Word: brush
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...into flat blues notes or beats that don't flow or dances that don't seem to matter threaten to do serious damage to the show. But it's a good enough show so its faults aren't disastrous. In fact, by the time everything comes together, somewhere around "Brush Up Your Shakespeare," the show is bordering on high comedy. And I guess maybe a case could be made for occasional tediousness as authenticity: "a very excellent piece of work," the lone spectator in the original Taming of the Shrew remarks halfway through, "would 'twere over...
...clearly run the show at most Midwestern rinks, many physical fitness buffs have taken to the sport, which is easier on the ankles than ice-skating. Says one enthusiast: "You can roller skate for five hours without getting tired." Gutsy oldsters are also gradually invading the rinks, eager to brush up on fancy footwork learned back in the '30s-notably the "spread eagle" and the "mohawk," turning movements used to reverse direction. The management often obliges by playing such nostalgic tunes as Tea for Two, Rambling Rose and Heart of My Heart...
...Tokyo International Airport. A record crowd of more than 4,000 was on hand to greet the returning hero as he flew home from Manila. Press helicopters hovered outside his Tokyo hospital window, while newspapers devoted full-page spreads to him. Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka personally took writing brush in hand to inscribe ten poetic characters. The message: "The air of a heavenly hero will prove awesome through a thousand autumns...
...their own professional careers. There is no apparent connection between the style, subject matter, or medium of their work. Janet Abramowicz makes compositions out of wood and metal, Joanna Brandford is a weaver. Lois Charney is concerned with color theory in her abstract paintings, Juliet Kepes makes Japanese-like brush paintings and Marian Parry does tiny Steinbergesque drawings...
...enormous achievements of science in posting the universe that man inhabits, odd things keep slipping past the sentries. The tap on the shoulder may be fleeting, the brush across the cheek gone sooner than it is felt, but the momentary effect is unmistakable: an unwilling suspension of belief in the rational. An old friend suddenly remembered, and as suddenly the telephone rings and the friend is on the line. A vivid dream that becomes the morning reality. The sense of bumping into one's self around a corner of time, of having done and said just this, in this place...