Word: gung
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Glenn benefits by additions as well as excisions. One tender scene was inspired by a 1959 picture in LIFE magazine of Glenn and his wife sprawled on a day bed. In the movie, Glenn confesses to Annie that his fellow pilots consider him "a gung-ho type." When Annie breaks into giggles, Glenn turns to her with affection. "Oh, you agree? My own wife? Do you think I'm a Dudley Do-Right?" The pair chuckle softly, but not before Glenn strikes a mock heroic pose and delivers a few self-deprecating lines. Director Philip Kaufman, who also wrote...
...line civil rights leaders are also skeptical about a Jackson candidacy. They tend to be more cautious than their gung-ho Chicago colleague, somewhat resentful of his self-promoting style, and above all unwilling to have him act as broker for them in the political arena. Both Benjamin Hooks of the N.A.A.C.P. and Lowery have expressed their reservations. Of the candidates who embrace the black leadership's "people's platform," Lowery says, he will urge support for the one "who has the best chance of helping my vote purchase a one-way ticket west for the present occupant...
...computers now; the majority of them will probably be doing so in five years, at school or at work. So the students sit, rapt, while Jobs spins out his visions. Just a few years ago, they might have been considered shock troops of the computer revolution getting a gung-ho speech from their guerrilla leader. Not today. Now they are the occupying forces listening to a victory address by the field marshal...
When it comes to drinking buddies, they don't come any more gung-ho than Clay Henry of Lajitas, Texas (pop. 55). You might say that Clay's love of the brew has made him the town celebrity. Tourists come by daily to offer him a cool one-or two. Henry ambles over, props himself on the wire fence, grabs the bottle or can of beer between his teeth, and tips the thing over until it is empty. By day's end, his yard is littered with empties. "You wouldn't believe how fast the cans...
...stroke turned Susan Chanslor, then 39, from an athletic, vivacious woman into a wheelchair-bound cripple with some brain damage and recurring bouts of headaches and depression. Two years later Chanslor rented a post office box using a fake name and address, then placed his ads in Gung-Ho and Soldier of Fortune. He received several replies, but last fall the energetic attorney came across a promising five-volume set of books titled How to Kill, by John Minnery, a Canadian weapons expert. Chanslor telephoned Minnery, whom he refers to as Dr. Death, to ask about undetectable poisons, and they...