Word: jovialities
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...Karachi's Frere Gardens, a group of prominent citizens gathered to do honor to Prime Minister Malik Firoz Khan Noon, a man given to unexpected remarks. They were not disappointed. Jovial Prime Minister Noon, 65, suddenly declared: "Afghanistan and Iran are our closest neighbors, and we all are Moslem brethren. If they desire to confederate with us, I, for my part, am prepared...
...soft-spoken James B. Fisk, executive vice president of Bell Telephone Laboratories, announced that the U.S. would show up anyway, the Communists decided to let their scientists go too. One of Gromyko's top aides, Semyon Tsarapkin, kept a beady eye on things, but the top Soviet scientist, jovial Evgeny Fedorov, turned out on occasion to be freer to make decisions without consulting home than the Westerners (including scientists from Britain, France and Canada). After seven weeks' discussion, the scientists had settled on the value of four main methods of nuclear detection...
...producer this season, 53-year-old Kermit (Look Homeward, Angel] Bloomgarden (TIME, April 21), had the good fortune to form a team of three men with widely varied experience in show business: Composer (You and I, Two in Love] and oldtime Radio Performer Meredith Willson, 56, the jovial lowan who in his first try for the theater wrote book, music and lyrics; Director (No Time for Sergeants, Auntie Mame) Morton Da Costa, 44, who gave the show its sparkle and pace; and the Music Man himself, longtime Cinemactor Robert Preston, 40, known vaguely to millions of moviegoers for years...
...Washington's stately Metropolitan Club, Red Cross President Alfred Gruenther found former Democratic Secretary of State Dean Acheson in a jovial frame of mind. "Why don't you get over to the State Department and do something about all the trouble?" asked Acheson. Half-flattered, Gruenther answered: "Dulles isn't as bad as all that, do you think?" "Oh, I didn't mean you should take over from Foster," shot back Acheson, "but aren't you in charge of disaster areas...
...tousled white hair quivering rhythmically, his ruddy, jovial face radiating glee, Alexander Calder was beating a steady tempo on the African tom-tom. Swirling around him, clanging a Mexican calabash rattle, clattering a huge Swiss cowbell, tinkling a melody on dangling wires, were his friends -writers, painters, musicians. A gentle breeze delicately spun the forest of mobiles hanging from the ceiling of the Connecticut farmhouse. Suddenly "Sandy" Calder stood up, walked outside past sentrylike steel stabiles, shuffled to a nearby creek. Staring at the soft, easy ripples, Calder exclaimed: "Look at those tiny waves, circling, soothing, yet so much alive...