Word: friendly
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...Last Laugh. They laughed when he first sat down to play. Goren acutely recalls a day at McGill when a girl friend asked him if he played bridge. "I knew that girls play bridge in the afternoon," says Goren, "and I didn't see why I couldn't. I sat down to play and made a complete ass out of myself." Goren's girl laughed at him-and thin-skinned Charlie Goren, late of Philadelphia's slums, was no man to be laughed at. "It was like putting a knife through me," he says...
Goren never played bridge again with his old girl friend-but the next time he did sit down at a bridge table, nobody laughed. He was soon winning local tournaments and rounding out his skimpy law income with bridge winnings. But as soon as he could afford to, Goren gave up playing for money. He saw that the road to bridgedom's peak lay in teaching and writing-and that a gambler's reputation could be harmful. Today he plays for money only when he feels it would be rude to refuse, and the most he has ever...
...shake hands, telegrams poured in, both phones jangled incessantly. Financier Bernard Baruch, U.N. Mediator Frank Graham and Adlai Stevenson sent their firm support. Poet Carl Sandburg, who wrote the introduction to Golden's book, told a reporter: "This only ties me closer to him." Wired a New York friend: "So what else...
...Last year the erstwhile "aged eagle" talked about taking dancing lessons, and now he can be seen dining out and piloting his 31-year-old wife Valerie across dance floors. "His brow so grim and his mouth so prim" radiate such dimpled benevolence that one crusty old friend likens the new Eliot to "an enormous, overstuffed Angora...
...collisions. Townspeople call him a voyou-a hooligan-and he plays the part to the hilt, scrawling obscenities in front of the church. But, barricaded in his room after a night of sousing, the voyou is also a voyant-a seer. One day a summons comes from Paris; a friend has mailed samples of Claude's work to famed Poet Maurice Druard. The older writer leaves his wife, and with him Claude lives in a green haze of absinthe. Egged on by Druard. the 17-year-old boy becomes the merde-shouting outrage of the Left Bank...