Word: cowboyism
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...freshman year when I first saw snow, I thought it was awesome. Now when I see snow I kind of just run to my room and cry,” Ickes said. “I’m just doing my best to cowboy my way through...
This is the sixth article in a continuing series.Part 1: Provost Considered for Top PostPart 2: Will These Cowboy Boots March West?Part 3: Deft Historian May Be Harvard's FuturePart 4: 'Iowa Values' for Mass. Hall?Part 5: Harvard May Stretch for Etch
...decade of the '80s Austin was a grand place to be if you were a journalist or a politician. Texas politics was raucous and raw. There was booze, smoke-filled rooms (including Molly's office) and an abundance of colorful characters, some wearing diamonds in their cowboy boots, others brawling on the state senate floor. And there were newspaper wars going on and money being spent on investigative journalism and grand photo essays. For a decade, Molly wrote for the Dallas Times Herald, until it was swallowed up by the Dallas Morning News in 1992. Oh, I envied...
...Buddhist monks stroll by in saffron robes. Parents drop off their kids at the local elementary school; university students in uniforms - yes, college kids wear uniforms in Bangkok - lug backpacks full of books. But just a few blocks away is one of the city's many saucy neighborhoods: Soi Cowboy, a neon-lit stretch boasting clubs such as Spice Girls and Doll House. During the day, I can walk Cassius, my pet schnauzer, down Soi Cowboy, and she gets friendly pats from sex workers in hot pants and plastic miniskirts. Even the poodle owned by a fearsome-looking mama...
...contrast between Soi Cowboy and the neighboring streets is all the more striking, because the majority of Thai women are quite modest. Their collars are high, their hemlines low. Their bra straps do not peek out from under their shirts. A local newspaper recently ran an advice column counseling that girls should not get their ears pierced before the age of 18. Walking the residential lanes of Bangkok, you rarely see decolletage or muffin-tops, those rolls of flesh that peek out between hip-huggers and shrunken tank-tops. But then you turn a corner and a clutch of women...