Word: lot
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Joseph Kopechne declared themselves "satisfied" last month by Edward Kennedy's televised explanation of the events surrounding their daughter's death. But now Mary Jo's parents feel bitter, ignored and increasingly puzzled. "I'm waiting to get an awful lot of answers," Mrs. Kopechne told TIME'S David Whiting last week. She and her husband, who live in Berkeley Heights, N.J., are considering attending the Sept. 3 inquest at Edgartown in the hope of getting the answers they want...
Once brought under the Mob's umbrella, a business almost always ceases to operate legitimately. If it is a restaurant ?favorite targets?or a nightclub, it buys coal or oil from one LCN affiliate, rents linen from another, ships garbage out through still another. Its entertainers, parking-lot attendants and even its hat check girls must always be approved by the Mob?and sometimes they must kick back part of what they take in. When the gangsters were big in Las Vegas, they sometimes used skimmed cash to supplement the fees paid to featured performers. The under-the-table...
Even if they are surrounded by enemies ready to pounce at their first lapse, public figures can get away with a lot if their misdeeds are only a matter of gossip. The U.S. President, in particular, is well insulated against excessively prying eyes. Warren Harding employed the Secret Service to keep watch over his liaisons in the White House. Franklin Roosevelt's affair with his wife's social secretary, Lucy Mercer, was successfully kept out of print even though it almost broke up his marriage. Washington gossips amused themselves with stories about John Kennedy's attentiveness...
...paint that fence and why you thought your boredom was more profound than that of an eight-year-old who got tired of the same old toys (you never said it was, but you were close enough to eight to remember vaguely that eight-year-old Weltschmerz was a lot profounder than the man talking...
...adequate. He then took his binocular case full of tickets to the hundred dollar cashiers and watched them push a bundle of coarse bills at him--his original investment plus their many happy new companions. He then bid me adieu and strolled to his Merceds in the Aqueduct parking lot and vanished into the Long Island mist...