Word: landings
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...think things are pretty bleak in Dearborn, Mich. A new CEO, Alan Mulally, is parachuting in from Boeing, supposedly armed with turnaround tools that will put Ford in the black. One part of the company's luxury division, Aston Martin, is on the auction block, and Jaguar and Land Rover may soon follow. Wall Street has lost confidence: Ford's stock, which closed at $8.77 a share last week after a recent run-up, is still valued at less than the company's cash on hand. This week Ford is expected to unveil a revision of its Way Forward plan...
...tend to be a little looser and girls' quadriceps muscles (at the front of the thigh) are often stronger than their hamstrings (at the back of the thigh), destabilizing the knee. Many soccer coaches have learned to address the problem by spending more time drilling girls on how to land properly and encouraging them to build up their hamstrings...
...door fee at Sr Mfumo Jazz Bar (formerly Chez Rangel). Most people still get by on just $40 a month. It's been 10 years since I first visited Maputo. Back then, just three years after the end of a civil war that left the country littered with land mines, this kind of cool did not exist. The shops had food, but few luxuries, mailboxes were little more than garbage cans, and the way forward was along unmarked roads gouged with potholes. There was jazz - the Costa do Sol, at the end of [an error occurred while processing this directive...
...like a curtain, and a speedboat came rocketing towards us. Casta?o had sent the boat. Thoughtfully, he'd also provided rain slickers for us. We bounded across the choppy water, into the seam of black clouds. The journey lasted an hour, with lightning spearing around us. Finally, we sighted land. I don't know if it was Panama or Colombia; it was all jungle. But the launch pulled up at a dock and a farmhouse materialized in the mist. I could make out the silhouettes of towering mercenaries who looked like they had been outfitted from the back pages...
...didn't. It was a big deal getting to Casta?o, and TIME's then World editor, Joshua Ramo, was flying down from New York to join us. His flight had been delayed. No matter, says Casta?o: "There's a pasture on the other side of the hill, he can land there in a small plane." We called Ramo in Cartagena. Ramo was an expert pilot, a stunt flier and he enthusiastically agreed to meet us in a cow pasture at 7 a.m. We spent the night in a lodge half an hour's walk down the coast...