Word: leathered
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...shoe industry," says Congressman James A. Burke of Massachusetts, a chief promoter of curbs, "is seeking a reasonable solution such as quotas based on the 1968 import levels, perhaps allowing for a 5% increase per year." Industry spokesmen claim that expanding imports of leather and vinyl shoes-mostly from Italy and Japan -have for years absorbed all the growth in the U.S. market. Since 1955, imports have risen from 8,000,000 pairs representing only a 1% share of the domestic market to last year's 175 million pairs, or about 21% of the market. "No other industry that...
...businesses divide up their home markets. As a result, the Japanese have erected a bewildering maze of restrictive regulations. Foreign-owned firms can make wire but not cable, cameras but not lenses, watches or clocks but not both. Imports of 120 items, including such U.S. specialties as computers and leather goods, are either banned or severely limited...
Nancy Grossman, 29, a petite (5 ft., 95 lbs.) bundle of compressed fiber, is an other leading member of the new horror school. Her specialty: wooden heads, tightly leather-wrapped. She came to this image when she returned to New York City after the family tried farming in upstate New York. "I noticed how fragile people are. I saw how the human animal has to limit himself to live in our society-how he has to tie up any feelings he has that might upset the applecart...
...seems that the Narthex of the Lampoon went over to "check out the scene" at University Hall at around midnight in the midst of the SDS occupation. He found the radicals so boring that he fell asleep in a big leather chair upstairs in the faculty room with his double-breasted blue blazer wrapped around him. He awoke when the police were at the door; by then the otiose Poonie didn't have a chance of leaving the building as the stairways were crowded with police-ready militants...
...brassy sound of the studio band cuts off, the lights go down, a spotlight flicks on, picks up the broad back of a big man wearing a black frock coat, striped pants, patent-leather boots and a six-string guitar. The figure swivels around and drawls, "Hello-I'm Johnny Cash." At that, the 3,006 people who have been smothering their enthusiasm back in the cavernous depths of the Grand Old Opry House break loose like a thunderstorm on a hot July day. For like the man said-it's Johnny Cash...