My Impromptus today begins with schools — in San Francisco and elsewhere. As you know, voters in San Francisco recalled three of their school-board members, in a “landslide decision,” as the San Francisco Chronicle put it. The president of the city’s Board of Supervisors had an amazing response to the recall. He said it was driven by “closet Republicans and most certainly folks with conservative values in San Francisco, even if they weren’t registered Republicans.”
There’s enough material in those few words for several columns.
In today’s Impromptus, I also discuss blockades, the Olympics, Prince Andrew, MTG, the GOP, QE2 (the woman, not the ship), Josh Hawley, and P.J. O’Rourke.
A reader writes,
P.J. has been one of my favorite writers for a long time, and will be greatly missed. Several years ago, we met at some conference or other, shook hands, and enjoyed a brief conversation. He was all smiles, with a twinkle in his eye, and a face that showed some hard living.
I will miss P.J.
In New Zealand, authorities have been trying to disperse protesters by blasting Barry Manilow songs at them. The protesters have responded by playing “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” by Twisted Sister. I discussed this in an Impromptus earlier this week.
A reader recalls — and, in fact, has dug up — a cartoon drawn in the mid-1980s. A Bloom County, which features, yes, Barry Manilow and Twisted Sister, and the idea of tormenting people through song.
In 2015, Berkeley Breathed, Bloom County’s creator, gave an interview to NPR. He said,
I remember walking — I was in Santa Barbara, maybe 18 months ago. I was scootering with my little boy down State Street, and I pass a fellow and zip right around his feet and keep going, and I realized who it was. And I stopped, and I told my kid to follow me, and I came back and confronted him, which I would never normally do. And it was Barry Manilow.
Who appeared many times in my comic strip, and probably not in the most flattering ways, in 1985. In fact, I was probably fairly merciless with him . . .
And I walked up to him and introduced myself, and he remembered who I was. We both remembered that he sent me a bouquet of flowers when I had broken my back in 1987 in a flying accident. The target of my meanest cartoons sent me a massive bouquet of flowers, to my hospital. And we both remembered that, and we laughed about it, and he turned to my son and said,
“This is one of the greatest cartoonists of our generation.” And I turned to my boy, and I said, “This is one of the greatest and most famous singers of our generation.”
And I realized I would — I don’t have it in me now to do that again. It’s under the category of things that I do differently now. I’m not the same guy I was in 1985. Fortunately, my sense of humor hasn’t completely been defeated, but . . .
Nice. All right, what else? Two days ago, I had a little post about concert-hall etiquette, and a reader writes,
I read your story about the young man playing with his phone in Carnegie Hall, and it reminded me of something that happened recently. I was watching a sublime performance of The Magic Flute at the Royal Opera House when an elderly gentleman in the audience started to make some muffled sounds. I didn’t realize it initially, but as he continued, I worked out he was singing along with the Queen of the Night. He was told several times to stop and was eventually thrown out! . . .
I suspect that, because lockdowns have kept us from interacting with one another, we have forgotten how to behave when in an audience, for example. However, there has been an upside to all this: next to no coughing.
Our reader links to an article from the Guardian, which says that coughing in theaters is a “new taboo.” Whereas coughing was routine in the past, it has now been stigmatized.
That reminds me of a conversation I overheard in the spring of 2020. I included it in a little memoir I wrote: “Pandemic City: One man’s experience in New York.” A youngish fellow was talking to a friend of his in Riverside Park. He said, “I have hay fever, and when I’m coughing, people look at me like I’m a serial killer.”
There’s a lot more mail — good mail, too — but I’ve kept you a while, and maybe we should have one more short note. Could put a smile on your face.
Jay,
I do some work in politics, at the grassroots level. People have been saying some crazy, crazy things. I’ve thought, “Where’s the silent majority when you need them?”
Have a good one, everybody. Today’s Impromptus, again, is here.