Word: barstools
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Half an hour later, I’m slouching by myself on a barstool at Cambridge Common, baseball cap pulled low and tucked under the dark hood of my sweatshirt. Amy, the cheerful bartender, asks for my ID and I hand over my California license, which bears a picture of me as a beatific, long-haired sixteen year-old girl. Amy looks back at me with an arched eyebrow and, remembering Starecheski’s advice, I bark, “Brooklyn Lager.” A sufficiently manly pint...
...from coffee pots to vacuum cleaners. But aluminum seems to find its most frequent expression as seating. There's an eclectic range of chairs in the Design Museum show, including Mies van der Rohe's Barcelona chair, designs by Charles and Ray Eames, and Philippe Starck's pale green barstool made for German film director Wim Wenders' house. The most eye-catching is Australian Marc Newson's Lockheed Lounge, a sensuous plastic shape covered with riveted aluminum panels. The metal has even worked its way into fashion. Spanish design iconoclast Paco Rabanne made a 1968 minidress from aluminum rectangles held...
...President, were elected with 80 to 90 percent of the vote - the airwaves roil with right-wing rant from WOR's Bob Grant, WABC's Sean Hannity and Steve Malzberg. And in this weird election week, when pundits were as befuddled as that guy on the next barstool, the talk on Right Radio had the fervid certitude of true believers. George W. Bush is the voice of pure reason; Al Gore, says a caller to Grant's show, is the latest tyrant in a "pure dictatorship." ("We're on the same wavelength," Bizarro Bob replies...
...told us that he'd almost been married but broke off the engagement. He said it was to be a half-million-dollar wedding.... At the end of the night, after his barstool curiously slipped out from beneath him and he almost fell to the floor, he wrote his e-mail, phone number and address on a napkin. He said he lived in the Village I think but I've thrown out the napkin. By the way, at one point in he night I'd asked him for his card. He said he wasn't carrying any with...
Jones, on the other hand, hardly found the voice of Chekhov. Amply filling out his suit, perched on a barstool, Jones sat stumbling over Russian place names, Of course, the reading was rehearsed only once, but surely Jones could have learned his pronunciation. His physical and iconic presence did not actually detract from his performance, and in fact his Texas accent suited the gruff, serious and asexual Chekhov as much as it distracted. His delivery, on the other hand, was just flat. One had the feeling that Jones is an actor for active, visual roles and that sitting...