Word: gins
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Some of the humor contained good-natured barbs. At a session with journalists toward the end of the week, Carter encountered a long delay getting a gin-and-tonic for himself. "No authority around here," somebody muttered. Earlier, Senator Edmund Muskie of Maine had told a story about a preacher offering an eloquent sermon during a drought. The congregation congratulated him, but one remarked: "A little rain would do us a hell of a lot more good." Muskie's point: the nation needs action rather than just speeches...
...hall Marty Duffy of Ely, Iowa, and Roger Wandrey of Portland, Ore., watch in bemused silence as the intricate glass clusters and stained-glass domes that they made are sold. So do not weep for the little old lady whose oak-paneled inglenook - so cozy with a gin and bitters- is now going to be part of a restaurant theme. The inglenook was probably put together from remnants and refimshed. "What a piece!" shouts an auctioneer, as a Gothic pulpit is wheeled up. "Put a disco jockey in that and you've really got something." Not only instant restaurant...
...stepped out of the bathtub and smithereened a plastic cup lying on the linoleum where, limp-armed, he had dropped it. He hopped on one leg to hold the twinge of pain, new pain he couldn't numb because that cup had served him the last of the gin bright September day: he just back from the war, starched Air Force uniform, two rows of colored ribbons on his chest, bound for glory; she just back from her high-class wartime job in Washington, home to marry the hero. But after the fourth mewling baby, she went to work...
...stepped out of the bathtub and smithereened a plastic cup lying on the linoleum where, limparmed, he had dropped it. He hopped on one leg to hold the twinge of pain, new pain he couldn't numb because that cup had served him the last of the gin the night before. He careened against the wall and his shoulder erupted again in fire. It seared, like it had last night when the lizard-skin boots kept swinging into him, fireballs exploding when they landed. He had already made himself forget whoever it was attached to the boots...
Social historians will date the decline of the cocktail party from the summer of 1975, when chic people first asked for "a little white wine with soda and ice," instead of the traditional rum, whisky or gin. The reasons for this shift are obscure. It is usually said that Americans became tired of being blasted out of their heads by strong drink, but this makes little sense. The only point of a cocktail party was to take leave of the senses, it being universally understood that nobody in his right mind would want to be present at one ... A likelier...