Word: belt
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...former Democrats. He sees voting strength in the suburbanites who flee the cities when the blacks move in. He would plow the Midwestern blue-collar enclaves, where white lower-middle-class voters fear economic competition from ambitious blacks. Special emphasis would be given to what he calls the "sun belt"-prospering areas such as Florida, Texas, Arizona and California-where middle-class whites cherish their freshly earned fortunes...
...Juan Carlos underwent intensive schooling in military and political arts. He holds the ranks of captain in the army and air force and the equivalent grade of full lieutenant in the navy. He is a jet-fighter and helicopter pilot, an Olympic yachtsman, an accomplished horseman and a black-belt karate expert. He is fluent in five languages (Spanish, French, English, Italian and Portuguese) and conversant in Greek and German...
...would pay $1,480 for a crocodile handbag? Or $1,150 for a solid gold-mesh belt? Or $500 for a three-piece set of calf luggage? Those who would-and do-constitute the glittering clientele of Gucci, the Florentine leather company that offers fancy quality at fancy prices. Before flying off to wed Aristotle Onassis, Jacqueline Kennedy stopped at Gucci's Manhattan shop to select a brown crocodile handbag. Darryl Zanuck had Gucci copy his favorite 30-year-old valise, and Capucine bought a leather dog carrier. Frank Sinatra recently sent his secretary to pick up a pair...
...police appeared in the aisle. They hand cuffed Dudley, a descendant of the founder of Cambridge, a Harvard Law School alumnus and currently a United Church of Christ official. He was hustled off the plane, taken to a police station and booked for disturbing the peace. Police took his belt, glasses, comb and watch, then jailed him for two hours. "I thought they were joking," said Dudley, but he knew that they were not when one cop told him: "You be careful of what you say or we'll send you to a state insane asylum for 30 days...
...belt broke outside a town called Monroe, Georgia. No one in town had a fan belt that could fit anything but American cars. (Even Volkswagens were virtually unknown in the South about five years ago.) So we wound up in a Phillips 66 station with a kid trying on all different sized belts until one fit. It took a long time. It also happens that this was the gathering spot of the local youths. In about ten minutes they all came pouring into the gas station with their GTO's and motorcycles. They were looking in at the engine...