Word: breath
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Sport is too often a cruel reminder of life's diminishing returns. Fans watch an aging hitter's creaky swing, or a runner's lethargy on the base paths, or a pitcher's loss of velocity and feel the beer breath of mortality on their own necks. Nolan Ryan, whom sportswriter Thomas Boswell has called "the Act of God," is the wondrous exception to this melancholy rule. The Texas Ranger hurler is 43 years old now, and he has more major league records than candles on his next birthday cake...
Hollywood is holding its breath, waiting to measure the box-office potential of Warren Beatty's $30 million Dick Tracy, which opened last weekend. But the film community's anxiety has not stopped movie moguls from laying plans to bring more comic characters to the screen...
...takes more than half an hour to peel off the gauze, dab antiseptic on the livid flesh, and replace the bandages. Tor Kham, who never says a word, grows paler. When the procedure is over, he takes a moment, really no more than a deep breath, then places a hand on the boy's lips to silence him. His hand falls to the boy's chest and lingers there, an offer of consolation. After another nurse arrives and administers morphine, the boy drifts to sleep. His brother pulls the blanket back over his bandages...
Readers of Scott Turow's previous blockbuster, Presumed Innocent, will know better than to hold their breath for answers. Turow, a lawyer who has kept jurors as well as readers on the edge of their chairs, has a preternatural knack for drawing out the suspense. The gimmick in Presumed Innocent was to follow the mystery through the eyes of the accused murderer, Rusty Sabich, a public prosecutor on trial for the murder of an amorous colleague. The intimate narrative device ensured reader sympathy, even though Sabich waited until the final pages to tell all he knew about the corpus delectable...
...passion of Spanish flamenco. Under the Franco dictatorship, the dances were banned as subversive evidence of Catalan nationalism. But now, on Sunday afternoons, they are as ubiquitous as barbershop quartets at Iowa county fairs. "They're a sign of our identity," says Joan Anglada, a furniture salesman, pausing for breath...