Word: bags
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...American in Venice cannot help feeling marginal, neither sharing in the borderless bounty of the E.C. nor joining the Japanese in their shopping-bag odyssey of the great boutiques of Europe. But then an Italian newsstand beckons -- and suddenly it's the American Century all over again. Who is that carefully coiffed blond woman staring intently from the cover of a glossy Italian magazine? A Roman film star? Princess Di? No, it's Hillary Clinton. Newspaper headlines in four languages refer familiarly to a global personality instantly recognizable as just plain "Bill...
...Hyung Kim '93, an L.A. native who majors in Afro-American Studies and sociology, spoke yesterday at a brown bag luncheon in the Lyman Common Room...
...small acts at the margin. Who knows? If Richard Nixon hadn't dressed the White House guards like Prussian police, he might have survived Watergate. There would have been no need for the fashion-obsessed Nancy Reagan to debase herself at a Gridiron Club dinner dressed up like a bag lady in hand-me-downs if the East Wing had not declared a tablecloth crisis and ordered new hand-painted china inscribed "Nancy" the minute she moved in. George Bush got most of the symbols right, except for the pork rinds and country music. Like not inhaling, those proclivities, even...
...longer just a regular guy, except perhaps to Hillary, and even she may want you to act presidential now. A little toasting your own English muffins and carrying your own garment bag go a long way. The costs of the White House are fixed, and few people begrudge you the luxury as long as you don't go around complaining about the problems of life in a fishbowl. When most Americans have company, they put on airs, and so should you. Just as only Nixon could go to China, you can get away with serving fine cuisine and vintage wines...
...said the parent in disgust. Then he led the terrified boy down to the cellar, handcuffed his arms over a rafter, turned off the light and shut the door. Mark dangled in silence for hours. "God forbid if I cried," he recalls. "I was just like a hanging Everlast bag, you know? Punch me, punch me." When Mark was nine, his father held the boy's hand over a red-hot burner as punishment for moving a book of matches on a bureau. And when he was 15, his dad, angered by a long-distance phone bill, stuck...