Word: manhattans
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...have long thought they had correctly estimated the annual incidence of lead poisoning in children. New York City has had an average of about 600 cases a year reported for the past decade. Baltimore has averaged 25, Cleveland 50, Chicago 155. But at a conference held last week at Manhattan's Rockefeller University, researchers suggested that these figures are gross underestimates. New York City may have as many as 30,000 cases, and the total for the U.S. may run as high as 225,000. The fact is that no one really knows, and the experts cannot even agree...
...author of this hedonistic, gormandizing prayer is a Christian clergyman of serene faith. For 20 years, Robert Farrar Capon, 43, has been an Episcopal priest in Port Jefferson, N.Y., an old Long Island shipbuilding town on the edge of the Manhattan commuter belt. He lives with his wife Peg, their six children, two cats (named Anthony and Bartholomew) and a nondescript dog in a century-old house adjoining his small white clapboard church. At dinner time, the sweet cooking aromas wafting out of the old rectory hint at the true nature of a man who is no ordinary country vicar...
Camels are for deserts, cigarette packages, Christmas cards, circuses and zoos. Most camels, that is. An exception must be made in the case of the incredibly lifelike, lifesize, unnervingly dignified Bactrians created by Manhattan's Nancy Graves, 28, a graduate of the Yale University art school and a former painter. She builds her camels on wood and steel armatures, stuffs them with polyurethane, covers them with goat hair or sheep's wool tinted with brown oil paint. She adds carefully molded toes and ears of cast acrylic, and voild!-the result makes a taxidermist's liveliest effort...
Three of these remarkable beasts stood last week, grazing or reflectively chewing their cud, in a rectangular pasture that was actually a blue-lit room in Manhattan's Whitney Museum. The dim light evoked the ambience of a silent desert night, but what chiefly provided the mood-a wonderfully eerie mood of austere melancholy-was the shambling, work-scarred beasts. Their hair was realistically matted, their baleful glass eyes shaded by the camel's peculiar glamour-girl eyelashes. One even wore a camel's remote, superior smile...
...Gutman was a strange man. Son of a Wall Street stockbroker, he made a fortune in the stock market, and at the age of 29 conceived a passion for antique jewelry. He never married, and for the last 34 years of his life he never strayed far from his Manhattan apartment. When he died last year at the age of 81, he had amassed an almost unequaled collection of some 2,000 examples of the jeweler's skills...