Word: jacket
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...indeed. In Plymouth, after a half-hour warmup by the folksy, dungareed, unnamed back-up band, a figure became distinguishable at stage rear. It was a masked man in a gray cowboy hat and black leather jacket, looking slender and spindly, picking his way cautiously forward through the microphones and cables. He gave his guitar a few licks and then, from behind the mask, started singing. The applause began to grow. After a pulsating rendition of an old favorite, It Ain 't Me, Babe, he pulled back the mask to reveal the familiar ironic smile and hawk...
Joyce (James Booth) appears wearing a jacket with shamrocks on it, spouts limerick after limerick and intermittently becomes Lady Bracknell. Tzara (Tim Curry) comes on with a pair of scissors, slices up a Shakespeare sonnet, dumps the lines into a top hat, and extrapolates them as gibberish to show that antiart reigns supreme. In the Wildean substructure of Travesties, Tzara doubles as John Worthing (Earnest in town-Jack in the country). Carr once again plays his friend Algy. Lenin (Harry Towb) has no role in Earnest. Isolatedly aloof, he delivers a stinging diatribe on the duties of an artist...
...finally hung up my popcorn rack and starched jacket in the tenth grade but at opening game freshman year I remember identifying more closely with my white coated cohorts than the tweed and topsider crowd which had plagued my wonder years...
...STANDOUTS in a generally fine cast are Davis Goodman as the effeminate Wren and Sam Bloomfield as Mr. Paravicini. Goodman minces marvelously through his role as the child-like homosexual, and Bloomfield, clad in an elegant dinner jacket and bedizened with rings, gives a superbly controlled performance as the uninvited guest. Also good is Mark Howard, appropriately manic as Detective Sergeant Trotter. Nancy Abrams makes a stony-faced Mrs. Boyle, although her carefully accented syllables sound too much like metered poetry...
...atmosphere within the stadium was moneyed and genteel. In front of my seat (halfway down the third-base line) was a tie-and-jacket, there was a tie-and-jacket to my left, and behind me and slightly to my right, two fur coats. Especially at the start of the game, it seemed as if an entire Boston Symphony Orchestra audience had mistakenly shown up, somewhat bewildered but nonetheless quite polite, at a baseball stadium. The crowd--or rather, the audience--was not so much enthusiastic as appreciative. They did not clap, they applauded; and if they did clap, they...