Word: pig
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Winton ("Red") Blount, the incoming Postmaster General, keeps a pet pig named Elvira on his 60-acre spread near Montgomery, Ala. The Blounts also have a summer place on nearby Lake Martin, where they entertain friends and family aboard a Chinese junk. Robert Finch, who will be Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare in the new Cabinet, sometimes sports socks with holes the size of a half-dollar. He turned up recently at a dressy function in a green shirt that he had worn all day working around the house. Says a friend: "I think he puts on clothes just...
...live on "discards from the big house on the hill," Negro slaves-as well as many poor white tenant farmers-learned to make edible meals out of the vegetables and meats that their masters regarded as waste. Turnips went up the hill; turnip greens stayed down. Whites slaughtered pigs for the ham, loin, bacon and spare ribs; Negroes made do with the pigs' feet ("trotters"), knuckles, tails, ears, snouts, neck, backbones, hocks, stomach (hog maw) and other innards. Today, as 200 years ago, the true "stone soul" dish is chitterlings, pronounced "chitlins." These are the small intestines...
...biggest and most theatrical of all the Leaf works is Street Dreams: The Ascension of the Pig Lady, a grouping of nine characters set in a shallow stage framed by a proscenium arch. Cast as a waitress with porcine pink cheeks and a snoutlike nose, the pig lady is about to be plucked up to heaven by a man and woman sprawling across the top of the arch. Explains Miss Leaf: "If there was going to be another Messiah, it would appear in someone who would never expect it, like a waitress, and she would turn into a pig...
...F.D.R.'s Agriculture Secretary Henry Wallace, speaking of critics who thought that pigs should not be killed until full-grown, remarked: "They contended that every little pig has the right to attain before slaughter the full piggishness of his pigness...
...finished it just outside of Nuevo Laredo. Even from the first deliberately subdued chapters, I found the novel completely engrossing. By the mid-point I was entirely under Lowry's spell. The distractions of each station-stop became intertwined with the awesome experience of discovering Malcolm Lowry. A small pig urinated on my duffle bag, right there in the car. Lowry's Consul awoke from a drunken stupor, trying to focus on the scorpion in front of him, stringing itself to death...