Word: homespun
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Pickled Okra & Oil Lamps. In some ways, Lady Bird's tastes are militantly homespun. Her favorite recipes are for turkey dressing, spinach souffle, double divinity and pickled okra. She likes to watch television, talk on the telephone, hunt deer, shoot doves, take home movies. She recalls with pride her childhood on an isolated Texas farm: "I used an oil lamp until I was nine years old, and I can remember what a big day it was when we finally got indoor plumbing...
Only to Ask. Perhaps not-although Johnson acquitted himself well last week, mixing homespun answers and facts and figures with impressive assurance. Even Kennedy did not feel entirely easy in the gang conference, and to a degree had become its prisoner. Moreover, Johnson's cozy, manageable and unheralded press assemblies may very well liberate more news. And any time the President wants to go on TV, he has only...
Adenauer was "a lemon on a flagpole," Gandhi "a pyramid of homespun cloth topped with a dried prune," George Bernard Shaw "the devil's Santa Claus," John D. Rockefeller "the mummy of Rameses II." Churchill had a face "put together like early rose potatoes"; Franklin D. Roosevelt was "a fox grafted onto a lion" who "used his jaw as men use hands and elephants use trunks." If the descriptions sound like notes for a cartoon to be drawn later, there is good reason. The words belong to Emery Kelen, a Hungarian-born caricaturist who has spent most...
...division finishes. But this was a time for heroics, and Alston hardly seemed the man to ignite any team. He was still the dour, noncommittal ex-shop teacher from Darrtown, Ohio, the fellow who struck out the only time he ever got to bat in the big leagues, the homespun country boy who played percentages so devoutly that the Dodgers paid a fulltime statistician to do his arithmetic. Every fall Alston signed a blank contract, then waited till spring to find out how much the Dodgers were going to pay him (currently: $45,000)-if indeed he was still...
...tough," says Secretary McNamara. "Orville is a man," says Bobby Kennedy. "He's a bulldog," says a member of Congress. Says Freeman himself: "I admire two-fisted people. Pussyfooting around doesn't appeal to me." Though he is a city boy, Freeman sometimes seems a bit homespun by New Frontier standards. His speech is sprinkled with harmless little bromides such as "You can't get halfway up a hill-you got to go all the way." His favorite movie fare is gunsmoky westerns...