Word: daughter
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...felt that the new emphasis on human rights jeopardized traditional friendships and interests. Other officials have had to get used to the fact that sometimes human rights must yield precedence to other more mundane or more pressing strategic goals. Says the NSC's Tuchman, who is the daughter of Historian Barbara Tuchman: "In foreign policy, there is always bound to be a point where one has to pursue conflicting interests. When that time comes, you have to decide which interests you're going to pursue most vigorously. Otherwise you might overload the circuit." In the first three weeks...
...your daughter screaming? At eleven, she is probably too old for nightmares. Maybe her four-color poster of Shaun Cassidy (life size, $6; smaller version supplied gratis with $5 membership in the fan club) is curling at the edges. Maybe the battery in her portable radio has failed right in the middle of the station's 14th daily airing of Shaun Cassidy's latest hit. Maybe the family mastiff took a nap atop Shaun's two albums (combined sales: 5 million copies), warping them into a couple of vinyl flapjacks. Maybe the picture tube...
...Your daughter, your friend's daughter, and several million others. Girls-pre-teen, just-teen and a few lustfully maternal moms-have made Shaun Cassidy, 19, into a top-selling recording artist, a high-wattage TV personality, and the kind of turn-away concert star who can provoke riotous rites of weepy nubility every time he bats his well-turned lashes. Admits Shaun gamely: "Yes, it's a dirty job. But someone...
...artist who slept with him once, but now rejects him with comical callousness. It seems that she went to bed with him only because he reminded her of a sailor she missed an assignation with when she was 14. A middle-aged woman keeps having seriocomic fights with the daughter and son-in-law she is trying to live with. She rejects a bus driver whose intentions are honorably dishonorable-and might offer a means of escape-in order to talk the night away with a homosexual...
...days before the fight, Muhammad Ali sprawled on the couch of his 29th-floor Las Vegas hotel suite. His eyes were closed, the great, graceful body quiet under a maroon-and-white bathrobe. His 18-month-old daughter's doll lay near by, and from the next room came the laughter of his third wife, Veronica, and another daughter. The room filled gradually with relatives, gym figures, musicians, sycophants, friends. His dietician entered, carrying a bushel bag of carrots. The champ suddenly clucked. Everyone jumped. This sound of a popping champagne cork is Ali's command signal...