In Impromptus today, I have the usual assortment of debate reactions and observations — some of them serious, some of them less so. I note that Rick Santorum introduced his mother and announced that she was 93. And then, unbuttoned, I say,

I think it’s disgusting to publicize your mother’s age. But most Americans eat it up, I think. It’s very modern. Part of the Oprahfied America.
I hope there are still mothers who, if their sons stated their age in public, would slap them.

Thinking about it further, I remembered Willard Scott, who, I must acknowledge, represented the pre-Oprah America (I believe). He had the practice of announcing people’s hundredth birthdays. “Thelma Sue is 100 years young today!” he would say. The women (as they usually were) didn’t seem to mind. There is probably something about a hundredth birthday that makes people want to say how old they are. “Hey, guess what? I’m a hundred.”

I have long noticed something about musicians’ bios. When the musician — say, a violinist — is quite young, his bio notes that fact: “Age 19, Mr. Smith has already soloed with such orchestras as . . .” The bio stops mentioning his age when he turns about 26. For decades, you hear nothing. Then, the bio says, “Mr. Smith, who recently celebrated his 80th birthday . . .”

Yes, that’s what musicians’ bios do: note age early and note it late. In between, silence.

Speaking of musicians and age — and Willard Scott — I interviewed Elliott Carter, the composer, just before his hundredth birthday. That was in 2008. He is now a buck oh three, and still working, I understand. But can he beat Leo Ornstein’s record? This composer lived from 1893 to 2002 (dying at 108). David Dubal, the music scholar — not to be confused with David Duval, the golf champion — once remarked to me that Ornstein is probably the only composer to write music in three different centuries.

Beat that, as WFB would say.