Word: bathtubfuls
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...stable in Amman, where Palestinian commandos and Jordanian troops were battling in the streets. Stray mortar, small-arms and machine-gun fire pummeled the Jordan Intercontinental Hotel, which functioned as a journalists' headquarters in the capital. Scott, an old hand in Amman, knew all the survival rules. "The bathtub is the safest place to bed down for the night," he says. "But when the mortars start, the corridor is recommended." Visitors, he adds, are invariably "amazed at the hotel's capacity to absorb fire during the night and pick up next morning as if nothing had happened. They...
...died in space. The Americans sent up a monkey which lived. Yuri Gagarin (now dead) circled the world. Gus Grissom (now dead) let his capsule sink in the Atlantic. The fair-haired boy, John Glenn, was such a good astronaut that he went into politics and slipped in a bathtub...
...Bathtub Grass. Though marijuana law enforcement now costs California alone more than $72 million worth of police and court time each year, Kaplan notes that the busts have not decreased use of the drug. The law has little effect on the unstable and heedless users who are most likely to become serious marijuana abusers or go on to hard drugs. By lumping marijuana with hallucinogens, amphetamines, barbiturates and heroin, in fact, the law encourages young people to distrust warnings about those far more perilous substances. Pot prohibition gives sporadic users the stigma of criminal records and makes young people cynical...
...more dangerous substitutes or to grow their own. One British manufacturer already turns out a hydroponic unit capable of producing 400 tons of cattle food per year in a space the size of a garage; Kaplan claims that a similar device could be adapted to pot cultivation. Bathtub grass, he suggests, is as inevitable as bathtub...
Pifer puts it this way: "When morning comes with the soldiery abed and tangled in a heap, the bathtub gin drained, leaving only a rosy residue of secretaries in half-slips, when the muddy colonel in the geranium bush is dragged indoors by dawn's first Negro to sleep it off in the vestibule under a smashed grandfather clock, when first brightness crashes through ripped drapes into the dehydrated eyes of snockered politicos, lobbyists in underpants, Pentagon sources and the secret police, when the hands that guide our collective destiny reach to kill the screams of the alarm clock...