Word: browed
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...presidential in his dark blue suit, so much in contrast with the work-clothed audience. He was polite, deferential, but very much in charge. Things are out of control at home and abroad, he fairly shouted, pumping the air in that familiar Kennedy gesture, fingers folded, thumb on top. Brow furrowed, age and care showing deeply in the youngest Kennedy face, he went quickly to questions. "Yes, you ... in the red shirt," he half commanded. The smile had sparkle, but there was the hint of Irish toughness behind...
Indeed, the glimpses we have had of a creased brow and angry eyes may be some of the best news yet from the White House. For too long in this Administration and too often in the past, we have been given pictures of a President in crisis who was cool and collected standing at the helm. Now we see a man who is hurt and wrathful about what the world has dealt him and wondering about those he had counted on. Such flashes of truth can be the final forge of leadership...
...plenty of boy-girl interest. He stayed clear of the literary world and regarded himself simply as an entertainer. When he encountered critical snobbery, as he began to break free of the golden chains of the magazines, he took to posing, says Biographer Bell, as an unenlightened middle brow. After meeting John Dos Passes in the 1950s, he reported that he was "a nice guy but hard for me to talk to, due to my mental limitations...
...other two shows also flatten Cheever's subtleties into middle-brow platitudes. In O Youth and Beauty!, Michael Murphy plays a onetime Princeton track star, now a bank executive, who vexes his wife (Kathryn Walker) by jumping over furniture at cocktail parties. Not content to let this conceit speak for it self, Playwright Gurney supplies dialogue to explain that the hero is "surmounting the obstacles of middle age . . . [by] leaping above the paraphernalia of middle-class life." In The Five-Forty-Eight, a dance of death between a married man (Laurence Luckinbill) and his jilted lover (Mary Beth Hurt...
...pouted. Another waiter piped in, "He smell like what he been out with the night before." I understood, naturally. But he thought it went right over my head, and made a gesture with his hand like an airplane taking off in front of my eyes and skimming my brow as it flew over my head. He thought I didn't understand and he wanted to teach me. He pointed out that most of the people at the bar were queens or prostitutes. So I looked at all those elegant women with dresses slit high up the slim...