Word: armchair
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...wandering Khrushchev. At 3 the others gathered somberly in the conference room at the Elysée Palace, which 200 years ago had been the dining salon of Madame de Pompadour. By then Khrushchev was back in Paris, but instead of sitting in the empty red plush armchair that was awaiting him, he was relaxing in a bathtub at the Soviet embassy...
...counter pay-TV partisans: the toll system will allow quality shows to find their own markets, should be able to cover for its paying armchair audiences many topnotch attractions that have been inaccessible to TV so far-opera at the Met, Broadway shows, first-run movies. Sarnoff's dismal prediction, say pay TV's supporters, merely represents a part of the networks' long lobbying against pay TV. Pay proponents have complained to the FCC that the networks have editorialized against them on the air, formulated a phony "grass roots" campaign to impress Congressmen, taunted kids with...
...week had their first chance to take a calm, studied look at the French achievement. Even the high commissioner of the French Atomic Energy Commission joined in the dispassionate stocktaking. Said trim, goateed Francis Perrin: "It [the explosion] gives us no more than a folding seat, and not an armchair, in the atomic club. One must not entwine the vain sense of glory around this experiment...
...Philharmonic Orchestra and Chorus (Jennifer Vyvyan, Monica Sinclair, Jon Vickers, Giorgio Tozzi; RCA Victor, 4 LPs, mono and stereo). His performance is the most opulent of the lot, the most animated-and by all odds the farthest from any thought in Handel's mind. In defiance of "drowsy armchair purists," Beecham offers a thunderously 19th century-styled orchestration-lush, richly colored, and full of dramatic contrasts. Soloists and chorus are uniformly fine, but the recording is not for listeners who take their Handel neat. Eugene Ormandy offers a severely cut reading (Eileen Farrell, Martha Lipton, Davis Cunningham, William Warfield...
...opens with a worried author asking a Scotland Yard acquaintance to check the whereabouts of ten men-and refusing, because of British diffidence and the exigencies of plot, to say why he needs the information. A few days later, the writer dies in a mid-ocean plane crash. To armchair hawkshaws, it will be as unmistakable as a corpse on a carpet that this is not coincidence. And when it turns out that most of the men on Adrian Messenger's list have died by violent accidents, even the authorities are clever enough to make the same deduction...