Word: cloud
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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There is a silver lining to the cloud of doom.Harvard has made steady progress over Roby'sthree-year tenure, winning more games each year.That bodes well for next season, even ifSaturday's loss doesn...
...never seen a Grapefruit League game, but reading the Globe every morning brings me closer. As if there's someplace, perhaps a cloud, floating between Winter Haven and Boston, allowing for both the gradual thaw and the full-body plunge into total warmth, the spring of anticipation and the spring of indulgement unified in my mind. After all, spring training is the time to dream...
Washington: Strobe Talbott, Stanley W. Cloud, David Aikman, David Beckwith, Gisela Bolte, Ricardo Chavira, Anne Constable, Michael Duffy, Glenn Garelik, Hays Gorey, Ted Gup, Jerry Hannifin, Steven Holmes, Richard Hornik, Jay Peterzell, Barrett Seaman, Elaine Shannon, Alessandra Stanley, Dick Thompson, Nancy Traver, Bruce van Voorst New York: Bonnie Angelo, Mary Cronin, Margot Hornblower, Eugene Linden, Thomas McCarroll, Jeanne McDowell, Raji Samghabadi, Janice C. Simpson, Martha Smilgis, Wayne Svoboda Boston: Robert Ajemian, Joelle Attinger, Melissa Ludtke, Lawrence Malkin Chicago: Gavin Scott, Barbara Dolan, Lee Griggs, J. Madeleine Nash, Elizabeth Taylor Detroit: B. Russell Leavitt Atlanta: Joseph J. Kane, Don Winbush Houston...
...Skies programs vary greatly from school to school. At suburban Hillside, for example, students listen to "sky music" ranging from Franz Josef Haydn's Sunrise Quartet to Tom Paxton's Even a Gray Day. In Pittsburgh's Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary School, Ruth Martin's fifth-graders write cloud-inspired haiku and use star charts to find constellations. The program seems to work as well in cities as in suburbia: Martin describes an eight- year-old "barely able to contain his excitement" at having spotted Jupiter above the urban skyline with his naked...
...barely regained my senses when it happened again. From out of the haze of mud dripping from my forehead and eyelids, from out of the cloud of exhaust left by the garbage truck, a car was aiming straight for my head. Maybe the driver had decided to pass another car by going over the island without seeing me, or maybe he thought I was a mud puddle, or maybe he simply wanted to hit me for the sheer sadistic pleasure, but whatever the motive, that Honda's grille left an imprint on my forehead that remains to this...