knows Best, Andy Griffith....
The world is much different now. All the things it looked like our fathers and grandfathers handled with grim manliness are now beyond our control.
My dad could seemingly do almost anything. When the car broke down, he got under the hood and fixed it. He and my grandfather got together and built our first house. It wasn't a mansion, but it was good enough.
My car breaks down, I take it to a shop. I could fix my first car (65 Mustang) myself, but I have no idea where anything is under the hood now. I couldn't even find the battery when somebody needed a jump off at the mall. (It's in the trunk, I learned that). I couldn't build a house.
Our grandfathers were heroes. They went to war, defeated Hitler and the Japanese and came back home. The next generation went to Korea or Vietnam and came back damaged and broken. It's like they weren't quite strong enough and we are substantially weaker. I watch the movies about the invasion of Normandy and I don't know if I could do that. Not only me, but our leadership as well. We wouldn't do that.
I identified with Tony in a lot of ways. We're essentially the same age (he's three or four years older) and the feelings his character was imbued with are very familiar to me -- even down to the nostalgia over old songs on the radio. The struggle to get his kids to understand the values that were important to him (even if he didn't always exhibit them himself) resonates.