Word: gauntleted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...summies, by contrast, were quite apathetic towards the buttons. Aside from the inevitable cranks, only one bothered to pick up the gauntlet, a delightful girl from Smith whose counter-button read "I'm unimpressed." Miss Greenhouse to the contrary, the buttons were sold without regard to race, creed, or collegiate origin, but only about a dozen summies asked for them. Under the circumstances, such apathy was refreshing...
Perhaps the most ingenuous attempt to find a solution was made by United Nations Secretary General U Thant, who flew off to Cairo on short notice to chat with Nasser. After running the gauntlet of workers chanting "God is great, long live Nasser, Egypt will win!" and being forced to cool his heels for 24 hours at Cairo's Nile Hilton, Thant finally got to see Nasser at a four-hour "working dinner," at which he mostly listened. He accomplished little, and returned a day earlier than planned to the U.N., where he handed the Security Council an unremarkable...
...Kids had finished their tour of the Caribbean and their assault on New York and Yale. Heikki Lampela had secured the sponsorship and the theatre. The Belmont housewives and the high school kids and the old men and women and the Harvard and Radcliffe students had run the gauntlet of picketers carrying signs reading "Custer Died for Your Sins" and "Sing Away Your Sickness with a Right-Wing Melody." They were all buzzing in their seats now. It was Sunday night and everything was ready...
...tortured shadows of Soviet leaders hanged in effigy-Kosygin included. The 170 Russians who remained in the embassy were supplied with vodka and beer, bread and soup sent via air from Moscow and then carried in by East European and even Western diplomats who daily braved the Red Guard gauntlet. The Russians even filled their swimming pool with water in case the Chinese should shut off their supply. In Peking restaurants went up signs: "Out of bounds for Russian revisionist swine and dogs...
...agents (Howard and Marshall) assigned to trace a shipment of radio activated opium from the poppy field of Persia to the junk shops of Harlem whip out their trusty Geiger counter and go lickety-click from Teheran to Geneva to Naples to Nice. En route they run a grim gauntlet of all-too-familiar thriller scenes (bang-bang on the Blue Train, hugger-mugger on the bad guy's yacht, hack-the-stripper in a nudie nightspot) and unpleasantly overripe chestnuts ("How'll we get there-take the midnight camel?"). By the time the heroes get the heroin...