Word: gloving
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Formfitting Inventor: Rikiya Fukuda Availability: Prototype only To Learn More: snipurl.com/jp3h (Japanese only) A door that fits like a glove? This one does. Fukuda's Automatic Door, designed in Japan, opens just enough to match the shape of the person or object passing through. The nifty motion-detecting portal saves energy by keeping a door from having to repeatedly open all the way. That helps maintain a stable temperature in a room and can prevent dirt and other materials from being swept inside. In addition to people, the new system can be used for small objects, like packages dropped...
Josh Soares and Greg Moore scored two minutes apart in the first period to put the Black Bears (8-1, 3-0 Hockey East) on top 2-0. Soares flipped a shot over Patrick Watson’s glove 15:34 into the game after Ryan fed him a pass in front of the net. Moore’s goal came on a rebound of a Bret Tyler shot 17:36 into the first...
...blue-liners in front of her, Boe was again staunch in goal, registering 30 saves. Harvard was out-shot for the second straight day, 32-21, but Boe picked up the slack, turning aside Princeton chance after Princeton chance with the stick and making some nifty stabs with the glove. “Exactly what you want out of a goaltender,” Harvard coach Katey Stone said of Boe. “To keep you in a game when you’re slow starting and to make the saves you’re supposed to make...
...Shopgirl, Danes has suddenly fully grown up to the woman we’ve seen her become through such movies as “Igby Goes Down,” and she delivers an enchanted performance. Mirabelle is an aspiring artist transplanted to L.A. and then marooned behind the glove counter at Saks. She never wears pants but drives a pickup truck. She is so endearingly out of touch with the modern era that you can’t help but adore her. Danes, wafting around in vintage dresses, is so beautifully understated that she melds right into the part...
...charged off the stage, horns ablaze. Her hands shot upward with the high notes. Her hips hesitated (all style) on the offbeat. Her eyes opened only at the end of the song to catch her opponent’s, stinging like a glove against his cheek.He (in white, shoulders shrugged and feet kicking) responded with appropriate late-’90s finesse to the ska-laced beat of “Frenchy, I’m Faking.” With big band grandeur, two trombones from the band crossed slides, hurling more syncopated grace at the dancer. With sudden...