Word: boye
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Apartheid doesn't seem real until you are forced to recognize it; the 18 million blacks who live in South Africa barely intrude on the white outsider's consciousness, until you hear a liberal white South African talk about the boy who tends the garden and realize the boy is 50 years old. Or a friendly Afrikaaner tells you, "We built this country," adding proudly, "If it wasn't for us, there would be nothing here but huts"--refusing to recognize that it was cheap black labor that did the building. Or a liberal white says, "Really...
...Middelburg, a small town outside Pretoria, two small boys run up to wash the windows of the car, hoping to get a few cents for their efforts. They wipe the window furiously with a cloth only slightly more ragged than their clothes; this five cents means a lot to them. Times are bad now for black South Africans. Unemployment has reached an all-time high, though no one has exact figures; and there is no minimum wage for most of the jobs blacks can do. 80 per cent of black South Africans fall below the poverty datum line, the absolute...
...current production of Frank Loesser's How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, an early-'60s paean to the knucklehead glory of girl-watching and "getting ahead," recreates the innocence of that time with an enjoyable, if sometimes unfocused, energy. Moving through the standard '60s-musical formula of boy-meets-girl, boy-and-girl-fall-in-love, boy-and-girl-fall-out-of-love, and boy-beats-world-and-marries-girl -- all to the accompaniment of Loesser's slick score -- the Kirkland House cast manages to create a fun evening in the face of some almost overwhelming obstacles...
...even walk on the moon." Marion Speich fantasized that there would be pushbutton telephones. Ah, but those that dreamed more down-to-earth dreams, how little they knew. "There might be a cure for cancer," thought Gail Lewis. And warmer winters in Buffalo were the vain hope of a boy named Francis...
...start, but picks up velocity and life (and more than a few deaths) as it moves along. McMurtry tosses off a few good Sam Spade-ish one-liners (an aging producer toasting in the poolside sun is a "ninety-year-old french fry"), and a pair of good-ole-boy screenwriters from Texas provide boisterous comic relief. McMurtry, who knows the Hollywood milieu firsthand, reveals a nice sense of place and trade. The celluloid scene has been done before; what McMurtry gives it-as he gave that sour Texas town in his The Last Picture Show-is a sense that...