That photo up there is of Central Park, yesterday. There’s a pond in that photo — trust me. I think you could safely walk across it now (although this is inadvisable).

I have an Impromptus column today, headed “Pledges, picks, &c.” It has to do with President Biden’s upcoming Supreme Court nomination. And President Reagan’s nomination of Sandra Day O’Connor, way back. And other things. When should race, ethnicity, or sex come into play? An interesting question, or set of questions. I believe my column has enough to please, and tick off, everybody.

Before I get to some mail, let me cite a column by Will Saletan: “What I Learned in 25 Years of Writing for Slate.” Saletan is leaving Slate for The Bulwark. He wrote for NR once, back in 1998: about the Lewinsky scandal. (Children, you can ask your grandparents about that.)

Something in his recent piece sparked a memory in me. Let me quote him:

Looking back over my work at Slate, I can no longer count the topics I misjudged or the pieces I screwed up. Some are quite embarrassing, but every one of them taught me something. “Why Bush Is Toast,” which I wrote in September 2000 (spoiler: he wasn’t), taught me that I’m good at rationalizing predictions I hope will come true . . .

Near the end of that campaign, in 2000, I took a six-week leave of absence from NR to assist the Bush team. I would have another foray into presidential politics in the 2016 cycle. I think I am now retired from politics (unless someone wants to draft me). (Note to my detractors: Rest easy, that was a joke.) (Note to my non-detractors: Was it?)

I arrived at Bush headquarters in Austin the day Will Saletan’s article came out. One of the guys said to me, “Your memoir of the campaign could be titled ‘From Toast to . . .’” He thought for a second and then thrust his hand out, as if holding a glass of champagne: “‘. . . Toast!’”

The title doesn’t work, even in this little blogpost, because it’s a visual thing. Still: I smile at the memory.

All right, maybe just one piece of mail, because it’s the beginning of the week and you’ve got to get going.

In an Impromptus last week, I quoted J.D. Vance, the GOP Senate candidate in Ohio. Accepting the endorsement of Marjorie Taylor Greene, the congresswoman from Georgia, he said, “Honored to have Marjorie’s endorsement. We’re going to win this thing and take the country back from the scumbags.” This put me in mind of President Trump, who liked to call people “human scum,” among other things. For example, he tweeted about his Republican critics (few as they were), “Watch out for them, they are human scum!”

Anyway, a reader writes,

Good morning, Mr. Nordlinger,
Always a treat to ricochet around issues substantial and mundane with you in your Impromptus. Most every column stirs me to think, “Yeah! I get that.” (For example, my wife loathes “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift, but it juices my amps. Opposites attract?)
You caught my ear when speaking of “scum.” I am a retired USAF fighter pilot (F-16), and we Air Force pilots seldom select macho nicknames for our compadres like the Navy does. When it came time for my naming, what would go more naturally with Pond (my last name) than “Scum”? In short order, my first name disappeared altogether. All knew me as “Scum.” Once, a member of my squadron called my home (back in the days of phones anchored to walls), and my wife answered. She heard silence on the other end, and then she heard him call out, with his hand over the receiver, “Does anyone know what Scum’s first name is?”

Good one. Thank you to one and all. Again, for today’s Impromptus, go here.