Word: ritzes
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Papa César founded the Paris hotel whose name became a synonym for class. Mama Mimi, after her husband's death, boarded Nazis during the Occupation, keeping the Allies posted on their travels. Last week Charles Ritz, 72, now Chairman of Paris' Ritz, flew to Manhattan to check into the strategies of Europe's latter-day invaders. He sampled a $90-a-day suite at the New York Hilton, ran his finger over the moldings, ordered snacks in from room service (usually in the wee hours), and emerged from his experiment reassured. "The Hilton is good...
Died. Walter Gibson, 63, Wall Street broker widely credited as the sole inventor of the subspecial martini that bears his surname; of a heart attack; in Manhattan. As a habitue of the Ritz in Paris, Gibson gratified two hitherto mutually exclusive tastes, for dry gin and pickled pearl onions, by schooling the bartender to substitute a single Allium cepa for the conventional olive in his favorite cocktail. His claim was coldly, drily disputed, however, by those who attributed the gin-onion union to Artist Charles Dana Gibson or the late Will Gibson, Gene Tunney's primetime manager...
Mandatory Days. At his lakeside ranch house, Humphrey changed into sports clothes, whiled away the after noon talking to Minnesota friends by phone. Later, he and Muriel returned to Minneapolis, went to a Sheraton-Ritz Hotel suite to listen to returns. There the South Dakota druggist's son who had always wanted to be President, or at the very least Vice President, told a crowd of well-wishers: "I would be less than honest if I didn't say I am very happy and quite excited...
...with L.B.J. A Bavarian brass band clad in lederhosen oompahed California, Here I Come while lusty stein clankers wearing campaign hats and Johnson buttons roared out "Prosit!" But in Paris they were shouting for "Goldwater in '64" as Republicans gathered in a mirrored conference room at the Ritz and collected $1,000 in campaign funds at the first passage...
...hitchhikes. He will stay in hostels or third-class hotels but prefers to bed down in a sleeping bag, never cares what his food is cooked in so long as it is native to the country he is in. The oldtime tourist still holes up at the Ritz and orders three-star meals, but he is vastly outranked by the kids who storm the Continent in increasing numbers every year and leave the U.S. image agreeably altered...