Questions of Color, &c.

On race in America; l’affaire Colbert; the secrets of running; a visitor from 1967; and more

Photo by Rineshkumar Ghirao on Unsplash

One of the delights of recent television is Black Jeopardy!, the recurring sketch on Saturday Night Live. (By recent, I mean within the last ten years.) It is funny, sharp, and occasionally kinda deep. Last week, the Algo—the algorithm—fed me this episode (if “episode” is the right word).

It features Elizabeth Banks, playing a contestant named Allison. (Ms. Banks is not black, and neither is Allison.) The host asks, “Allison, you know this is Black Jeopardy!, right?” (He emphasizes the word “black.”) Sweetly and cluelessly, Allison replies, “Oh, yeah. I dated a black guy once. So, I don’t see color, it’s just Jeopardy! to me.” The host says, “Okay, we’ll see how that goes.”

Great stuff.

I am very defensive about “colorblindness” and even, to a degree, “I don’t see color.” Let me explain.

In the middle of the 20th century, roughly speaking, “colorblindness” was a shining ideal. It did not mean, “Gee, I’m such a moron, I can’t tell who’s black and who’s white.” No, it meant: “We should not discriminate on the basis of race. The law should be colorblind. Hiring, admissions, contracting—it should all be colorblind. Human relations, to the extent possible, should be colorblind. We are all citizens, all human beings—all sons and daughters of God.”

At some point, “colorblindness” got equated with naivety and ignorance. When someone said, “I don’t see color,” he was mocked. But this is what he meant, in all likelihood: “I take people as people. Obviously, I realize that people have different experiences and understandings, owing to race and other factors. I’m not an idiot. But, basically, I take people as people.”

I love the idea of colorblindness, and always will, whether it’s cool or uncool.

(Maya Angelou said that, in her early days, she thought William Shakespeare must have been a little black girl, as she was. Otherwise, how could he understand her so well?) (I wrote about this issue—Angelou and Shakespeare—in 2015, here.)

***

I have been reading articles about Stephen Colbert, on whom CBS, or Paramount, the network’s parent company, has pulled the plug. I touched on this issue in my column on Friday.

The articles I have been reading tend to say, “I don’t like Colbert. He was one-sided, always picking on Republicans. You don’t alienate half your potential audience, you know. He deserved to be canceled.”

In my view, that is not the point, or the most important one. I don’t think a U.S. president, or the U.S. government, should be a player in entertainment television. And this is independent of whether I, personally, care for a particular performer.

A week ago, President Trump wrote,

The word is, and it’s a strong word at that, Jimmy Kimmel is NEXT to go in the untalented Late Night Sweepstakes and, shortly thereafter, Fallon will be gone. These are people with absolutely NO TALENT, who were paid Millions of Dollars for, in all cases, destroying what used to be GREAT Television. It’s really good to see them go, and I hope I played a major part in it!

Republicans and Democrats alike, I think, should look askance at this. In that column of mine on Friday, I wrote,

A president ought not to involve himself in every nook and cranny of American life. He is not a national boss or nanny. There should be a private sphere, an apolitical sphere, a non-governmental sphere.

Conservatives taught me this long ago. They were right, I believe (as about virtually everything.)

You may know an old expression: “the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral.” (Sometimes this is lengthened to: “the baby at every christening, the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral.”) This, a president need not be, should not be.

A White House spokesman said, “Thanks to President Trump, the days of political correctness and cancel culture are over.” I’m not sure that is true. Political correctness and cancel culture are very, very tempting to people on both sides. (I can tell you this from my own experience, with the two sides.)

***

Since the late 1970s, I have been consuming news about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I have done a fair amount of reporting myself. Never have I had a harder time knowing what is true—harder than now.

I wonder whether others feel the same way.

***

The foreign minister of Singapore used a very interesting phrase—in reference to the United States: “magnanimous hegemon.” Let me give you the context: “What is happening now in the world is that the magnanimous hegemon has changed its posture.”

That is an apt, even an inspired, way to describe the United States from the end of World War II until recently: “magnanimous hegemon.” (Our “posture” has been in our interest, too, I believe.)

(I should mention that Singapore’s prime minister is Dr. Vivian Balakrishnan.) (We call him “Dr.” because he used to practice ophthalmology.) (So did Bashar Assad.) (Don’t hold that against the Singaporean.)

***

Within a week of each other, I read obits of two fabled track coaches: Bill Dellinger and Joe Vigil. I would like to quote a passage from each obit.

First:

Dellinger preached moderation in training. He told Runner’s World magazine in 1980: “Most runners have the false impression that the more miles they can run, the better they’re going to be. Mileage is beneficial only to a certain point, and once that’s reached, it becomes damaging. I do think holding a runner back is what the true art of coaching is about.”

Second (re Coach Vigil):

He expected his runners to be dedicated, even when they did not feel up to training. Pat Melgares, who ran for him at Adams State in the 1980s and later wrote his biography, said in an interview that a favorite saying of his was “What day do you run? Every day that ends in a ‘y.’”

Not necessarily did Coaches Dellinger and Vigil hold different views. It may well be a question of emphasis. Dellinger might have believed: “Don’t overdo it. But run every day. Just the right amount of miles.”

I would like to hear from running cognoscenti on this subject (mail@jaynordlinger.com).

***

Cleo Laine was an astonishing—positively astonishing—singer. She had a wonderful, distinctive voice, a formidable technique, and tremendous versatility. She was almost styleless. Oh, she had style—style out of her ears. What I mean is: She could sing in virtually any genre, any style.

The great Cleo has died at 97. (To read her obit in the Times—the New York Times—go here.)

Let me suggest a video—this one. It shows Cleo performing with her husband, the saxophonist and bandleader John Dankworth. They’re doing “Crazy Rhythm,” from the 1928 musical Here’s Howe.

***

Tom Lehrer, like Cleo Laine, has died at 97. Man, was he smart—a brilliant mathematician and a natural songwriter. When was the last time you listened to “Alma”? This is Lehrer’s ballad about Alma Mahler (who, besides marrying Gustav Mahler, married Walter Gropius and Franz Werfel). (She got around.)

***

Years ago, at the Salzburg Festival, I met Wasfi Kani, the British opera impresario. She is one of the most singular people I have ever encountered. Compelling, unforgettable. I’m tempted to use the cliché “force of nature.”

For the Financial Times, John Phipps has written a profile of her: here. This profile transcends journalism into something more like literature.

***

Wanna see a sweet, sweet Datsun? It was on a street in Harlem. A product of 1967 (according to its owner).

Well, that’ll do it, for now. My very best to you, dear readers.