Word: cups
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...American social mythology. Its chroniclers in fiction are John Cheever and Peter De Vries, its poet laureate Phyllis McGinley. The $50,000 split level is its castle, the barbecue chef its master of the revels, the station wagon its chariot, the 8:03 or the clogged expressway its cup of doom. Few modern Americans feel much nostalgia for the farm or the small town, and most now find the once glittering big cities tarnished with decay. The pull of the suburb has been so strong that suburbanites are becoming the most numerous element in the U.S. population. According...
Latin America has many dictators and detractors, but they do not raise the passions that its heroes do. Last week, as Brazil almost dissolved into pandemonium, the cause was not politics but soccer. When its team had defeated Italy 4-1 to win the World Cup in Mexico City, the country erupted in what Jornal do Brasil bannered as THE BIGGEST CARNAVAL IN HISTORY...
...common knowledge that alcohol, in moderation, has therapeutic effects-as a releaser of emotional tensions, for instance, and as a mild sedative. Drink also serves society through the simple but significant camaraderie of the cup. In a recent experiment, Dr. Ching-piao Chien, a senior psychiatrist at Boston State Hospital, tested this function of alcohol on geriatric patients. Chien staged his study in the hospital sunroom, which had been converted for the experiment into a pub. His subjects were 40 male inmates (average age 73) suffering from depression or mental deterioration stemming from senility...
...open longer than almost anyplace else. A very bad book called Love with a Harvard Accent once said that the Bick was "where the Cambridge bohemians gathered." You need pay this no attention, however, because the same book had its insipid hero stopping into Leavitt and Peirce for a cup of coffee, which is categorically impossible because Leavitt and Peirce only sells tobacco and games. But the Bick is open late...
...everyone has to wear the same thing and everyone has to eat the same thing. All that I knew about revolution was from the two pictures in my eleventh grade history textbook: the first of a vicious, almost horned Robespierre squeezing the blood from a human heart into a cup, and the second of an elegant, repentant, white-haired Louis XVI, praying before the guillotine. I also remembered the "World" section of the Sun Diego Union-Evening Tribune from one Sunday in 1957, when I was eight. On the front page was a color map of the world...