Word: pabst
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...First Family may help push the roughing-it fashions into high gear. The President-elect clomps around Plains, Ga., in cowhide ankle boots, blue jeans and flannel shirt. Brother Billy breakfasted (on grits and Pabst) at the Best Western Motel in Americus, Ga., last week wearing denims and a blue plaid shirt opened to reveal his new, post-election T shirt emblazoned with REDNECK LOBBYIST. Of course, to them and many Americans the gear look is an old look, something they have been comfortably wearing for years...
...only took three or four of the opening crashing chords to humble Pabst. Supposedly, Pabst spun around in amazement, and then jumped off the podium to stare incredulously Horowitz's hands. At the end, the house rose, screaming hysterically. The leading critic wrote that "not since Hamburg discovered Caruso has there been anything like this...
...huge concert was about to begin in an hour. After a quick shave and a glass of milk, Horowitz dashed off for the concert hall, and entered just as the conductor. Eugen Pabst, was finishing the symphony that was to precede the concerto. Parts to the Tschaikovsky B flat piano concerto had been rushed from the library and placed on the musician's stands...
...Friday night at any of ten thousand watering holes of the small towns and crossroads hamlets of the South. The room is a cacophony of the ping-pong-dingdingding of the pinball machine, the pop-fizz of another round of Pabst, the refrain of Red Necks, White Socks and Blue Ribbon Beer on the juke box, the insolent roar of a souped-up engine outside and, above it all, the sound of easy laughter. The good ole boys have gathered for their fraternal ritual-the aimless diversion that they have elevated into a lifestyle...
...friend, now somewhat lulled by the grease and beer, to the evening's performance. It is a Tuesday night, normally a slow evening, but the Flying Bridge Lounge is packed with a country crowd ready to greet the local boy with rebel yells. Men cradle sweating bottles of Pabst against their paunches and admire the sun-streaked blondes who prance about in cloven dittos and T shirts. The Flying Bridge is without pretension, the kind of lowdown joint Stewart loves to play...