Word: jades
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Sarit valued lovely women more than the rarest jade or the whitest elephant. For all that, no beauty contests were permitted during his rule, and as a result, his country had not named a Miss Thailand in ten years. The reason was simple: before he took power, Field Marshal Sarit had pursued beauty-contest winners with the same zeal he later applied to Communists. Embarrassed by Sarit's extraterritorial demands, the government simply banned the contests, and when Sarit seized government control through a military coup in 1957, he decided it would look better if the ban stayed...
...Fondling Pieces." Naturally, a plethora of stereotyped gifts is available: pen sets, leather-tooled engagement calendars, letter openers, diaries, rulers, cigarette lighters and ashtrays. San Francisco's Gump's is doing a big corporate business in "fondling pieces," otherwise useless hunks of jade that come in a suede pouch (price: $8.25). This year executives can also give and get desk-scale Rolls-Royce radiators, fused into everything from paperweights to cigar lighters to book ends...
...silvery Cessna Wren scudded high above the Plain of Jars, and the tiny man in rumpled fatigues peered down through eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion. Below him the wind moved casually over apple-green downs, setting the jade-colored rice fields to shivering. A few pagodas, their tiled roofs torn by howitzer shells, yawned at the sun. On the barren hilltops, orange-colored lines of slit trenches spread like ringworm across the Plain of Jars, which had been fought over for three years by Communist Pathet Lao troops and neutralist forces. The tired little passenger in the Wren was neutralist...
...shrewd, patient negotiator whose efforts, perhaps more than anyone else's, had made a favorable cloture vote likely. With great deliberation Dirksen took off his tortoise-shell spectacles, revealing his sad, bloodhound eyes underlined by deep, dark pouches. In his massive left hand, its little finger flourishing a green jade ring, he held a twelve-page speech he had typed the night before on Senate stationery...
Josef Marx, his obos reed seemingly tucked between John L. Lewis eyebrows and a cropped white beard, looks very like a Rabellaisian mandarin one might see displayed (a la jade figurine) in the window of an ancient Chinese antique shoppe. Marx's very presence as a performer, and the natoriety of his unorthodox tone, had steeled many in the audience for an onslaught. As the first few notes burst from the bell of his oboe the remaining faces, already beginning to harden into that controlled boredom of the concert-goer's mask, registered something between discomfort and shock...