Word: buds
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...corn gets as high as an elephant's eye, Oklahomans can thank their Senate candidates: Republican Charles ("Bud") Wilkinson, 48, and Democrat Fred Harris...
...remembers the ignominious defeat of Britain's bastion at Singapore, explained they needed engineers, not volunteers. Indonesia snarled at Ikeda's men as "cat's-paws of American imperialism," and in the Philippines the Japanese were actually pelted with stones. His good works nipped in the bud, Ikeda last week resignedly admitted he was "postponing indefinitely" any further discussion of a Japanese peace corps...
...When Bud Powell left Manhattan for Paris in 1958, his friends prayed that the change of locale might somehow exorcise the demons that had plagued him for much of his life. Instead, Powell sank even deeper into his private inferno. After five years abroad he was a shattered, empty-eyed hulk, a stranger to himself and his music. When friends finally placed him in a hospital outside Paris a year ago, he was suffering from tuberculosis, alcoholism, malnutrition and other legacies of hard living. Doctors said that he would not recover for at least three years. But Powell progressed rapidly...
...from Limbo. Yet, amazingly, last week Bud Powell, now 39, was back on the U.S. jazz scene, cured of TB and fat as a Burgermeister. The homecoming was staged at Birdland, New York's famed jazz temple, which after a two-month fling at booking rock-'n'-rollers (TIME, May 8) has returned to hosting modern jazzmen. The metamorphosis was complete when Powell forcefully struck the first chords of The Best Thing for You Is Me. His attack was robust and sure, erupting in a series of crashing, dissonant chords, then retreating in flights of delicate melodic...
...architect of Powell's recovery has been Francis Poudras, a 29-year-old commercial artist from Paris, who is Bud's most devoted fan and fulltime guardian angel. Poudras lives with Powell, doles out his food and money, protectively escorts him everywhere to keep him on the straight and narrow. "People say Bud is crazy or lost or silent." says Poudras, "but he is really in a state of grace." Powell still spends most evenings sitting quietly alone, smiling to himself, wrapped in a cocoon of benign silence. Yet to anyone who has seen him since he fled...