I’ve lived in Boston for 22 years, a relative newcomer by some local standards. But I realized I was a true Bostonian during a recent trip to Israel when, at the conclusion of a chamber music concert in Tel Aviv, I joined the rest of the audience in the clapping that universally stands for a request for an encore. As the musicians settled back to play another number, I realized I wasn’t waiting to hear Mozart or Schubert. I was waiting for them to launch into “Sweet Caroline.”
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