Word: barroom
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...assume that The Story of Mrs. Murphy is simply "another" novel about a drunk. They are quite right. Distinguished by nothing except low-grade prose and high-grade intentions, it is probably the worst novel of its kind since the days of T. S. (Ten Nights in a Barroom) Arthur...
...front on the bandstand, his chunky bulk overlapping a fragile barroom chair, sat Sidney, his shiny golden saxophone in hand. Behind was Lloyd Phillips, grinning at an upright piano with its insides laid bare. A Neolithic-looking fellow named Freddie Moore stared glumly at his drums. Lloyd began patting it out and Freddie picked up the beat. Then old Sidney started. The other members of the trio had sense enough to stay out of Sidney...
...tavern keeper is convinced that white and colored persons cannot sit side-by-side in a barroom without running amok, let him learn that his patrons do not share this feeling. Let him learn that sound business practices do not run counter to the type of idealism that gathers all races together in a Harvard classroom, on a Harvard athletic field, and in a Harvard House. If he is worried about fights, let him learn that the real fight comes not when students sit down to drink, but when a student cannot feel the freedom of joining his friends...
Those who desire Coop service, will have to do their own a little longer, according to G. E. Cole, manager. Said Cole yesterday: "We are taking the maximum. It reminds me of the sign in the barroom, 'Don't blame the piano-player, he's doing the best he can.' I'm hoping that by slow attrition things will get down to normal...
Back in pioneer Oregon of 1856-ah, those were the days!-life was chock-full of excitement: barroom brawling, gunplay, gold prospecting, gambling, whizzing tommyhawks and flaming arrows, sudden romance and sudden death. Canyon Passage has all this and more-plus better-than-average dialogue and competent players (Dana Andrews, Susan Hayward, Brian Donlevy, Britain's Patricia Roc). Gnome-faced Hoagy Carmichael wanders lazily through the busy plot, picking his mandolin and singing four catchy, near-frontier ballads that he composed for the occasion. Technicolor works pure magic with the ires, the fist fights, trie Redmen, the pretty girls...