Word: nervousness
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...city is more nervous, but no European capital is today gayer or more frivolous. With no blackouts, no curfews, no ration cards to worry about, Bucharest's 900,000 sophisticated, easygoing, sensuous citizens are at last earning the title which the city long ago assumed but never quite deserved-"Paris of the East." The Nippon bar, hangout of lonely, pleasure-bent males, and the Colorado, more elegant and respectable cabaret, keep open nightly until 5:30 a.m. On the less naughty side of Bucharest serious politicians relax at famed Café Capsa. The big, swanky outdoor terrace...
About the immediate cause of angina, doctors know practically nothing. They suspect that the violent pain arises from some kink in the nervous system. Standard treatment is rest, easy living. Anything may bring on an attack: anger, bad news, indigestion, physical strain, and each attack may be the last. A victim may live several decades, may die in an hour. To ease their agonizing pain, most sufferers carry a supply of tiny nitroglycerin tablets in their pockets...
Scene of Dr. Raney's operation is the sympathetic nervous system, an intricate barbwire fence of delicate nerves which control such involuntary functions as digesting, blushing, sweating, weeping, vomiting. Held in dynamic balance by the restraining influence of the "parasympathetic nervous system," the sympathetic system steams up when the body signals full speed ahead. During an attack of angina, a patient shows all the outward signs of "sympathetic overactivity" except one. He perspires, his stomach expands, his heart throbs in violent tempo. But for some reason his coronary blood vessels, instead of expanding, contract. In this perverse, mysterious contraction...
...smoke-blackened, pseudo-Renaissance pile of the Carnegie Institute at Pittsburgh come canvases from all over Europe and the U. S. for the Carnegie International, world's biggest competitive show of contemporary painting. In the Institute's galleries they are expertly hung by Jack Nash, a slight, nervous, white-pated ex-jockey. Once the jury of award did the hanging, but for the past 20 years Director Homer Saint-Gaudens has given the job to Jack, who pays small heed to names, more to effect. Jack has seen enough Carnegie juries in action to learn what the public...
...Your Toes has suffered a see change. Even Slaughter on Tenth Avenue, a high point of the original version, has no more bang than the pop-pistol percussion with which the orchestra burlesques its pantomime killings. Alan Hale, Frank McHugh, Leonid Kinskey fling flat gags around with as much nervous energy as if they were hand grenades, but they never go off. Typical duds: "We are waiting for Levsky"; "Aha! mutiny on the ballet...