Word: pointings
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...their villa in Glifadha, outside Athens; then they moved on to the Neraida Club for Jackie's introduction to Athenian night life. The dancing and bouzouki music went on until 7 a.m., with Jackie clapping spiritedly to the rhythm and raising toasts to the players. At one point, eavesdroppers heard her tell Ari: "I want to know every word of those beautiful songs. They're simply marvelous." And her birthday present...
Benign Bullfrog. On the sixth day of the symposium, the participants began drafting a report of their doings, which became the declaration to be read Friday evening. Delos is truly a holy place. It is the psychological center of the Aegean, the union point of Greek clarity and Greek mysticism. In the evening light, the sky takes on blues and oranges and greens, the sea becomes deeper, the moon blazes in the sky. But neither the place nor the rhetOTIC now seemed equal to the distant crises that these people had tried to discuss all week. The wind was rising...
...class. But no permanent domestic accord can be reached if the white lower middle class remains per suaded that it is being called upon for more than its fair share of those sacrifices. The Kerner commission cited "white racism" as the principal cause of racial violence. Up to a point, the charge is just, and the white lower middle class carries its share of bigotry - a moral sin against blacks that will have to be paid for sooner or later as surely as the economic and social sins. But as the nation recognizes the le gitimate demands of the black...
Even such an anti-Establishmentarian as Steve McQueen is a Wayne buff. "Sometimes kids ask me what a pro is," he says. "I just point to the Duke...
Krassner has a point. John Wayne has become one of the pop-artifacts of contemporary life. He carries with him the unmistakable aura of camp and comic strip, as if his conversation came in balloons. As if when he slugged the opposition there would issue forth a thunderous THWACK! and SOCKO! In person, the seamed, leathery face seems an extension of his saddle. A handshake lets the visitor know how a baseball feels when it is swallowed by Frank Howard's glove. True, the unwigged forehead goes clear back to his crown, but the size-18 neck defies collars...