Word: lorded
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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After manfully weathering a chichi London wedding as a satin-suited, ostrich-plumed Lord Fauntleroyish page, the Earl of Sunderland, 5, grandson of the Duke of Marlborough and distant cousin to Sir Winston Churchill, foundered at the subsequent Savoy Hotel reception. His stiff upper lip curling, out came a petulant tongue, and with it, a noise less associated with Belgravia than The Bronx...
Last week, by long-distance telephone, Newhouse bought the Journal for $8,000,000 in cash. The acquisition makes him No. 2 press lord in the U.S., one paper ahead of Hearst's 13 but still behind Scripps-Howard's 18. A man who gets his journalistic kicks in buying papers and making money from them rather than influencing them, Newhouse intends to leave the Journal's editorial staff and policy undisturbed. The Journal's jumbo headquarters on the Willamette River may be sold and its staff moved over to the Oregonian plant several blocks away...
...capturing the phenomenon was as much a revelation to Chagall as to the crowds that last week jammed a specially built pavilion in the Tuileries Gardens to view the panels. He said: "There is the light of the sky in these windows, and the participation of the good Lord. They have completely transformed my vision. They gave me a great shock, made me reflect. I don't know how I shall paint from now on, but I believe something is taking place. I can't say much more because I am still under their influence...
...type Jaguar), once went out at 3 a.m. into the grey vacuum of the London night just to have a look at the outsized eagle atop the new U.S. embassy in Grosvenor Square. Then, taping his show before an audience full of political rebels and comedians (Lord Boothby, Peter Sellers), Sahl warmed them up with a note on his visit to the House of Commons ("I thought the debates were a little mannered; no one used the mace"), acknowledged his introduction as "the next Secretary-General of the United Nations" and swung into his show...
...self-made S. B. Clemens-ish Tycoon, the capable Mother, the daring Young Thing, an impossible Suitor for her, a pious Burglar, a graying Aristocrat, and, of course, the "independent" Foreign Lady who can comment caustically on anything the home-bred figures miss. And, then, they all talk--Lord, how they talk: two straight hours of chatter as each character rises hungrily in turn, like a guppy at the food in a goldfish bowl, to strike his pose and horrify at least a good 1/9th of the audience...