Word: guts
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...just pop to begin with. Buffett grew up in Mobile, Alabama, listening to the same Hank Williams and Jimmy Rodgers classics that whelped the Grand Ole Opry Empire of the Nashville Moguls, a philistine crew who breed for violin affinity, not for rasp'n'roll or the truckstop gut-wrench. But the Buffett derivation went the other way, toward the fringes. Lotta room out there on the fringes: Willie Nelson and Waylon "I Don't Think Hank Done It Thisaway" Jennings were there already, Texas, noses to the ground, developing a sound that relied on electric and accoustic and pedal...
Which brings me to my first point--the pathetic close to the 1977 season has left me with this gnawing feeling in my gut, despite a carefully-planned winter diet of Quincy House rice pilaf and spinach ravioli. You see, the N.L. got wasted...
This sudden student opposition to the constitution could be a simple gut reaction to something new and a consequence of the proclivity of Harvard students to find fault in almost anything. If so, there is a definite possibility that convention members could sway this negative reaction by illustrating their faith in the new constitution as the best alternative to the fairly miserable current state of student influence on policy decisions at Harvard. A lot depends on the impressions students have about the authors of the constitution If there is a feeling that the convention delegates are building castles...
Bull riding (an intercollegiate sport rarely found in the East) is his special event. Possibly America's craziest--if not most dangerous--sport, bull riding tests the gut-level courage of the contestants as they climb onto the back of three-quarters of a ton of enraged beefsteak and try to hang on for an eight second count. Doug has managed a couple of times to go the full count, and that's no small accomplishment...
...pile of cow dung, feeding two grotesque pigs, both part wild boar. Inside the smoky communal hut, couples in hides and rough wool garments squat around the fire, spit-roasting a heavy pork leg and preparing sausages and black pudding made from skin, offal and gut. John Rossetti sheds his clothes, steps into a wood tub and begins to scrub off five days' grime with clay and hot water. John Rockcliff enters through the goatskin door, carrying a rat he has caught. It will be on the menu tomorrow...