Word: rodding
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...country people swear by. He is a dowser. As people all over the back hills of Vermont will tell you, dowsers can find water in the ground when almost no one else can-literally at the drop of a forked branch or the twist of a metal rod. No one knows how dowsing works, if indeed it does work. Yet as MacLean displays his baffling powers even a visiting skeptic and would-be apostle of science is impressed...
...professional fishermen are tightlipped men who grew up in the nearby fishing villages and are now in their sixties. One exception to this rule is a fellow named Norman who Zewinski befriended a few years ago. "Norman's a little borneo," Zewinski says. "He has the hot rod of the boat fleet, a boat called Red Sun. One night we went into a bar with him and he ordered fifty beers...
...runner as a special subspecies of human, a person gifted not only with better lungs and heart but with superior spirituality. Alas, superiority carries penalties. Sheehan feels the runner is specially susceptible to the meanness of an envious society. "Why," he asks, "is the runner a lightning rod for the anger and aggression and violence of others?" And Sheehan answers himself: "The runner puts himself above the law, above society. And men in gangs and crowds and mobs know this and react accordingly." Sheehan intones: "The runner knows of man's inhumanity to man firsthand...
...settled down for a snack of ham sandwiches. Suddenly the No. 2 starboard rod bent crazily in its stanchion, and the whine of racing line pierced the stillness. Strike! "He's here! He's with us!" Peacock screamed. Donn Mann, 48, an experienced sport fisherman, ran to the fighting chair, strapping his canvas harness to the fiber-glass rod. Some swordfish like to tease the bait. Not this one. He had hit with the wallop of a freight train. Mann released the ratchet on the reel to let the fish run. Then, without warning, the line slackened...
Darkness passes the romantic delirium of Born to Run, cuts deeper, lingers longer. The proud prisoners of shore towns, the rod riders and front-porch madonnas, turn up again, but no longer bursting with the same heady spirit. Here the "shutdown strangers and hot rod angels" suffer a sudden, splintering sense of their own settled fates. They crash right up against that darkness in the album's title. There are a lot of victims, like the girl in Racing in the Street, one of Springsteen's best songs, who "stares off alone into the night/ With the eyes...