Word: moaned
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Wake up. Reflect on fact that your best friend has won a Rhodes to study at Oxford for two years, your roommate has been accepted to grad school at Dartmouth, your high school boyfriend just signed with Morgan Stanley, and you can't even commit to spring break plans. Moan in despair. Snooze...
What common ground did Terrier and Crimson fans meet upon during the Beanpot finals? Well, we did get two unified groans last night--both connected with the NHI, scoreboard. The Bruins lost to Pittsburgh 4-0--that got a moan of disapproval. But it was the Ottawa-Buffalo score that was so surprising; 4-2 Senators, and the crowd chuckled in delight. Look out, Sabre fans--Ottawa is only 42 points from your fourth playoff spot in the Adams division...
...CRUNCH OR A MOAN BUT a horrified hush spreading through the crowd that signaled the ghastly instant. On the Astroturf at Giants stadium, Jets defensive lineman Dennis Byrd lay motionless, unable to move his hands or legs. With all the power of his 266 lbs. of hurtling flesh, Byrd had unintentionally rammed his helmeted head into the chest of his 275-lb. teammate Scott Mersereau. The impact crumpled a vertebra in Byrd's neck, crushing part of the underlying spinal cord as well as plunging dagger-like slivers of bone into the soft, vital nerve tissue...
...then there's the tree thing. Every year a few people bitch and moan about the presence of this religious artifact in house dining halls and JCRs. I say, bullfeathers. These erstwhile evergreens are about as secular as it gets, unless they're bedecked with a cross or an angel or Donny and Marie Osmond paraphernalia...
...melancholy of divided lives that were Cather's true territory in Maniacs songs like Stockton Gala Days and Gold Rush Brides. "Who were the homestead wives?" the latter asks. "The land was free, yet it cost their lives . . . In letters mailed back home her Eastern sisters they would moan as they would read accounts of madness, childbirth, loneliness and grief." The words are printed like this in the album notes, as if they were bits of homespun prose from some cosmic farmer's almanac; but Merchant sings them with dreamy, insistent fervor, like a reverie from O Pioneers! Or maybe...