Word: clad
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Only Castro endures, bearded as always, clad in his familiar green army fatigues, now 41. The years of experimentation and frustration seem to have mellowed him: he is a guerrilla agriculturist these days, seemingly more concerned with exporting sugar than revolutionary warfare. For last week's celebration, there was no military parade, no troops and no tanks. "We do not want to waste a gallon of gas or lose a minute of work," Fidel explained to a million cheering Habaneros in the Plaza de la Revoluci...
...median income of a U.S. family of four has risen 54%, to $9,695. More than 75 million Americans are at work today in civilian jobs, and unemployment has dropped to a 15-year low of 3.3%. It is true that too many Americans remain ill-clad, ill-housed and ill-fed, but the U.S. has come close to achieving its goal of full employment...
...beginnings of a free and humanistic politics and an end to the politics of confrontation and ultimatum. For the politics of ultimatum, no matter which side plays them, are emotionally and intellectually as nourishing as spittle. No matter which side is taking reprisals, and no matter what exalted iron-clad principles motivate those reprisals, it is still a politics of fear. And the only offspring of fear is bitterness and hatred...
Translucent Togas. Once past the entry hall, patrons are politely requested to remove their shoes. They are escorted up a ramp into the cavernous main studio, to confront a brain-boggling scene. Dimly distinguishable in the half-light, two dozen or more toga-clad figures are arranged in random fashion around 14 raised platforms, lushly carpeted and joined together by a narrow walkway. Ghostly music emanates from unseen speakers; colored lights flicker over the ceiling and walls. New arrivals are led to platforms, helped into their own translucent togas and encouraged to doff as many of their clothes as they...
...French crews have a much pleasanter home. They are housed in the ultramodern Hotel Gamba, where they spend their off-duty time devouring expensive meals ($25 and up) and socking away wine at $15 a bottle. Clad in soiled shorts and sweat-stained shirts, their bare feet stuck into rubber Japanese zori, they look to be a much scruffier lot than the colonial swells at the Rèsidence. They are much more close-mouthed as well. All attempts to start conversations fail; their thin, long-nosed Gallic faces remain blank...