Word: bearding
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...considers suicide something he would probably regret the day afterward if the opportunity presented itself. And our friend is probably at least partially right about the transience of emotions, because we can recall the years when reindeer had velvet noses and every Santa Claus had a soft and downy beard. There were the times gone by when candy canes weren't sticky and decorations never fell from the Christmas tree. But that was a long time ago. For now the Salvation Army seems a depressing crew and the snow flakes seem to make the world a muddy mess rather than...
Shoes & Songs. He quickly proved that he had not forgotten his Punjabi mother tongue nor his Sikh traditions. Entering holy temples, he took off his shoes, tied a kerchief around his head (to compensate for the absence of his long-shorn Sikh beard), hugged bewhiskered Sikhs with greetings of Sat Sri Akal (God Is Truth), sang devotional songs and quoted Sikh scriptures (while his U.S.-born wife and daughter, sari-clad, observed custom by sitting with the women in congregations...
...said his name was George, and he had a beard. He seemed to be a Leader, for the others listened to his words, and nodded when he paused. After a mustard tomato on rye with a dash of carrot sauce, he loosened up and began to speak...
...luncheon for Mohammed V at Anderson House. Then he rushed to the Capitol, tried to get in a few minutes of undisturbed work in his unnumbered Capitol office. He realized that he had better get shaved for another dinner with Mohammed V (Nixon's heavy blue beard, the delight of cartoonists, was showing five o'clock shadow). He made one of his rare visits to the Senate gymnasium, shaved, showered and stepped on the scales. His weight: 166, down 20 Ibs. in two years by grace of careful calorie counting...
...downtown San Francisco and all along the Bohemian strip known as North Beach, other poets and hipsters were gigging together to the raucous applause of the city's beard-and-sandal set. The poetry was usually poor and the jazz was worse, but nobody seemed to care. Record business was being done by dim little jazz spots such as the Sail'N and the Black Hawk-the Taj Mahal of West Coast jazz, where Dave Brubeck blew himself to fame. And at the Tin Angel, on the waterfront, Trumpeter Dick Mills and his combo were playing with...