In Impromptus today, I have occasion to tell a story I’ve long loved. In return, a reader sent in an analogous story. Okay, here’s mine (and ’tis true): Marion Barry and Greg Norman meet at a party. Barry is the mayor of Washington, D.C.; Norman is the No. 1 golfer in the world, and one of its most recognizable athletes. Barry says, “What do you do?” Norman says, “I play golf.” Barry answers, “Oh, that’s great, I play tennis.”

And the reader’s story? Chaliapin (the great Russian bass) is in a cab. The driver says, “And what do you do, sir?” Chaliapin replies, “I sing.” The cabbie: “Well, we all sing, especially when drunk, but I mean, what do you do for a living?”

Do you know the one about the soprano captured in the Far Pacific by cannibals? She says, “You can’t kill me and eat me, I’m a soprano.” The chief says, “Oh, yeah? Prove it. If you are, we’ll let you go. Sing something.” The soprano says, “What? Sing something? Without my jewels, without my gown, without my fee?”

The chief, acknowledging her sopranohood, lets her go.