The Red Violin

Although it doesn't happen very often, I love my life sometimes. This story starts about two and a half years ago.

I received a phone call from Amanda telling me that we were going to see a concert together. Joshua Bell was going to be playing at Interlochen, and she had front row center tickets for us.

For those not familiar, Joshua Bell is a violinist. He composed the score for the movie The Red Violin, which won him an Academy Award. He's very accomplished in his line of work, and has won some Grammy's to boot. I had only seen parts of The Red Violin before going to see him, so I wasn't as excited as Amanda, but the violin is my favorite instrument, so I was up for it.

The concert was amazing, but we spent the entire time living in fear. See, someone's watch beeped during the first song he did, which broke his concentration, and he had to start over. I was petrified to move or make any noise since I didn't want to be the person who made him start over again.

After the concert, we went to dinner, and Joshua went too. He ended up being really nice and came to our table and talked to us. There were some students sitting at the table with us, and one of the girls ordered him a dessert. It was a nice gesture, until she started to eat off his plate. The look of disbelief, intermixed with horror was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Amanda and I had a two and a half hour drive home, so we left. He gave us a look that said, "Please don't leave me with this crazy girl." A friendship was born.

Anyhow, fast forward to tonight. The Temple was showing The Red Violin. I was walking near the backstage area with Deena, when the lady who owns the violin walked behind us, holding the violin that sparked the motivation for this movie and is probably one of the most beautiful instruments ever made. I'm not one for hero worship or thinking someone is better due to their fame or wealth, but I was in awe when I saw it. I seriously froze and my mouth dropped. I couldn't believe I was standing five feet away for it. If I had been smart, I would have asked if I could look at it closely and maybe touch it. I'm sure she would have said no, but I would have loved to at least ask.