Two years ago Kris and I returned to my house from a date. Mom immediately ushered us onto the couch beside her, telling us, "you have to watch this!" What we ended up watching for an hour or more was a concert performance of Andre Rieu on channel 8. Andre is a conductor of a great orchestra and he also plays (which is an understatement for what he actually does) the violin. What we saw glued us in that living room. The musicians sang through their instruments. The men were in tuxes, and the women in extravagant, period looking dresses.The joy they got from the music just radiated from their sound and their faces. Smiling, joking, all alive and spirited. Mom thinks she remembers the concert being in Tuscany, Italy. The crowd there just consumed it all. They sang or clapped or danced to every song. They cheered and clapped and begged for more. Even as far removed from it as we three were, the energy from that performance, that crowd, reached us in our little, quiet living room in Scottsdale, Arizona. Tonight we closed the distance. As a birthday gift to her self, mom bought tickets for the concert here. Mom, dad, Kris,Karen, Mike and I all went. Still having that memory of the first time I had ever heard of Andre Rieu, I couldn't wait to experience it all in person. The performance did not disappoint us, any of us. The orchestra was phenomenal, the singers incredible, and Andre...fantastique! I couldn't stop smiling from start to finish. But what I couldn't help notice that strongly contradicted my cherished memory of the Rieu experience, was the lackluster of the audience. Andre made several remarks through the night about Phoenix being the best place to perform, and how it made his year, and we all knew he was kidding. I bet the orchestra hates playing in America. While in other places across the globe, audiences are out of their chairs and actively participating in every way the music moves them, we Americans sit politely in our ticket-assigned seats. We applaud at the end of songs and during bows, but don't make us clap too long because our hands get tired. We clap during songs only when the rhythm is very strong and demands it. And we really don't ever sing unless asked. At the end of the concert, they played God Bless America. I bet they play nation songs wherever they go, and you know they played it just so we could get excited about singing it. But to be honest, I'm not sure how many people in that vast audience knew all the words. The most decipherable phrase heard was "sea to shining sea." And I'm not excluding my self from that sad observation. Kris knew all the words, but he sang the song in high school choir. Without that history, would he have known them? I also noticed that before the concert even finished, people were on their way out the door. Granted, the majority of this audience had gray hair, but still. When comparing nations, has America's passion gone by the wayside, and entertainment taken over? Have we, who have become so comfortable in our Lazy Boys with our DVRs to play and fast forward whenever we want, lost the energy to stand and clap until the very last musician has left the stage? If I get the chance to talk to a musician who's performed all over the world, I'd like to ask, Is America the worst audience? I told mom we have to go abroad to see the concert again, the proper way. I'm not disappointed in tonight. I'd been looking forward to it and I enjoyed it from start to hours after finish. But on the list of things to do before I die, I'm adding Andre Rieu in Tuscany. Carrie