On Martin Short, Queen Victoria, William F. Buckley Jr., Jeff Daniels, Al Kaline, Marian Anderson, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Jefferson, and more
For reasons we could get into, there has been a lot of chatter about Martin Short in recent days. (Someone wrote a negative piece about him, and a lot of others rose to his defense.) Short, as you know, is one of the leading comedic actors of our time. Midst the chatter, I learned something about him that I found exceptionally touching.
He was married to Nancy Dolman from 1980 until her death in 2010. Two years later, Short was on the Today show, and his interviewer, Kathie Lee Gifford, did not know that his wife had died. “You and Nancy have got one of the greatest marriages of anybody in show business,” said Kathie Lee. “How many years for you guys?” Short said 36. (He must have included the years they had dated.) Kathie Lee said, “But you’re still, like, in love?” Short said, “Madly in love, madly in love.” On it went, for a bit.
Short did not mention, on air, that his wife had died — because he did not want to embarrass his interviewer. There’s a gent. A true gent.
Kevin D. Williamson likes to point out that having manners is not the same as knowing which fork to use. Manners, really, are a matter of making the other person feel comfortable. Kevin cites an episode from Queen Victoria’s life.
She hosted a maharaja and maharani from India (I believe). Toward the end of dinner, finger bowls were placed on the table. Not knowing what they were for, the maharani drank from hers. Nervous looks around the table. Victoria — possessed of outstanding manners — picked up her own finger bowl and duly drank from it: so that her guest would be none the wiser. So that her guest would be spared embarrassment.
Kevin also points out that William F. Buckley Jr. had outstanding manners. He knew which fork to use, all right. (So did Victoria.) But, even better, he knew how to make others comfortable.
(Incidentally, Pat Buckley, WFB’s wife, always had finger bowls as part of her dinners. When she passed away, WFB “canceled finger bowls,” as he put it.) (He also instituted the serving of chicken, which Pat did not like, or at least did not serve.)
One more thing: Years ago, I was on a television program with Martin Short. This was Bill Maher’s old show, and Short was the celebrity on the evening in question, and I was one of the non-celebs. Short could not have been more pleasant or amusing. His eyes sparkled. He seemed an enjoyer of fun — not just a provider of it but an enjoyer of it.
• Did you see this?
Invites sent by Indian President Droupadi Murmu calling herself “President of Bharat” for a dinner on the sidelines of the G20 summit have stirred speculation that the government may be about to change the country’s name.
I got to thinking: I grew up with “West Germany,” “East Germany,” “Yugoslavia,” “Czechoslovakia,” “the Ukraine,” “the Sudan,” “the Upper Volta,” etc. I think I have a few more changes left in me. But please — go easy. I’m so set in my ways, linguistic and otherwise . . .
• On the same day I was reading about Martin Short, I was reading about Jeff Daniels, the actor. He grew up in Chelsea, Mich., and still lives there. I grew up in nearby Ann Arbor. One day, when I was working at a golf course, Jeff came in to play. I thought that was pretty cool.
Anyway, as this article explains, Jeff has a new memoir called “Alive and Well Enough.” (Great title.) The memoir is not a book, as I understand it, but an “audio memoir” that Daniels describes as “a little bit like a one-man musical.”
Says the article,
Daniels in the third episode recalls revering Al Kaline, who played right field for the Detroit Tigers and made everything look easy. “Effortless takes a lot of work,” notes Daniels, who then talks about integrity and honor . . .
I’m not sure there was anyone more admired in the Detroit area when I was growing up than Kaline. Possibly Ernie Harwell, the Detroit Tigers’ radio announcer. But Kaline was No. 1, I believe. (After his playing career, he did TV commentary for Tiger games, working with George Kell, the lead announcer, our legendary third baseman.)
Another couple of lines from the article about Daniels:
He celebrates New York City as a place where innocence gets lost quickly.
“If you want a crash course in how to accept others for who they are, New York City is as good a place as any for that kind of transformation,” the 68-year-old performer says . . .
That is an interesting observation. Would stick in a lot of craws. But, honestly, what doesn’t?
• From Chelsea, Mich., to Chelsea the neighborhood in Manhattan. Yesterday, on my way to the golf range (at Chelsea Piers), I happened to pass this World War I memorial, depicting a doughboy: “To the Soldiers and Sailors of Chelsea”:
• Halleloo, I thought, when I saw this headline: “How Did Vanilla Become a Byword for Blandness?” (Article here.) Vanilla is one of the most marvelous flavors in all the world. That it is a synonym for blandness is nuts.
(My apologies to nuts.)
I once knew the owner of an ice-cream parlor. His favorite flavor was vanilla. But he also said that vanilla was the ultimate test of any parlor, or ice-cream–maker.
One more thing, before I leave this subject. I would like to quote an article I wrote in 2012, about Senator Rob Portman:
“Vanilla,” they say. Portman is “vanilla.” What a bizarre putdown, in more ways than one. First, as I’ve said before, vanilla is one of the best and most beloved flavors in the world! Any yogurt-buyer knows there’s a big difference between plain and vanilla. Couple of months ago, I was in the grocery store, hurrying, and mistakenly picked up plain instead of vanilla. After the first bite, I almost curdled and died.
Good thing I never exaggerate . . .
• In Washington, D.C., last week, I passed an ice-cream truck — weren’t we just talking about ice cream? — that played the first few bars of “The Entertainer” over and over again. It is a wonderful piece. But I don’t see how the driver, or operator, keeps from killing himself.
• On the Mall, glassed up, was a ’52 Porsche. Thing of beauty, right?
• Here is Marian Anderson — “The Lady from Philadelphia” — sculpted by vanessa german:
(You recall that the great contralto sang on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939 — on Easter Sunday — after the Daughters of the American Revolution refused to let her sing before an integrated audience in Constitution Hall, a short distance from the memorial.)
• I love visiting this man. I feel, somehow, that we are friends, though I know him and he doesn’t know me. I bet that millions of others feel the same.
So grateful for him — both as a thinker-writer and as a statesman, i.e., a practitioner, a politician.
• Another visit, with another president, and another thinker-writer plus politician:
Thomas Jefferson spoke and wrote millions of words. Some of them are shudder-making. You can quote Jefferson to make a range of cases or points. Nonetheless . . .
When I was a kid, I thought the inscriptions on the Jefferson Memorial were something like American Scripture. And, you know? I still do.
“I have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.”
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, that to secure these rights governments are instituted among men.”
“No man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship or ministry or shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief, but all men shall be free to profess and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion.”
“. . . I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just, that his justice cannot sleep forever. Commerce between master and slave is despotism. Nothing is more certainly written in the book of fate than these people are to be free.”
(You may have noticed that the quotation from the Declaration of Independence is slightly different from what we have in the declaration as we know it. It is from Jefferson’s draft.)
• I love the White House (whoever the occupant happens to be). I think it is a perfect executive mansion in our republic. It is not like Versailles but it is not overly austere either. It is handsome and stately. I regard it as a total success, both architecturally and mentally, if you will (philosophically).
• Standing in front of a hotel near Union Station, I was hustled by a man named Malcolm. He then walked into the intersection, to petition drivers stopped at the light. A police car drove by with an officer saying over the loudspeaker, “Get out the street, Malcolm!”
• A little language, before we go? I am regularly seeing the phrase “false smear.” But smears are false, by definition. To say “false smear” is like saying “untrue lie.”
• On the first anniversary of 9/11 — back in 2002 — I spoke at a conference in Salonika, Greece. The theme of the conference was “September 11: Media and Terrorism.” We published my remarks here at National Review Online: “Change and Determination.”
I wish you all the best. Thanks for joining me. Later on.
If you would like to receive Impromptus by e-mail — links to new columns — write to jnordlinger@nationalreview.com.