Word: nob
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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This $10 hard-cover book which makes a study of the physical responses to sex of about 700 men and women is already hard to find in the Square. Barnes and Nob'e and the Mandrake Book Store are so'd out. The Coop, after selling ten copies in about as many minutes last week, received a new batch of 100 Tuesday, Yesterday fewer than 40 were left...
...Balenciaga and Simonetta & Fabiani for staples (gathered in the average three to six weeks every other year she spends on a European tour of salons), prefers Galanos and Norell among American designers. Mrs. Jose Cebrian, 32, is no less addicted to small, sit-down dinners held in her Nob Hill apartment, but she unbends once a year when she asks 200 guests (among them always a sprinkling of "creative people") to the Napa Valley family home for a casual afternoon of swimming and games, a formal dinner dance at night...
Forget the status, we need the ante. So quoth Thomas Pickford, 41, founder of the Quorum Club, the dimly lit nob nook in Washington's Carroll Arms Hotel where Bobby Baker pursued his hobbies (and stood them to drinks). Ever since Bobby moved into the spotlight, the Q. Club has had difficulty getting its members to form a Quorum. Now Pickford has dispensed with Robert's Rules of Order. "Your admittance card is your wallet," he assures John Q. Public. "View the celebrated nudes. Wine and dine in one of America's most famous clubs...
...John F. Kennedy as a Communist dupe was "detestable," but he refused to disavow Birchite support. "The John Birch Society is far less of a menace to the U.S. than the Americans for Democratic Action or the U.A.W.," he said. "These are the people who advocate socialism." Up on Nob Hill, Barry got an enthusiastic reception from 2,000 at the Commonwealth Club, and in Sacramento, he predicted that the winner of California's June 2 primary "will be the Republican nominee." Added he: "I intend to win in California...
...Over Nob Hill and the Harvard Yard, across Washington's broad avenues and Pittsburgh's thrusting chimneys, in a thousand towns and villages the bells began to toll. In Caracas, Venezuela, a lone Marine sergeant strode across the lawn of the U.S. embassy while a soft rain fell, saluted the flag, then lowered it to half-mast. At U.S. bases from Korea to Germany, artillery pieces boomed out every half hour from dawn to dusk in a stately, protracted tattoo of grief...