Joe was excited because they were performing his favorite, Beethoven’s Fifth. “DA, DA, DA, DAAAA,” Joe sang to himself. Joe arrived at the Arts Center and took his seat. The anticipation was overwhelming. He heard the instruments warming up. What dissonance. It’s amazing how beautiful it sounds when they play together, he thought. The room was hushed; the conductor walked up, took a bow and turned to the orchestra, which was at complete attention. He raised his baton and the music began. Even though Joe had listened to Beethoven’s Fifth dozens of times, tonight’s performance was extraordinary, the best he had ever heard. Joe marveled at how in sync they played, their bodies moving in one motion, the notes beautifully blending, the music swelling to a crescendo and then almost silent. Joe was transported; he lost himself, thinking, How effortless, how wonderful it must be to play in the orchestra; how rewarding it would be to conduct such talented people. After the 昀椀nal notes reverberated throughout the hall, Joe was the 昀椀rst to stand and applaud the performance. The audience agreed with him and a standing ovation resulted. The conductor bowed, then gestured to the audience to cheer on the orchestra. Joe marveled, Wow, look at him allowing the musicians to take the spotlight, look at their pride — amazing. Joe couldn’t wait to compliment the conductor at the reception. Once he spotted him, Joe made a beeline and said, “Great performance, Maestro. What talent you and the orchestra have; you and the orchestra were like one instrument, playing 昀氀awlessly. It must be incredible to be so talented. You make it look so effortless, so simple. I can tell you must have cracked the whip and worked the musicians hard — ” The Maestro interrupted, “Slow down, Joe. I appreciate your compliments, and I thank you for the enthusiasm. The orchestra 8