Word: calling
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Most of Neruda's time until his return to Chile in 1952 was spent writing, living in Europe and traveling in Asia and the Soviet Union, which he loved oblivious to the imminence of what he would later call "Stalin's dark night." The revelations of the Twentieth Congress came as a grave shock to Neruda, one which the Memoirs show he could only hesitatingly accept. He refutes accusations in the Memoirs that he remained a die-hard Stalinist, even after the Congress, yet he writes that he can never forget that Stalin had appeared to the world...
...sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet...
...Behave yourself now," Jimmy Carter admonished his high school classmate Virginia Williams in front of the white clapboard railroad depot. "And if you get in trouble, don't call me." Then Virginia, her husband Frank and 380 other Plains folk boarded the 18 red-blue-and-silver cars of the Peanut Special-an Amtrak train leased for fun and bound for glory. At exactly 1 p.m., as Jimmy stood in the windy 10° F. weather, waving a gloved hand and flashing the famous teeth, the Peanut Special began to pull away from Plains-the first passenger train...
...white, and most of which are collector's items: a buffoonish Little Richard with six inches--straight up--of hari, "the handsomest man in rock and roll"; Carole King more than a decade ago, starched, prim, and complete with bouffant hair-do; and three grinning Marvelettes ("you can call me up and have a date, any old time"), spike-heeled and poured into satin and sequin sheaths--to mention just a few. The pictures are abundant, and cliched though it may sound, they capture the excitement, the innocence and the defiance of so much early rock with greater clarity than...
Once again, PhD.-to-be Landsman came through. Ironic, isn't it, that a scholar about to earn his doctorate would call Jackson Browne's hit "Mister, My Eyes...