Word: rodding
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When English Rock Superstar Rod Stewart travels in his executive jet, he takes along a retinue of 43 musicians, managers and publicists who indulge his every whim. When he arrives, he is met by a cozily appointed limousine and, invariably, an assortment of cozily appointed groupies. His singles like Maggie May and albums like Sing It Again, Rod (his latest, with 700,000 sales in two months) are regular chartbusters. He derives enough additional money from concerts (a recent month-long tour of the U.S. grossed $500,000) to qualify easily for millionaire status. When he takes time...
...more importance than that the right of impeachment should be continued. Shall any man be above justice? Above all, shall that man be above it who can commit the most extensive injustice?" South Carolina's Charles Pinckney countered that impeachment would enable the legislature to hold "a rod over the Executive and by that means effectually destroy his independence...
...small (5 ft. 4 in.), balding troll of a man with a porcupine persona, Jenkins, 42, dominates a sport usually associated with big bruisers in black leather. Last year he won ten of the eleven major national drag races in the pro-stock class. At the American Hot Rod Association meet in St. Louis two months ago, he thundered down the quarter-mile strip in 8.97 sec., an all-time record. Ten days later in Epping, N.H., he clocked 8.93 sec. He only placed second last week at the N.H.R.A. world-championship meet in Amarillo, Texas, but Jenkins is still...
...consultant to help spread his fame-and perhaps counteract the effect of his personality. Though he can be amiable off the track, fans know him as a dour churl who snarls at well-wishers and even puts up barriers to keep spectators away from his pit. Readers of Hot Rod magazine, however, were able to see as much of Grumpy as anyone would wish. Clad in skivvies and sprawled on a bearskin rug, he posed for this month's centerfold...
...view from my Aunt Elida's window. She lived off 145th in Harlem, and if you hung far enough out the window, you could see the Polo Grounds. I had to hang out to my knees, but I knew the team anyway. Kranepool, Ron Hunt, Choo Choo Coleman, Hot Rod Kanehl, Roger Craig, A1 Jackson, Jim Hickman--this is a litany from somebody who never seemed to collect baseball cards. With Stengel in the dugout, these simple nobodies became a dangerous crowd of misfits. It was an easy charm. For these were lean years in New York: there were...