Word: bib
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...talker could come up with. We are standing in my wood lot, surrounded by beechwood slash and camera cables. Since this is a carefully produced fantasy, I am wearing a DeKalb Seed Corn baseball cap, a green-and-black checked wool shirt, Ralph Lauren gum boots, and bib overalls with an alligator on the pocket.) "I see. Can you tell me, then, what you New Hampshire locals look for in a presidential candidate...
...beloved grouch and historic landmark, white-thatched Conductor Arthur Fiedler, 84, was climbing the podium to commence his 50th season as leader of the Boston Pops. More, Fiedler scarcely five months earlier had undergone massive brain surgery. The years and fears showed mainly in the fit of his bib: Fiedler ill had lost so much weight that Wife Ellen insisted on smaller tails from Brooks Brothers. Otherwise, things Pops-wise were the same, including a familiar hand-clapping, balloon-rising Stars and Stripes Forever finale...
Still, Sawhill was thinking in the right direction. The necktie-that vestigial bib, that morning noose-is a strange and sinister article of clothing. When a man feels ill, the first thing to do is loosen his tie; it is, after all, pressing against the carotid arteries, impeding the flow of blood to the brain. Practically, the necktie is as supererogatory as those little belts and buckles that used to adorn the backs of men's trousers. The tie has no function except to clean eyeglasses, and even that it does badly. It makes as much sense...
That's when I made my getaway. Up the stairs past the sleeping boneless chicken, past a bowl of goldfish knitting woolen sweaters, past a lobster wearing a bib that said "Kosher," and out into the yard, where I hid in six-foot tall blades of grass which were reading copies of Pravda. I made it to my car, but to my chagrin, it was being eaten--by the very dog whose invitation to whist I had foolishly declined earlier in the afternoon...
...Chatham, both for the farmers with their puny, drought-burned tobacco leaves and for the folks in the stores, which are hurting for customers. "Nowadays, you are lucky if you can farm, keep your place clean and pay your taxes," complains Frank Pierce, 56, an archetypal Southern farmer in bib overalls. He says that many farmers are turning to moonshine whisky to see them through. Even so, there is a basic optimism. "Folks can do all right," maintains Mayor Hairston...