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...weeks ago, indeed, a fed-up Umberto tried to quit in protest against a government-imposed labor contract that he considered the last straw. Umberto himself had asked Italy's Socialist Labor Minister Luigi Bertoldi to medi ate a three-month-old strike and slow down among Fiat's 200,000 workers...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: ITALY: Fiat on the Skids | 4/1/1974 | See Source »

Almost Hysterical. Until she began keeping charts for the Jordan-Levitz clinic, Esther Rich, a 29-year-old Philadelphia housewife, never realized that she ate a little something, usually candy, every two hours. As a remedy, Levitz suggested that she stretch the time between snacks little by little. "The first time I tried it I was almost hysterical," Rich confesses. "I was only able to wait 20 minutes. The second time I distracted myself by calling someone on the telephone." After-dinner snacking in the kitchen was a particular problem. Now Rich washes her dinner dishes in the morning...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Behavior: The Eater's Digest | 3/25/1974 | See Source »

...Ford ate with and spoke to the Republicans at the Sheraton that night, a crowd of about 500 demonstrators gathered outside, chanting "No more years." In the Constitution Ballroom, where the vice president feasted, the shouts could not be heard...

Author: By Richard J. Meislin, | Title: Innocent? Only Time Will Tell | 3/16/1974 | See Source »

...padre and I had lunch together that afternoon. We ate slowly in the patio of the small adobe restaurant, for the day was already hot. I wanted to ask him about the religious beliefs of the campesinos. I mentioned the dioramas and icons I had noticed in the church...

Author: By Michael Massing, | Title: Bolivia | 3/4/1974 | See Source »

...more difficult. In any case, I do remember that with each mouthful of grilled meat, salty potatoes, and watery corn, I experienced what the Bolivians call una revolucion del estomago. The weak electric light that hung above us cast a pale glow on the oily table where we ate. Ray was reserved as usual, so I was unable to determine if he was aware of the depths to which I was rapidly plunging. After he had finished his bottle of beer, we got up and walked out into the street. El padre walked ahead, with his firm resolute step...

Author: By Michael Massing, | Title: Bolivia | 2/25/1974 | See Source »

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