Encore!

Being four years old, Max's experience with symphony concerts is pretty much limited to the end credits of "Little Einsteins". So before taking him to the local youth symphony this weekend to hear "Peter And The Wolf", I had a chat with him about how it was a "sit down and listen" kind of place. His response was "Will there be CURTAINS?" and much getsitement over the drapery potential. Then he added that he might need to wear a button down shirt.

And then he told me about the portfolio he's putting together for next week's episode of Martha Stewart Living. Draperies and collars, sheesh.

While he was hardly able to sit still for like, um, a note, he really enjoyed seeing the instruments and watching the musicians, all the more intriguing because they were teens. Almost kids! With trumpets! Dreams really do come true!

There were two exceptional moments of the afternoon. The first occurred when the African American conductor came out to great applause in his tuxedo and acknowledged the crowd with a slight tip of his baton. As he turned to face his orchestra, and the concert hall hushed in anticipation, Max asked in a stage whisper, "Is THAT RockoBAHma?". Hi..it's us...from the sticks..don't get out to the CITY much over here. But truly, it made me smile, and not just from awkward embarrassment. When a small child sees a person of a different race whom he mistakes for the President of the United States, that tells me that trumpets and curtains aren't the only dreams that really do come true.

My favorite memory of the afternoon was watching Max and his buddy, Charlie, silently "conduct" Eine Klein Nachtmusik from their seats. The boys were too small to hold down the seat bottoms and their little legs kept folding up on them like manila envelopes. There they were, sunken down with knees at their chest, tennis shoes banging at the edge of their rising seats, grinning wildly to Mozart and sharing the joy of the violins. When the piece was over, Max told me he couldn't WAIT to tell to Sammy about it.

The violins weren't the only thing pulling on the [heart] strings.