Word: coating
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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When volunteers first see the hospital, they are not impressed with what it is doing. They see dingy building a lot like Radcliffe dormitories from the outside, with halls that so obviously need a new coat of paint, and barren rooms furnished only with the poorest assortment of tables and chairs. The wards they work on house the chronic patients, who have been in the hospital much too long; often they work in a ward where the ratio of attendants to patients is as low as one to twenty, where attendants just don't have time to talk to patients...
...refine the emotions." His own contributions to that refinement were hard, bright geometry, the equalizing of old and new materials, the applied and the fine arts. These qualities appeal not so much to the often fickle eye but to the intellect. "He was the original artist in a white coat," says the Museum of Contemporary Art's Jan van der Marck, "one of the first to place art in a laboratory situation...
House guests would find him in "a kind of Holbein square cap of velvet and black velvet coat," scattering bread on the lawn for the birds. In the spring of 1900, when he was 57, he shaved off his beard and felt "forty and clean and light." His bared face revealed surprising strength-the iron spirituality of a worldly archbishop...
Fielding's devotion to his charges is beyond question. He tells them how to beat the airlines out of excess baggage fees (stuff heavy articles into coat sleeves, tie knots in the 'sleeves, carry the coat) and introduces them to the wonders of the old-fashioned bidet (turn on the spray, balance a pingpong ball on it; the ball will stay there for hours). With the panicky provincialism of a country kid clutching his wallet pocket on Broadway, he continually cautions them to count their change in taxis, to drink only bottled beer in nightclubs ("Mickey Finns are far from...
...brassy sound of the studio band cuts off, the lights go down, a spotlight flicks on, picks up the broad back of a big man wearing a black frock coat, striped pants, patent-leather boots and a six-string guitar. The figure swivels around and drawls, "Hello-I'm Johnny Cash." At that, the 3,006 people who have been smothering their enthusiasm back in the cavernous depths of the Grand Old Opry House break loose like a thunderstorm on a hot July day. For like the man said-it's Johnny Cash...