The CIA is now 75 years old. I have a note on this at the top of my Impromptus today. I also discuss Boris Johnson, mass shootings, energy policy, Steph Curry — a bunch of things, in keeping with the nature of the column. At the end, I have some photos from small-town Michigan.
Not long ago, I was a guest on Jonah Goldberg’s podcast, The Remnant: here. A reader wrote that he had been reading me for many years but had never heard my voice. He said, in effect, “You sounded much younger than I expected!”
I did not know how to reply, except to say this: “Typically, I sound like I’m about 30. I write like I’m either 75 or 16, depending. And I look like Leonardo DiCaprio in the immediate post-Titanic years — or so everyone says.”
In the course of that podcast, I brought up “If I Had a Hammer,” the old protest song. Jonah then talked about Trini Lopez, who made a big cover of that song. A reader writes, “Did you know that Ross McManus — father of Elvis Costello — covered ‘If I Had a Hammer’?”
Heck no. Mirabile dictu.
(I will always associate the phrase “mirabile dictu” with Bill Buckley. I used it last week when noting that the Detroit Tigers had won six in a row.) (We are now back to our losing ways.)
Earlier this month, I had an Impromptus that touched on graduations — what happy occasions they are. A reader, associated with a community college, writes,
Mr. Nordlinger,
. . . There is no celebration more joyous than the commencement ceremonies at a community college, particularly one that primarily serves students of color. Candidly, I will confess that, long ago, I would be annoyed at the raucous cheering for black graduates, tsk-tsking about the lack of decorum at such a dignified event. Once I got over myself, I noticed what I was missing: the pure joy of the moment, not only for the graduate — maybe not even primarily for the graduate. Many of our black students bring an entire entourage to mark the moment, a visible acknowledgement that behind every success story there are so many who made it possible. And I’m talking the whole family: parents, grandparents, spouses, children, aunts and uncles, cousins, even the occasional neighbor or family friend. It is not uncommon to see post-event pictures with 10-15 people surrounding the new graduate. The joy is infectious, filled with hope — for all of us.
In a different Impromptus, I wrote about diversity training. A reader tells me that he underwent diversity training in a big company. The trainer was presenting a slide and said, “As those of you who are lucky enough to be sighted can see . . .” Other people might have said, “As you can see . . .” But this fellow said — what he said.
A cheeky trainee (our reader) pointed out that there was no blind person in the room. He also had a question — a cheeky one: “What about people who aren’t lucky enough to be hearinged? How were they supposed to know that you wanted them to look at the slide?”
The trainer suggested moving on . . .
Finally, a reader writes, “Your words are sincerely appreciated as they provide me hope.” I’m not sure he got the right writer, but I mainly want to record what he writes next. Hope, he says, “is the most important element of life that could be put on the periodic table.”
Nicely expressed. And my thanks to all readers and correspondents.