Word: murray
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Accommodating the Carter crowd has posed some delicate problems for the Green Book's new publisher, Jean Shaw Murray, 50, whose late mother Carolyn Hagner Shaw and grandmother Helen Ray Hagner have made the rules for Washington's social games as the register's publishers since 1930. Carter Appointee Mary King, for example, is certainly the deputy director of ACTION, which oversees such volunteer programs as the Peace Corps and VISTA, but Mrs. Murray sternly ruled that King be listed simply-and only-as the wife of Peter Bourne, special assistant to the President. In the Green...
Then there was the touchy question of how to list the President. Nicknames are not permitted in the Green Book, but the White House nixed James E. Carter Jr. and insisted on just plain Jimmy. Sniffs Mrs. Murray: " 'Jimmy.' Now really!" Indeed for her, Washington is just not the same these days, thanks to James E. Carter Jr. Says she: "Doing away with Ruffles and Flourishes and Hail to the Chief! What does he accomplish by making everything so commonplace...
...been left teetering near bankruptcy by the collapse of land prices. His friend and financial adviser, Len Wincobank, is serving a four-year prison term for fraud. Kitty Friedmann loses a foot and her husband in a random terrorist bombing. Keating's lover, Alison Murray, has a teen-age daughter jailed for reckless driving in a Balkan Communist state. "England was a safe, shabby, mangy old lion now," she mused. "Anyone could tweak her tail...
...Farmer Brown jokes aside, the Woodsmen (ugh) are 4-0 this year and have their best squad since the era of Bob Blackman, Murray Bowden, Jim Chasey, and Brendon O'Neill at the turn of the decade. In 1970 Dartmouth finished its season undefeated and ranked 15th in the nation, the last Ivy squad...
...claims to be an expert on the whole sweep of Western Music and stuff. On top of that, he's convinced that all they're playing in there is the "extended-play," disco versions of the classics. Not even six weeks in there, and already he's Murray the K, up on his high moped. This friend of mine, he couldn't tell an E-Flat Sonata from E. Frank Sinatra from a can of V-Flat Soda, just between you, me and this turntable...