Word: rakishness
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...Cougar, by Mercury, is a middle-priced cross between the economical Mustang and the expensive Thunderbird. It will have rakish headlights that disappear into the grille, rounded Thunderbird sides, taillights that stretch across the entire back of the car. Price: about...
Died. Walter Hansgen, 46, veteran U.S. driver (45 major races won) who made his reputation in Jaguars for Sportsman Briggs Cunningham before switching, in 1963, mostly to Ford, whose rakish Mark II he drove to second place in last month's twelve-hour Sebring endurance race; of massive brain damage five days after his Mark II aquaplaned across the wet track at 120 m.p.h., flipped end over end and crashed into a sand bank during a practice run for the 24 hours of Le Mans this June; in Orléans, France...
...Robinson, Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney come on like double-barreled punks in their double-breasted suits. Even in as recent a film as The Yellow Rolls-Royce, one of the breakup scenes was the appearance of George C. Scott as a 1930s hood, all decked out in a rakish, broad-brimmed white Panama and a Raft-shouldered, double-breasted suit. But laugh softly and take a long second look. For the newest male mode is nothing less than a reissue of Hollywood's dependable old Double...
Churning Circles. The puckered caliche hills and sun-baked pastures of L.B.J. country proved to be a good presidential tonic. The day after he arrived, the President clapped on a rakish red tarn o' shanter (a gift from Daughter Lynda) and invited reporters to the nearby shores of Lake Lyndon B. Johnson. There he climbed into his 310-h.p. speedboat and drove it in wide, churning circles, occasionally revving the engine so high that the boat all but sat on its stern. Next day he entertained 150 members of the Texas Explorers Club, got into his white Lincoln convertible...
...time from 1928 to 1784, when he falls hopelessly in love with an impoverished girl of the English nobility. Clear Day puts a kooky American girl named Daisy Gamble (Barbara Harris) into a hypnotic trance and transports her back to 1794, when she was the bride of the rakish Edward Moncrief, and was destined to drown in the shipwreck of the Trelawny. With this paleo-romantic glue, Lerner tries to stick together a libretto incongruously torn between the pseudo science of extrasensory perception and the pseudo metaphysics of reincarnation...