Word: hearsts
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...pick of the draft, the dream began to unravel. Walton was plagued by injuries and played just part of his first two seasons. Caught up on the fringes of radical politics, he was questioned by the FBI when it was suspected that one of his friends had harbored Patty Hearst during her days as a fugitive. Introspective and reclusive in a world of exhibitionists, Walton was a vegetarian who preferred a lumberjack's wool shirts to superfly fur coats...
...William Faulkner, Rebecca West, Willa Cather and other major writers found him a staunch and generous companion. Marc Connelly and William Saroyan phoned him when they needed money. One of the few dissenters was Evelyn Waugh, who called him, with characteristic bile, "an emaciated Jew lately promoted within the Hearst organization from editing a weekly paper devoted to commercial chemistry...
Waugh was miles off the mark. Even at 80, Herbert Mayes is still lithe, but he has never been emaciated, anatomically or creatively. And though he once edited Hearst's monthly American Druggist, he was, when Waugh wrote for him in the 1940s, one of the nation's most eminent magazine editors. By the time he retired in 1969, Mayes had guided the old Pictorial Review, as well as Town & Country, Cosmopolitan, Good Housekeeping and McCall...
...houses come gardens. A big house is one way to establish Paradise, but a garden, historically, is a more appropriate place to start. The childish "What if that envisions a mansion is not nearly so ambitious as one that seeks to transplant cypresses from one soil to another (as Hearst did in San Simeon) or to display the rarest species. (After seeing Lionel Rothschild's Japanese garden in London, the Japanese Ambassador was said to remark: "We have nothing like this in Japan.") Versailles, the model of gardening for so many big spenders, must have had Eden...
...perhaps the most endearing virtue of big spenders is that they are wonderfully entertaining. There is nothing like them. If a conga line could be made up extending from Qin Shihuang and Elagabalus, through Hearst, the sheiks and Allan Carr, we would need no Broadway shows. It is not just their poly urethane clouds and disco chambers; it is their hilarious innocence, their religious concentration on themselves. What's more, they rarely know how entertaining they are. Nero, for example, when he entered his Golden House with its statue of him self, 120 feet high, and its private lake...