Word: dial
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...MAIL, MOST ANYWHERE MailStation ($99, $9.95 a month), from Cidco Inc., based in Morgan Hill, Calif., is the size of a hardcover tome and very portable, with a small but readable flip-up screen. The company provides access with local dial-ups from most U.S. cities, but only e-mail is available--no surfing. Like nearly every other Internet appliance, Cidco commits you to its own Internet service when you buy the device...
...wants a buddy, not a fembot. Frank Keating wasn't a dark horse until he told us he was; too safe to be a surprise. Chuck Hagel has got foreign policy cred and independent cred, but it's doubtful Bush wants anybody who's on John McCain's speed-dial. That leaves John Kasich, the House budget guru and rock 'n' roller who has been written off as too young for a ticket short on presidential experience. But try this...
...probably haven't heard of Jonathan Hoefler and Tobias Frere-Jones (unless you're an art director, in which case you've got their number on speed dial). But if you've picked up Rolling Stone, SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, the New York Times Magazine or the hip new business magazine Fast Company, if you've strolled through the Guggenheim or Whitney museum, if you've dutifully filled out the 2000 Census form or watched ESPN, you've seen a sampling of the 500 original typefaces they've designed...
...what's Fort Madison's secret? A healthy economy for one thing, with blue- and white-color jobs at Sheaffer pens, Dupont, Dial, Wabash National and a state prison. A sweet, leafy residential area within walking distance of downtown and the riverfront park, for another. And Fort Madison has the dumb luck of being too small to attract the kind of super discount stores that work like neutron bombs on downtowns, leaving the buildings standing but destroying all life forms...
...sounds like the stuff of B movies, but when Michael Paterniti tracks Harvey down in New Jersey nearly a half-century later in Driving Mr. Albert (Dial Press; 211 pages; $18.95), it turns out to be closer to tragedy. For years the doctor has claimed to be conducting independent research on the purloined remains, but he has produced no findings, and reputable scientists dismiss him as a jerk. A parade of wives and children have abandoned him, and he hasn't practiced medicine in decades--all because of his zealous dedication to the chunks of brain. Now, at 84, Harvey...