Word: kinds
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...neither a star nor a mogul nor a person caught up, Henry Louis Gates-style, in a controversial news event, Ben Silverman drew a lot of media attention. His job was to find or help create hit shows - the kind of network position that usually brings power and wealth, but not notoriety. But Silverman's outsize personality - big parties, big talk, big ideas - and his youth made him a magnet for gossip, anecdotes and media speculation. Problem was, two years into his term, NBC had exactly zero hit shows. And people noticed...
...Silverman's other innovation was to package programming and advertising together, so the entertainment would be inextricable from the marketing. His iteration of Knight Rider was sponsored by Ford. American Express was all over Restaurant, which, while not a lasting hit, was something of a marketing juggernaut. This kind of barrier-busting is what, officially, Silverman will be doing with the new company he's forming with Diller. It seems a natural fit and a no-brainer decision for both of them. But as Silverman learned the hard way at NBC, in entertainment, nothing is as easy as it looks...
...wasn't the kind of boxer whose name resonated among the general public, like Oscar de la Hoya or Mike Tyson. But Arturo Gatti, the Canadian boxer who died July 11 at age 37 after being strangled in a Brazilian hotel room--by his wife, according to police--was an icon among sophisticated fans. And he was an icon for a reason that exists only in boxing, which is that it didn't matter if he won or lost...
...employee of Harvard Magazine, tells the police dispatcher that she saw two gentlemen "pushing the door in" to the home and that the screen door had been broken. When asked by the dispatcher if the men were white, black, or Hispanic, Whalen said that one of the individuals looked "kind of Hispanic" but that she was unable to see the other clearly...
...during the day. My mother regularly drops me off at lunch with my friends; she's even offered to drive me to bars before. At the end of a night out, my pals jokingly yell "Not it!" when it comes time to decide who drives me home. Once, a kind girlfriend drove me to the other side of the county so that I could attend a meeting with a literary agent, while she waited downstairs at a Coffee Bean. As much as I wanted to pretend that it was sort of like being an executive with a car service...