Word: fifteen
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...Through fifteen years, Watson himself was thoroughly suited for—or rather, desperately sought—that monogamous institution. In spring of 1967, he met Elizabeth Lewis, a Radcliffe sophomore, and married her in March of 1968, shortly before his fortieth birthday. His sexist pomposity leaks through in a postcard to a friend: “19-year-old now mine.” Despite its readability and lighthearted melodrama, the book is ultimately hurt by Watson’s own egoism. His final description of the woman with enough fortitude to marry him does little to neutralize...
...student services. Now, that promise has been overshadowed by her saying she wants the council to discuss more controversial and political campus issues, including Harvard’s hotly-debated approach to the Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC), which is not officially supported by Harvard. In a recent Fifteen Minutes roundtable, Lee praised Summers’ active interaction with undergraduates. She also told a Crimson reporter that the change in the council’s course stems from a meeting with Summers in which the University president said he wanted the council to be more of a student voice...
This is the first of FM’s new biweekly “Pop Culture Flashback” column, which will analyze the cultural detritus of our youth. E-mail fifteen_minutes@hotmail.com with suggested topics.
...combined, the cross-country skiing event. The best jumper gets to start skiing first, with the others following in order of how they placed in the ski-jump; first person to cross the finish line wins. That meant that Lodwick would begin his cross-country ski two minutes and fifteen seconds behind the leader. Lodwick, a strong skier, likened his chances of a medal to that of a football team that is two touchdowns behind in the final quarter...
...Fifteen minutes later, facing an unknown future with just a pink plastic basket holding a few clothes and a bottle of shampoo, Lek starts to cry. Suddenly sensing a need to do everything properly, she runs into the bar, kneels in front of Mama San and begins to bow and chant, a good Buddhist girl in smudged makeup giving thanks for her freedom. Mama San laughs, flattered by the display of supplication. She isn't worried about finding replacements. "Their mothers or the middlemen bring them to me," she says. "There are always fresh ones...