Word: golfs
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...antiabortion ads were a major (if tasteful) foray into hot-button advocacy, the Power for Living campaign is closer to pure tract evangelism. Viewers who dial the 800 number receive the 134-page booklet, which employs simple metaphors like a country road or a broken golf club in support of the classic invitation. "All you do is, by an act of your will, say, 'I want You, Jesus, to take over my life.'" Participants in an earlier Power drive in 1983 have claimed that several million people ordered the book...
...twice what they spent in the mid-1980s--on training. And the hottest new training device is the offsite, a company- or department-wide session away from the office. But today's offsite isn't a few meetings in a windowless hotel banquet room followed by a round of golf and cocktails. More likely it's built around a truly exotic challenge, like white-water rafting, tightrope walking, adventure racing, even cooking. The common denominator: it's a group task unrelated to work...
Crippled by a golf injury so painful that he is unable to attend his-infamous dinner, Bronchant is stuck at home with a Pignon who insists on "helping" him. Unwittingly, Pignon manages to unravel almost every part of Bronchant's chic life, from his wife and mistress to his furnishings and fine wine. Yet the farce never becomes a simple enactment of poetic justice; no matter how much Veber paints Pignon as a really likeable, sweet guy who makes matchstick models of famous monuments such as the Eiffel Tower to numb his broken heart, he remains the idiot...
...stood where he dropped me off, in front of a golf course parking lot. I extended my thumb. After several false alarms from arriving golfers, a red hatchback running at full throttle flew by me, only inches from my hopeful digit. A hundred feet down the road, the vehicle lost speed and, with a jerk, spun around with a decisive U-turn. The car accelerated toward me and came to a halt in the unpaved parking lot. I jogged over to the driver's window and asked, "Raglan?" The kid driver with hair in his eyes gave...
...stood where he dropped me off, in front of a golf course parking lot. I extended my thumb. After several false alarms from arriving golfers, a red hatchback running at full throttle flew by me, only inches from my hopeful digit. A hundred feet down the road, the vehicle lost speed and, with a jerk, spun around with a decisive U-turn. The car accelerated toward me and came to a halt in the unpaved parking lot. I jogged over to the driver's window and asked, "Raglan?" The kid driver with hair in his eyes gave...