Word: rubs
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...people." Thus, in one scene of the revue a housewife chortles: "Yesterday I noticed that my maid doesn't dust the table properly. So I called in the army. Now the army keeps things in order at home. It's a real delight to see how they rub, like well-oiled machines. My husband turned out to be inefficient too, so I called in the army...The synagogues are more efficient now. The Dead Sea is more efficient. The Wailing Wall is more efficient. Even happiness is more efficient. But what pleases me most is that the army...
...Gentlemen of Verona and the plays Butley and That Championship Season -were taking in enough at the box office to make a profit for the shows and for themselves. (Broadway theaters do not charge rent from producers, but take 25% of the box office gross.) Just to rub things in, some 23 national touring companies of past seasons' hits like Jesus Christ Superstar and No, No, Nanette are outdrawing Broadway productions for the first time in history, with grosses so far this season running about 30% ahead of Broadway...
There are some plays that a reviewer would rather feed than judge. Like stray kittens, they rub up against you in an imploring, hard-to-resist way and make friendly little noises. They are so thin that one yearns to put flesh on the bones of their plots, give them vitamin-rich lines to chew, and nourish their characters and situations...
Seeger's intellectualism may rub some connoisseur of Country music or the blues the wrong way. But it will do so only if the so-called expert tries to take Seeger on terms different from Seeger's own. For if Seeger ever fancied himself as another Guthrie (and I doubt he ever did), he has for a long time made himself perfectly clear: his mission is not to be Woody, but to inspire the love for people's songs and the rugged America which made the boy from Oklahoma tick. And Seeger has a further mission, which is political...
...retrospect, De Kooning seems to have hardly ever painted an abstract picture. The resistant surfaces of the real world are always there in the paint, whether explicitly-as in the Woman series 20 years ago-or by implication, in the fleshy rub and friction of one biomorphic shape against another. His new canvases suggest (not only by their titles) the low, flat landscapes of Long Island: high-keyed pinks and yellows and acid greens, a flicker of noon light, blue heat-haze on the potato fields, a jumble of sun-flushed legs on the sand. With a handful of minor...