Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of attending one of the commencement ceremonies at Purdue University. Delivering the address was Mitch Daniels, the president of the university (and former governor of Indiana, budget director for Bush 43, political aide to Reagan, etc.). His theme was individuality: You are an individual. Don’t let people slap group labels on you.
I lead with this address in my Impromptus column today. If you would like to see Daniels deliver his address, here it is, on YouTube. In my column, I also discuss Midge Decter, Roe v. Wade, the shooting in Buffalo, Madison Cawthorn, Stanislau Shushkevich, Magnus Carlsen — a host of issues and personalities. Something for everyone to like, and dislike.
My column is headed “Singing along with Mitch, &c.” Some may remember a TV show from the 1960s: Sing Along with Mitch. It starred Mitch Miller, an extraordinary man of music. An exceptionally versatile sort.
A reader writes,
. . . I remember Sing Along with Mitch and even some of the tunes. “Let me hear a melody, I start to sing along, loud and strong, I love to sing along. Get me near a melody, a simple singin’ song, and I sing along.” . . .
Mitch Miller was trained as a classical oboist (well, aren’t all oboists classical?). He toured with George Gershwin in the 1930s. . . .
He taught oboe at Eastman before the legendary Robert Sprenkle, and he gave the U.S. premieres of two cornerstones of the oboe repertoire: Mozart’s Concerto in C, K. 314 (discovered only in the 20th century) and Richard Strauss’s Concerto in D. Modern oboists owe him a debt.
He then went into the recording industry and never came out.
I saw him once, briefly, in a deli on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, but did not speak to him.
The above-quoted reader is Robert Howe, who has provided a brief bio (at my request):
Robert Howe is a semi-retired endocrinologist with a degree in musicology who has played the oboe for 50 years. This is, coincidentally, as long as he has read National Review. He lives in western Massachusetts with his lovely wife, herself a physician and musician; they hope to run into Jay Nordlinger at Carnegie Hall some fine day. Their five children are grown.
In today’s Impromptus, I also mention Bob Lanier, the great NBA center. He meant a lot to us Detroiters and Michiganders. He was a Piston (and also a Buck in the last years of his career). He passed away last week.
A reader writes,
Jay,
There was a commercial with Lanier joking with another player about the biggest feat in basketball. The other player pointed to Bob’s feet and said, “No, those are the biggest feet in basketball.”
So, I was flying back to Michigan from Seattle in the ’70s. It was an early-morning flight and it so happened that the Pistons had played the Sonics the night before. On the tram out to the gates, I was sitting next to Bob Lanier, who was stretched out and looked really tired, so I didn’t want to disturb him. Because he looked so tired, I didn’t ask who had won.
What really struck me was how big his feet were. I did not appreciate their extraordinary size until then.
I do kind of wish I had gotten to talk to him.
A final note, concerning sports? This is from my friend Sherm, a former hurler at Michigan State University:
Hi, Jay:
I saw this trailer for Facing Nolan. . . .
Saw him [Nolan Ryan] in the Astro Dome, and the sound of the catcher’s glove was audible from my cheap seat.
He was GREAT!!!!
And your friend W. makes an appearance in the trailer.
Thank you to one and all, and catch you soon.