Word: chrome
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...verifiable, seemed plausible. I could rationalize it all away, but I don't. Astrology used to be a medieval relic, a creation of the imagination comparable to the visions of Blake, Shelley, and Yeats. In its own, non-scientific, metaphorical way, it was beautiful and intriguing. Today, packaged and chrome-plated, gushed'over by teenyboppers and prattled about in dimestore books, astrology has become a chapter heading in volumes on the new "Youth Culture," an inspiration for composers of "tribal rock musicals," and the subject of a daily column in the Daily News. Behold the tinsel moon...
...document, full of cheerful ideas about interior design. The book shows how today's "with it" people live in Europe and the U.S. They subdivide interior space into tricky levels. They love mirrors and blazing primary colors. Their art works are random-a bolt of Persian cloth, a chrome lamp, a billboard fragment, a lute. Does all this glitter mean anything more than an egotist's smile? Author Barbara Plumb, editor of the Home section of the New York Times Magazine, chats tersely about each dwelling, but wisely leaves conclusions to the reader...
...souvenir hunters chipped pieces of wood away from Dike Bridge. For a time the car that Senator Edward Kennedy had driven off the bridge the night of July 18-19 was left unprotected, and some people went so far as to take bits of shattered glass and strips of chrome from it. Those curious about what happened that night meanwhile continued to chip away at Kennedy's patchy story of the accident that took the life of Mary Jo Kopechne...
Gone is the Old World elegance of the earlier Queens, with their majestic paneled sitting rooms, heavy leather-covered chairs and bronze statuary. It has been replaced by the chrome and Naugahyde of modern design, ranging in taste from contemporary elegance to Las Vegas gaudy. "Restaurants" have replaced dining rooms, and even that venerable man for all needs, the purser, has been redesignated the "hotel manager." Though the QE2 will maintain two classes (first and "standard") on her transatlantic runs, she will cruise the Caribbean as a classless society nine months of the year...
Darting about on her chrome-festooned motorcycle in her self-designed uniform-white crash helmet and boots, tight black pants and leather jacket-she might be taken for a Hell's Angel auxiliary. Up close, Esther Winders gives no such false impression. The badge on her breast, the pearl-handled pistol and the can of Chemical Mace that hang from her hips, clearly label Mrs. Winders what she is and always wanted to be: a lady...