Word: harold
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Before long, Loesser's Frank Music Corp. had the new labor force organized. Admen could buy high-test jingles written by the firm's herd of known and unknown songwriters. Some of the knowns: Adler, Harold Rome (Destry Rides Again), Charles Strouse and Lee Adams (Bye Bye Birdie), and Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh (Wildcat). Authorship is not revealed until the tune has been sold. "It's embarrassing," explained the firm's vice president, Stuart Ostrow, "for an important writer to go to bat for Pepsodent and be turned down." Average price, not including sizable royalties...
...minstrels began trudging, two champions of the downtrodden appeared, neither one a folk singer: Harold Humes, a 35-year-old writer who is good at writing novels (The Underground City) and miserably inept at ingratiating himself with police; and John Mitchell, a coffeehouse proprietor currently protesting one of Manhattan's customary coffeehouse operating expenses, the police shakedown. (Deputy Police Commissioner Walter Arm admitted last week that "we have an uneasy hunch that some cops take money.") Humes and Mitchell spoke loudly about free speech, the sorry behavior of police officers, and the logical theory that Village real estate...
...buyers they will hate themselves for not trying the Lark first. Egbert is moving ahead on a program to absorb Studebaker's tax loss credits ($94 million) by merging with prosperous companies. It was the slow pace of this program that led to the easing of former President Harold E.Churchill into a consultant's post and the hiring of Egbert...
After one such evening, Harold asks Barbara, "Do I imagine it or is it true that when they speak of the Nazis-the very next sentence is invariably some quite disconnected remark about Americans...
...Harold's Teeth. A New Yorker editor for the past 25 years, William Maxwell, 52, writes with more than a trace of the rueful resignation and wry disenchantment of much New Yorker fiction. His massive restraint sometimes brings his narrative to a dead halt; his quietness of tone sometimes verges on the inaudible. He can reduce the bone-wearying comic horrors of travel to a sentence as when Harold Rhodes, burdened with two lead-weight suitcases, just makes a train: "The station agent took their tickets gravely from between Harold's teeth." He has not created profound characters...