Word: poole
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...small, balding and very nervous man has been handed the microphone--his voice is a mix of officious timidity. He's losing his audience. Content to find their own information, the crowd drifts away. The reporters gather around the monseigneur and the bureaucrat who are holding the seats for Pool Bus one. There is a friendly reminder that all pool reporters must share their information with each other. There are mild guffaws...
...athlete," he has proved to be a very conscientious exerciser and one of the most versatile sportsmen ever to serve as Chief Executive. He enjoys activities ranging from bowling and swimming (he can execute an impressive one-and-a-half flip off the diving board at the Camp David pool) to fly-fishing and quail hunting. During his first 20 months in the White House, Carter tended to get most of his exercise through tennis, playing at least five times a week and teaching Rosalynn to play. He took up jogging a year ago, when he held the Middle East...
...help Pavarotti learn his new role in La Gioconda. Beyond the big French doors the sea glistens invitingly, and the opera houses of the world seem far away. Yes, work must be done; but first, perhaps, a spin in the cabin cruiser? A workman arrives to fix the pool; he must be invited in for a glass of wine. The three Pavarotti daughters wander through, or his wife Adua settles in a corner; an interlude of familial chatting and joking is irresistible...
Pavarotti's method of appeasing Di Nunzio's sense of duty is to whistle a phrase, to show that he is at least thinking about music. Even while cavorting in the pool, Pavarotti whistles. Finally they get to the keyboard for some detailed drilling on the score. But soon a pungent aroma drifts in from the kitchen where Anna, the cook, is at work. "The day is a crescendo reaching its climax at lunch," says Di Nunzio. "Lunch is very important. Luciano will be singing a phrase, and abruptly he gets up, still singing, and walks away. Luciano...
...woman sitting next to me by a pool at a Santiago hotel one day was an American --a Marxist-Leninist, she called herself. I asked her to watch my belongings while I went swimming. "Cubans don't steal," she said angrily, disgusted by my request...