Word: jousting
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...they joust in the courtroom, most lawyers cannot help wondering what it would be like to preside over the arena from the bench. In San Francisco, as part of an innovative antidote to court congestion, a handful of experienced trial attorneys are getting the opportunity to find out. Acting as judges for a day, or sometimes two or three days, they are helping to attack the backlog of civil cases...
...though disillusioned diplomat from J.F.K.'s Alliance for Progress days who disagrees with his new President's policies but must obey orders. When Santa Claran rebels secure a mountaintop where their Chinese supporters intend to plant missiles aimed at the U.S., Hood is off on the last joust of his career...
...unfair, but in three hours I had changed worlds, and I was forced to make comparisons. Were the Gucci shoes and the Lilly sportcoat as expressive as the proud fisherman's beard and straw hat? And the weaver and the crazy woman-was their squabble the same as a joust of honking between a Mercedes and a Bentley? No, emphatically, no. Not Palm Beach: this extravagance could not have the same depth as the simple, slow, island rituals. The islanders' foibles had communicated their self-knowledge. Here, I felt that the foilbes denied that knowledge. Or was I just...
...tape parade on Broadway that surpassed Lindbergh's. Hughes' big flop of World War II−a 200-ton, eight-engine plywood flying boat dubbed the "Spruce Goose," which was only 11 ft. 4 in. shorter than today's 747 superjet−led to a celebrated joust with Maine's Senator Owen Brewster before a congressional committee. Brewster demanded to know why Hughes had spent $18 million in Government funds and produced no flyable plane. Hughes won the publicity battle when he flew the plane for a mile at 70 ft.−the only time...
...Russia, where he endures the blatant irony of having a huge salad of royalty rubles thrust on him, Bech and the head of the Soviet Writers' Union joust with vodka glasses: "He toasts Jack London, I toast Pushkin. He does Hemingway, I do Turgenev. I do Nabokov, he counters with John Reed." Elsewhere, Bech vainly attempts to charm Yevtushenko by describing his own position in America not as a literary lion but as a "graying, furtively stylish rat indifferently permitted to gnaw and roam behind the wainscoting of a firetrap about to be demolished anyway...