Word: handlebars
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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William J. Lederer, co-author of "The Ugly American," is a man who likes to tell stories. He peppers his conversation with a frequent "That reminds me...," and puffing slowly on a handlebar pipe, he will tell you about China, Thailand, Indonesia, Vietnam, 20-odd years in the Navy, and--after a year as writer-in-residence at Kirkland House--a lot about Harvard...
...inhabitants of the rugged Pennsylvania mountain country around Shade Gap (pop. 140), he was known as "Bicycle Bill" because of the battered, red bike he always rode, head down, carrying one of his mongrel dogs in a handlebar basket. His real name was William Diller Hollenbaugh. Short, skinny and stooped, missing five front teeth, he had spent six of his 44 years in prison, 13 in an insane asylum. Since moving to the Shade Gap area several years ago, he had lived as a hermit in a two-room hilltop shack, subsisting on wild game and state relief checks...
Upon a Tractor, a TV special promoting the U.N., she jumps on the Bond-wagon with a chase across several mythical countries, disguising herself as a soldier with brown wig and handlebar mustache, leaping off a pier into the Tiber River-all to elude villains long enough to plead a cause before the U.N. The real James Bond would have had no use for any one of them. He liked his girls dependent. As he observed in Goldfinger, women of the Jane Bond type are simply "unhappy sexual misfits-barren and full of frustrations, girls whose hormones have got mixed...
Massing along the motorcade's route, hundreds of Peronistas broke through police lines and swirled around the presidential Cadillac, hooting at Illia and cheering for De Gaulle and Perón. At one point, the surging crowd jammed the handlebar of an escorting motorcycle through the Cadillac's left rear window, slightly cutting Illia. The limousine carrying the First Ladies was forced onto the sidewalk. An hour later, rioting broke out again near where De Gaulle was to lunch. This time, police submachine guns sprayed bullets over the crowd. Tear gas filled the square. Fire hoses broke...
...looking for trouble. They raided cafes for dishes and glasses to throw, knives and forks to brandish, chased each other up the beaches and down the streets under a hail of rocks and crockery. On the promenade, herds of noisy Rocker motorcycles roared incessantly; buzzing them in hand-to-handlebar combat were enough Mod motor scooters to hold mass Vespa services...