Column: How I fell in love with the Dutch ‘King of the Waltz’

I suppose it was to be expected. Preordained, in fact.

Anyway, it took root 43 years ago when I married my Dutch sweetheart, Hedy Mary.

Hedy was raised in the Netherlands. I was a simple Orange County lad with no understanding of anything Dutch. I knew zero about Holland’s history (except that once upon a time New York was called New Amsterdam) or anything about Dutch culture, idiosyncratic behavior or achievements.

I was oblivious.

Prior to meeting Hedy, I envisioned Dutchmen as burly, blond stevedores wearing Dutch caps and hauling huge balls of cheese off and on canal barges — with windmills twirling in the background. Or maybe they were blonde girls wearing lacy dresses and funny high-peaked bonnets with triangular wings, like the outfits worn by ladies who worked at the Van de Kamp’s bakery outlet of my youth.

Oh, and wooden shoes. I must not forget the wooden shoes.

But my exotic Dutch-Indonesian bride put an end to such awkward stereotypes. She, in fact, fits no stereotype: a brown-eyed beauty with long dark tresses.

Several years ago Hedy launched a Dutch lightning bolt into my backside that changed me forever.

What, pray tell, was that bolt? André Rieu.

Hedy has introduced me over the decades to such Dutch luminaries as Rembrandt, Hieronymus Bosch, Harry Mulisch, Eddie van Halen and Meindert Hobbema: three painters, a novelist and a rock star.

And now, Rieu.

How can I employ words to capture the considerable talents of this artist? Have you seen him?

He and his Johann Strauss Orchestra make a dazzling spectacle. He founded the ensemble in 1989. It’s the largest privately owned orchestra in the world.

Rieu’s company is the source of the best musical sounds and satisfactions one might imagine. The group’s concerts, which are often held in stadiums or large piazzas, plazas or squares, are, well, mind-blowing.

Rieu conducts each performance with a Stradivarius violin on his shoulder. Though I’m Orange County (not to be confused with anything relating to William of Orange) born-and-bred, I love the guy.

Rieu, 68, is the pied piper of lavish, profligate, over-the-top — and absolutely marvelous — musical extravaganzas. His concerts evoke the romance of a bygone era — a different world, really — and feature such musical styles as waltzes, film scores, opera, musicals, spirituals, folk songs and marches.

The music is targeted to the bourgeoisie of our time (like myself) who don’t know music or composers particularly well, but who are familiar enough with what’s been produced over the centuries to be dangerous, even obnoxious. And, for us, the schmaltzier, more mawkish and louder the better.

The lovely women of Rieu’s company are adorned in multi-hued ball gowns that are designed by Rieu himself and emit a certain Euro-chic vibe. The somewhat podgy men are poured into tuxedos that burst at the seams.

And we thousands in attendance stand and “hmm hmm” or “da da” or “la la” along to Strauss, Verdi, Sousa or Andrew Lloyd Webber — or we badly mangle the lyrics — with the fruit of the vine in one hand and our special someone in the other. Joyful memories and tender emotions well to the surface of our consciousnesses. Unapologetically, we weep as we’re reintroduced to summer’s flowers, now faded.

Ah, the vivacity of Shostakovich’s Waltz No. 2 and the pomp and pipes of “Amazing Grace.” Emitted from a single source.

The author of this movable feast is Rieu, the Mad Genius of Maastricht (his hometown in southern Holland). He’s known as “King of the Waltz.”

And I love his shtick.

A PBS favorite, which is where I first encountered him, Rieu lives with his wife of 40 years, Marjorie, in a 15th-century Maastricht castle. He travels the globe with his orchestra. His 2018 tour includes stops in Argentina, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, France, the U.K., the Netherlands, Austria, Chile, Mexico and the U.S.

He speaks six languages (Dutch, English, German, French, Italian and Spanish) and began playing the violin at age 5.

Like me, you may be Orange County born and bred. But I urge you to give André Rieu’s musical fare a taste.

I’m betting you’ll like it.

JIM CARNETT, who lives in Costa Mesa, worked for Orange Coast College for 37 years.