Word: heyes
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Festival were perplexed at first, afraid that the boss might stifle their creativity. "I should have heard those lines, and I didn't," was his constant complaint during rehearsals of Broadway, a melodrama he had first directed in 1926. But then they remembered the name behind that stern voice. "Hey," said one young actor, "this is George Abbott! We know it's going to work...
...Farmers' Inn, run by farm families, is in the black and riding high. "Hey, you don't know how miserable it was," Jack Brummond, chairman of the board of directors, was explaining the other day. Outside, the wind came off the prairie hard enough to knock you flat, and in the park at the foot of Main Street the Dr Pepper scoreboard by the girls' slow-pitch softball diamond was threatening to leave the state. "This is the social crux of our community. If we don't have this, we live in total segregation. The only other place we have...
...star people just enjoy shouting out to. Walking around Times Square ("my office"), near his home base in Manhattan, he cuts a striking figure in fringed leather, high boots and a trademark bandanna wrapped around his head, an urban swashbuckler whose frigate just got towed away for double parking. "Hey, Miami!" yell a | couple of citizens cruising by in a Chevy convertible. He waves and shouts back as the car runs a light at Broadway. "Miami," Van Zandt sighs. "That means they still know me from Bruce...
...Bonds, like Daddy's Come Home, showed high-end gifts for songwriting, even though he insists, "I hate all ballads, including my own." Still, it was impossible to flourish on his own and hang in with the gang. "I felt," he says, "a more urgent necessity pulling me. Like, 'Hey, it's time to find out if you got something else to contribute here on this planet.' " Men Without Women, his first Little Steven album, released in 1982, was a New York song cycle about hard life on the city streets. The songs were fervent, and the Disciples of Soul...
...from stage lights, finding his moments of repose watching the mysterious turning, turning of airport carrousels, living a life that made more money than sense. A song he wrote in those cockerel days yipped, "I can't stop more than just a few minutes, baby, make love to you, hey, hey, hey, I'm on the road again." Now when he sings it, a rooted New Hampshire householder with a wife and two young sons, there is a note of amazement in his voice: "Did I really do all that crazy stuff...