Word: polkas
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Pressler, of course, has absolutely no chance of becoming the next President of the U.S. Yet he at least dresses for the part. He is wearing a nicely cut black pin stripe suit and a black tie with small white polka dots. "It's a very big thing to run for the presidency," says Pressler. "It's a very big country, with all the different states. You need a whole staff just to figure out the rules in the different prima-ries." Pressler has a campaign staff...
...newfound hands, porcupining from the inside as they regained feeling, reached up to touch a nose that had been smashed against his cheekbone. Memory flashed: the carnage that had stared back at him from the mirror the night before, the purple polka-dot bruises that dappled his face and shoulders and back. Like the flanks of an Appaloosa horse, he thought to himself; then, because he had lost his gallop and barbed wire fenced-in his prairie, he thought again--a spotted fawn, tucktail and fear-frozen at the sound of a pine cone dropping. Except it was more like...
...newfound hands, porcupining from the inside as they regained feeling, reached up to touch a nose that had been smashed against his cheek-bone. Memory flashed: the carnage that had stared back at him from the mirror the night before, the purple polka-dot bruises that dappled his face and shoulders and back. Like the flanks of an Appaloosa horse, he thought to himself; then, because he had lost his gallop and barbed wire fenced-in his prairie, he thought again--a spotted fawn, tucktail and fear-frozen at the sound of a pine cone dropping. Except it was more...
...scene was Mayslack's Polka Lounge in Minneapolis. The 67 Harvard men stood before the proud but bewildered Stan Mayslack, former professional wrestler, and the overflow crowd of lunchtime patrons. "Not since the second Dempsey-Tunney fight has a rematch been so feverishly demanded," wrote a local columnist. Four years earlier, the Glee Club had entertained Mayslack and his customers with Renaissance lamentations, and they were back for a return bout. Conductor F. John Adams '66, beer in hand, led the group in Harvard fight songs, and the noontime throng loved...
...central building was ringed by bright colors. It looked like a parking lot filled with cars. When the plane dipped lower, the cars turned out to be bodies. Scores and scores of bodies ?hundreds of bodies?wearing red dresses, blue T shirts, green blouses, pink slacks, children's polka-dotted jumpers...