My Impromptus today is stuffed with people, in addition to issues. (Often, people and issues cannot be disentangled.) The people include Tiger Woods, Sarah Palin, Bill Clinton, Donald Trump, Pope Francis, Grover Cleveland, Jimmy Carter, Elon Musk, and Johnny Miller. That’s a nice, motley line-up.

Speaking of Tiger, a friend of mine sent me a note on coverage of the Masters. My friend is a professional golfer, and one of his specialties is dyspeptic prose. Have this sample:

Cannot believe my eyes and ears, and I had very low expectations. Scott Van Pelt, Josh Allen, and Dwyane Wade are Masters broadcasters now, talking about themselves, their phones, which celebrities they know. I do not recall that 1980 coverage was Soupy Sales and Joe Ferguson. Shut up and show [ever-lovin’] golf shots! Every sentence uttered begins, “Yeah, I mean,” and ends with, “right?” Why don’t we have J-Lo and Affleck for the back nine?

Heh.

Andrew Kidd writes,

Dear Jay:

What are some of the most notable moments you have had, when a composer, performer, or writer has responded to a review of yours? The reason I’m asking is, I recently reviewed Quentin Tarantino’s book Cinema Speculation, and not long afterwards . . . well, just look at who commented.

Yup. Quentin T. Go here. I have nothing to top, or match, that.

Oh, hang on, I just remembered. A famous pianist — magnificent but meshugge — tried to get me banned from the Salzburg Festival. (No dice.)

In an Impromptus last month, I had the following:

Several nights ago, I was talking with the host at one of my favorite diners. He is a wonderful host, a sheer, genial professional. He was telling me that customers have changed in recent years. “People are so nasty. They talk to you like they’re tweeting.”

A friend of mine responds,

Re the behavior of people in restaurants: My kid sister has been in that game since Carter was president. Her view is that people are as they always have been. She says that there was a “golden moment” when things opened up after COVID when everyone was so thankful to be out and about again that people acted as they are capable of acting. Sadly, that ship has sailed.

My sister blames most restaurant rudeness on cellphones. “You’ve got six people, all with their cellphones on the table, texting and scrolling and not listening to me. ‘Hello, I’m trying to serve you.’”

I can see it all.

In that Impromptus last month, I cited and hailed a piece by Eli Saslow in the New York Times. It is a report on homelessness in Phoenix — the effects of the problem on business, and of course on the homeless themselves. If there is an anthology a hundred years from now, seeking to illuminate America in the 2020s, Saslow’s piece will belong. It is a stunning piece of work.

A reader says,

I have tears streaming down my cheeks. Heartbreaking, on all sides. Gratitude is top of my mind: to have a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back. I am humbled.

Toward the end of an Impromptus published about two weeks ago, I had this item:

Along the Hudson River, in New York, a flock of birds took off from a plaza. I mean, boom: Something got them flying. And they flew right over the head of a “street person.” Almost clipped him, in fact. He went, “Whoa. Did you see that?” I had. I said something like, “They knew to steer clear of you, though!”

He then said, with a big smile and a sense of theater — also a sense of the Bible — “A thousand shall fall at my side, and ten thousand at my right hand. But it shall not come nigh me.”

A reader writes,

I read that (Psalm 91) each morning to start my day! (We need all the help we can get.)

Press on.

Which reminds me of a favorite hymn: “Press on, dear traveler, press thou on.”

Thank you to one and all readers and correspondents.