Word: bus
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...difference in playing DVD movies or running any of the rich programs in the vast, dark Quittner Collection, although the Athlon is supposed to handle multimedia much better, thanks to its 200-MHz bus, vs. the Pentium's 100-MHz bus. (Think of the bus as the highway between the microprocessor and the rest of the computer.) A spokesman for Intel pooh-poohed the importance of bus speed, saying the real bottleneck is elsewhere in the computer. As for all the other benchmarks that show AMD's chip being faster, Intel had no comment, though it has cut Pentium prices...
...never be Vice President, Rock cracked, because white people know what will happen: "If we had a black Vice President right now, I couldn't wait to kill the President." He argued that O.J. Simpson got off because of his fame, not his skin color: "If O.J. drove a bus, he wouldn't even be O.J.--he'd have been Orenthal the bus-driving murderer...
Getting ready to go back to school in the good old days of, say, 1997 meant a few trips to the mall, a quick check of the bus route and a thorough sweep of the stationery aisle. This year, for many parents, there are some new things to remember: the teacher's e-mail address, the school's website or which night online homework help chat will be offered. "The 1999-2000 school year will be the one where the majority of parents really feel the Internet's influence on their child's education at the everyday level," says Jonathan...
...sure he felt the same way about me. As some men do, he just withered away after she died. He wouldn't let anyone into the house to clean except me. He ran off anyone who tried to help, then complained about loneliness. He picked up women on the bus, talked about getting remarried (always to someone in her 30s or 40s, I noticed), confided details of his marital life that I really didn't want to know. It was as if his internal censor had gone to sleep. And he began to lose his mind. He was convinced that...
...elderly when they live alone in a distant city. But I still wonder whether my dad's move wasn't the worst thing I could have done to him. I ripped him away from his foundations: from the pub he went to three times a week, the bus route he knew even blind, the house he could navigate in the dark, the newspaper that chronicled men he knew in the Jaycees, the people he had built houses and warehouses...