Word: nasalized
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Case's opening statement rambled from South Dakota weather (blustery) to his family remedy for sinus headaches (a nasal jelly). But there were some hard facts. On Jan. 25. said Case, he received word from South Dakota that a Nebraska lawyer named John Neff had contributed $2,500 to his campaign. Since Case had never received more than $300 in a single contribution, the news "sort of took my breath away." The donation was especially puzzling because Neff's name "did not mean anything to me." Case therefore checked around, learned that Neff had been asking around about...
...proboscis monkeys from Borneo. Roxanne, the female, looks like an ordinary monkey, but Cyrano, the male, has a long, drooping, flexible nose that would make the fortune of a TV comedian. Perhaps Roxanne admires the nose, but it has no use except to give Cyrano's cry a nasal, down-East twang...
...finest music on the program was Prokofiev's Sonata No. 1, which is dedicated to Oistrakh. It opened with dark, slightly nasal low tones, sang its way up to the bright blossom of a double-stop and continued to sing to the last gay note. Highlights: a section of muted runs up and down the fingerboard that felt like being brushed with feathers, and a section that had the mysterious beauty of a girl singing to herself by a forest pool. When it was over, the crowd was too moved to cheer until the violinist came back...
...Wilson; buttoned, homespun Coolidge more than Harding; Hoover, the self-made great engineer in a day when almost every man dreamed he was an engineer, more than Coolidge; Roosevelt, at his fireside, more than Hoover; plain Harry Truman more than Roosevelt; and Eisenhower, America's idealistic, practical, slightly nasal voice, more than Truman. Was this trend, as John Adams would have suspected, the inevitable result of the leveling factor in democracy? Or had it a subtler and more contemporary meaning...
...picture offers one spiffy spoof of the '205, a Prohibition party with hoofing on the pool table, dunking in the fish pond and a charge at the punch bowl with drawn sabers. And there are some swell lines for those who relish the era's nasal note of prosperous disillusion. "There won't ever be no patter of little feet in my house," drones one pickled tomato, "unless I want to rent some mice." Best of all, Ella Fitzgerald and Peggy Lee sing real well, and pretty often...