Word: clapboards
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Vonnegut owns a two-story, clapboard-and-shingle house in Barnstable, Mass., shared with his wife Jane (a Swarthmore Phi Beta Kappa), their own three children and three adopted children, plus a mongrel named Sandy, also known as "the Barnstable Dust Mop." Most of his writing is done at home in morning spurts. Afternoons he is free to paint or contemplate a sign he has on the wall which reads "GOD DAMN IT YOU GOT TO BE KIND...
After noon, it got colder and the humor of the frustrating takes began to wilt. Phoebe, who had been talkative at first, started to withdraw from the group. She stood by the stop sign in silence, clutching her clapboard, waiting for each take to begin. As Tim put it, it was becoming a drag. But at 2 p.m., after 13 takes, the shot was over...
PHOEBE quietly recorded the details of the filming on the log, to be used in the editing later on. She also held her clapboard in front of the camera before each take and announced the scene and the number of the take. Then she sat down again on the sidelines and smoked--or stared at the fire. Sometimes, but not consistently, those not involved with the shooting looked at the actor being filmed...
There was much of Abilene in Eisenhower, and he described it unforgettably one June afternoon in 1952, when he had returned to open his campaign for the Republican presidential nomination. Standing near the little white clapboard house where he was reared (now open to the public), he spoke of his boyhood and his parents, who were members of the River Brethren, a Mennonite sect: "Their Bibles were a live and lusty influence in their lives. There was nothing sad about their religion." Of his own faith, he once said: "I am the most intensely religious man I know. Nobody goes...
...Episcopal priest in Port Jefferson, N.Y., an old Long Island shipbuilding town on the edge of the Manhattan commuter belt. He lives with his wife Peg, their six children, two cats (named Anthony and Bartholomew) and a nondescript dog in a century-old house adjoining his small white clapboard church. At dinner time, the sweet cooking aromas wafting out of the old rectory hint at the true nature of a man who is no ordinary country vicar...