Word: lunches
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Moslem teetotaler and nonsmoker for many years, he made a point of rising early, spending some time at prayer and then eating a frugal breakfast of milk, toast and honey. Next came audiences in the throne room that he had had constructed in the hotel, followed by a minuscule lunch, a nap, and a relaxing hour or two with his daughters and their children. Dinner usually consisted of a glass of milk, and bedtime was before 11 p.m. In the past year, Saud kept two full-time doctors by his side; he suffered from assorted ills, including kidney and liver...
Ogden Corp.'s Ralph Ablon wanted to expand into housing construction. He simply phoned Los Angeles Architect Charles Luckman, whom he had never met, and proposed a discussion. Luckman flew to New York. In just two hours over lunch at Manhattan's 21 Club, where myriad American mergers are made, Luckman agreed to join Ogden in exchange for common stock...
...past has dealt fondly and ruefully with flawed and crummy people (Billy Liar, Jubb), starts in an ordinary way-burying his hero to the neck in an anthill of character defects. What is unusual is that Waterhouse then proceeds to spread a blanket, unpack a box lunch, and invite the reader to watch the fun. William, the hero, is a 35-year-old Londoner of such low spiritual energy that he cannot be said to have anything so definite as a desire. But when he remembers to be wistful, he thinks vaguely that it would be nice if his life...
Smell It. "There is a future here," said Dani over lunch, served in the communal mess hall and consisting of salty consomme, spicy stewed beef with curry rice, bananas and orangeade. "We can develop this entire region both as a bountiful source of winter produce and as a winter resort. Our problem is what to do in summer. The temperatures go up to 120°." He sees his job purely as pioneering and, in the process, establishing ownership of the land, regardless of any criticism from the outside world that Israel is staking its claims prematurely. "If someone says...
...guess that really was a long time ago; it has been a while since we sang Birdie's playful ode to teen-age idols ("We love you Conrad/ Oh, yes we do-oo/ We love you Conrad/ And we'll be true-oo") during giddy lunch hours. Roll has fled the rock forever, and the music we used to "pony" to has been usurped by sounds much closer to pot, orgasms, and revolutions than to late-night necking parties and coke...