Word: ear
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...duct of Silastic (trade name for medical silicones made by Michigan's Dow Corning Corp.) is 18 in. to 24 in. long, only 1/16-in. thick. It is led under the skin, behind the ear and down the neck to a point where it is spliced into the internal jugular vein. The excess brain fluid is thus dripped into the bloodstream, where the body readily disposes of it. Another Silastic preparation, which looks like a sheet of waxed paper, serves to correct a different type of brain problem: when part of the brain's parchmentlike covering, the dura mater...
...Gary Memorial Hospital in Caribou, X rays showed that the bullet had passed through Kelley's brain from a point below the right ear and had lodged in the left side of his skull. Dr. Frederick J. Gregory found that the boy's blindness was the result of bleeding inside the skull that caused pressure on the brain. When the hemorrhage was drained and bone fragments were removed, the boy recovered his sight. As for the bullet, it seemed best to leave it where...
Divorced. By Les Paul, 48, electric guitarist who turned such oldtimers as How High the Moon into ear-popping pop hits: Mary Ford, 43, his sing-along partner; on grounds of cruelty; after 15 years of marriage, one child, now in Paul's custody; in Hackensack...
...there was delight for the ear as well as the eye; from the first bright sounds of Richard Strauss's Fanfare, it was clear that the Pavilion was a superb musical instrument. The Los Angeles Philharmonic's brilliant young (28) Indian conductor, Zubin Mehta, showed the acoustics off with one of Respighi's chiaroscuro set pieces called Feste Romane, whose chief virtue is that it includes the most delicate pianissimos as well as the most plangent brass. The sweeping gold acoustical canopy carried the sound, clear and unblurred, to the furthest seat. And when Violinist Jascha Heifetz...
...Manhattan wears the vulgar razzmatazz of Christmas like a frock coat--underneath she is the same old town you'd see the other 11 months, carrying out, as ever, her inevitable business. Explore her infinity on your own, put your own ear to her breast, then hear her internal rumblings. You must slow yourself down, not rush through on Gray-Line sightseeing tours, inundated by some puerile spiel. "Man," wrote Jon Hendricks in a jazz poem to Manhattan, "if you can't make it in N.Y. City you can't make it nowhere .... I wrote the shortest jazz poem...