Word: drank
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Heaney doesn't wallow in self-doubt, however. Many of the poems in this collection are elegies (some memory of Irish soldiers and artists), along with one particularly striking lament for Robert Lowell, whom he calls "our night ferry Thudding in the sea." He admires Lowell as one who "drank America/Like the heart's/Iron vodka...," and these lines of veneration acquaint us with Heaney's intrinsic poetic spirit. Like Lowell, he wants to glean all that he can from his environment...
...visit to the shoemills and the town bar are still major topics of conversation. The bar young Carter visited is the only liquor-licensed establishment in the area, owned by Vasilios, a fortyish Greek emigre and town sage. "He shook people's hands and he came and drank with us. I will vote for Carter," Vasilios says as he sips his Michelob. His mother-in-law Pauline, a beautiful vibrant blonde woman, nods in agreement. Their bar is also a restaurant, cafe and nightclub--an area of the floor has been cleared for dancing and occasional couples parade their togetherness...
...Vasilios's judgment, Carter is a good person, and besides, one can't forget that his son Chip drank under this very roof just last October. A young barmaid serves the sage another Michelob and adds, "Carter's a good solid religious man. He's a peanut farmer." As the barmaid Alicia stands in attendance listening, Vasilios turns to Kennedy. "He's not what his brothers were; he's a jerk. He got kicked out of school, he plays with women, and then there's Chappaquiddick," Vasilios says dismissingly. Alicia nods. "He's been a fuck-up all his life...
...draft registration. Carter has one other thing going for him in this small town--he "had the courtesy," as one woman puts it, to send his son Chip to Farmington. Chip, "a very handsome boy," stopped in at the shoe mill, and then at Kristy's restaurant. "He drank a beer just like a regular guy," and that Moosehead alone probably won the incumbent a dozen votes...
Surrounded by 20 reporters one day last week, Fred Dryer of the Los Angeles Rams recounted how he and former Teammate Lance Rentzel attended the 1975 Super Bowl as accredited correspondents for Sport magazine. "We acted just like regular beat-reporters would," he said. "We ate and drank free all week, but we were unbelievable tippers. We slept in our suits. We blurted questions. We weren't interested in answers, and we didn't wait for them...