Word: hums
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...Russia. An immense show of wealth, concealing poverty. The landau at the door, the servants in the attic." At lunch there were long silences between toasts, broken at last by Attlee, who abruptly asked: "How do you get your milk in Moscow?" The Russians told them, in a laborious hum of translation, broken by the clear, social-worker voice of Dr. Edith: "I'm not interested in yield. What about safety? Are all your supplies pasteurized...
...When the hum of mutual compliments and tinkling of glasses had died away, it looked as if the gallery would soon have funds for not one but two rest rooms. To some Woodstock's gaiety seemed too close to complacency-none of the big names had produced works for the occasion that were important, or even particularly adventurous. Grumbled Abstract Sculptor Herman Cherry: "Cocktail parties . . . flourish like poison ivy in this vicinity." But most Woodstock artists find that oil and Martinis mix well enough, and that art need not be great to be worth while...
...stars a quiet, wry, young (26) comedian named Orson Bean who has a happy way with a joke. On a set simulating Manhattan's Blue Angel nightclub, Bean casually introduces a few expert acts (including, on one program, Comic Leo De Lyon, who can whistle and hum two songs at once) and spends the rest of the all-too-brief half an hour in bland comedy. Example: the prizes for a contest run by the National Kumquat Growers' Association - $5,000 worth of sneakers (size 17E), six miles of dental floss, an all-expense, two-week vacation trip...
...Stars. From the oldtime start, the music came gradually up to date. Things really began to hum when Bop Trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie took the stage with his quintet. Looking bemused and gesturing wildly, he set his cocked trumpet* to his lips and played Gabriel-like tones that sent chills up the listeners' spines. "See, that's a square bend," he explained, pointing to the upswept angle. "Well, I get a sort of square note out of there. When you say 'Pow-w-w,' it comes out like a pounding-like a pounding of bricks...
...been moderately successful songwriters individually and admirers of each other's work. Both could write both words and music. A large part of their collaboration, they discovered after getting together, turned on a spontaneous veto-rule: one of them would suggest an idea for a lyric or hum a snatch of melody; if the other actively opposed it, out it went without argument. Some days, when working to a deadline, they might draft all but the last eight bars of a song, and each go home to dream up his own solution. After that, a song usually got about...