Word: extroverts
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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They soon observed that Bob Lovett stood on the same general ground as Billy Mitchell, was just as apostolic in his devotion to the thesis that air power is the decisive power. But there the likeness ended. General Mitchell, extrovert and highly explosive, barged into obstacles with his head down. Introversive, highly diplomatic Air Secretary Lovett considers his adversaries carefully, always "pushing and squeezing," like a pilot flying a tight formation. Result is that he gets things done by pushing the right button instead of wrecking the keyboard...
Popularity. But such capitalist baggage did not prevent Joe Davies from giving Russia a detached once-over. The extrovert Ambassador saw Russia, rather than his own prejudgments of Russia. While most Moscow emissaries stayed in their salons and tried to imagine they were in London or Paris, Joe Davies rustled around looking at industry in Leningrad, agriculture in the Ukraine...
...TIME, Jan. 27, you have a heading, "Finding Wackies,"and the article describes pretty well what wackies are. March 17, under the heading, "New Pictures,"you have a sentence: "Coffee Cup is a whacky extrovert, etc."The description hardly indicates that he is a wackie, but, as I am unfamiliar with whacky, I cannot be sure...
...Girl and a Gob (RKO Radio). Coffee Cup (George Murphy) is a whacky extrovert of the Step-Right-Up-and-Call-Me-Speedy school with a TNT punch, an irrepressible line of chatter, a knack-for betting on the wrong side, an unfailingly empty purse. Dot Duncan (Lucille Ball) is the girl. Belabored by a shiftless family of zanies and a vague inclination towards matrimony, she seems completely satisfied just tagging along with Coffee Cup as he churns up street brawls, whirls around the dance halls or lounges in a hamburger joint with his sailor pals. Dot's boss...
Afraid, like most British women, that a heavy tax was about to be laid on cosmetics by Chancellor of the Exchequer Sir John Simon, a young London extrovert last week put on a pre-Coty gown of crinoline and a wig, went swishing to No. 11 Downing Street. The idea was that a paint-&-powder tax would send her back to the horse-&-buggy days. The idea did not permeate, for she was deftly grasped by London bobbies and whisked away as the tall, dry, Nonconformist Chancellor emerged from No. 11 with the worn and faded dispatch box in which...