Word: braggadocios
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Died. Bobo Newsom, 55, showboating South Carolina-born major-league pitcher for 24 years, whose roundhouse skill on the mound (211 victories for nine different clubs) was matched only by his foghorn braggadocio; of intestinal hemorrhage; in Orlando, Fla. Born Louis Norman Newsom, he always referred to himself and everyone else as "Bobo,'' drove around in a custom-built car with a two-tone bobo horn and his name in gold leaf a foot high on the dashboard. He was magnetic to baseballs, at various times broke his thumb, his kneecap, his leg. Pitching against the Yankees...
Curiously enough, the fuller and more logical account of the incident came from a Soviet diplomat in India, who said that the pilot was a Nationalist Chinese who had trained for six years in the U.S. By way of deflating Red China's braggadocio, he added that a flame-out had forced the U-2 far below its maximum working altitude of above 80,000 ft., enabling the Chinese to shoot it down. The Russian denied that it was shot down by Soviet-supplied ground-to-air missiles, though Formosa's U-2s reportedly fly over an IRBM...
Castro's own braggadocio has somewhat brightened the chances of a joint stand against him at Punta del Este. Before he made his boast, such pivotal Latin American leaders as Argentina's President Arturo Frondizi were dead set against anything-even mere disapproval-that could be construed as intervention. Last week, at Palm Beach on his way home from a world tour, Frondizi wound up 1½ hours of talk with President Kennedy with an agreement that some action should come out of the Uruguay conference...
...while a more venturesome lad may persuade a girl to meet him furtively in the "family room" of a coffee shop, where the daring couple can engage in the temple-pounding excitement of holding hands. More often, even an invitation to a coffeehouse is nothing but male braggadocio. Says one Karachi coed: "I know of several instances where a girl suddenly accepted such an invitation and the poor embarrassed fellow didn't know what...
...away" without so much as consulting young Arthur. The inordinate attention lavished by Mrs. Bartley (Marsha Hunt) on her daughter's approaching marriage, plus the prosaic preoccupations of these prosaic parents, drives young Arthur to a basement escape with his contemporaries, where furtive beers foam up into braggadocio, cigarettes mingle with clumsy sex experiments, and draw poker alternates with the raw pathos that gives the picture its fleeting moments of real feeling. It is only in the quiet, anxious scenes of awakening love that Director-Co-Writer Philip Dunne manages to capture the pains and confusion of adolescence...