Word: beaches
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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There are approximately 126 little magazines in America today--small circulation, less advertising, and long editorial introductions. North Beach and Greenwich Village provide the bulk, with the ballast variously composed of universities, small Southern towns, and writers' colonies in Arizona and New Mexico. Most of the little magazines are part of a post-war inflation for the avant garde. In the general confusion which gave culture the Beat, Silent, Sad, Brown, and Breathless Generations, art and intellectual vomit (the boundary has been transgressed) have prospered if not much improved...
...better moods he tours bookshops, or inspects unframed reproductions. (In his room in Adams House Harold has mounted a picture of Dover Beach--clipped from an insurance ad--on the laundry cardboard from his button-down shirts.) Occasonally he wanders to the river, looking for dandelions--the universal symbol of simple innocence and purity. More often, he stands before the plate-glass display of Cardullo's--with a libidinous twitch at the Italian sausage...
...begin to see him without too much imagination; a dollar a day and you have bought your way into the conspiracy against him. But then, you wouldn't know about that. In your Bermuda shorts and crewneck sweater, your sweat socks and white tennis shoes and Jones Beach...
...from New York, who can fly to San Juan for $45, clack in their clogs through the lobbies of the Caribe Hilton and the new San Juan Intercontinental hotels. Twenty miles west of the capital, richer visitors will soon be able to loaf at Laurance Rockefeller's Dorado Beach Hotel, now abuilding, and golf under Pro Ed Dudley at the Robert Trent Jones course. "There is a great atmosphere of construction, vitality, change," says Roger Baldwin, who advises Puerto Rico on civil liberties, "and a great sense of leadership...
Those who failed to foresee anything twinkly in such summer-budget grist could always retire to the beach with their radios. But they would also have to remember that, when replacement time comes in TV, fall is not far behind. If they listened very keenly, they could even now hear a dominant, ominous sound of autumn-the greatest thunder of hoofbeats ever to rumble across the land...