Word: rush-hour
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...always, Jesse Jackson was late-three hours behind schedule this time-as his motorcade sped through down town Baltimore on a chilly, misty afternoon last week. The procession of cars, vans and buses wove in and out of rush-hour traffic, red and blue lights flashing and police sirens wailing. Clots of office workers gathered outside the trendy shops and restaurants of Harborplace to watch. The caravan zipped by them and into East Baltimore, an area of sagging row houses, many disfigured by broken or boarded-up windows...
...rush-hour traffic on Moscow's broad boulevards was moving at a crawl when the convoys of black ZIL limousines, amber lights gleaming, appeared out of the morning mist. The motorcades whipped by at 70 m.p.h., down empty center lanes marked off for official traffic. The more than 300 members of the Communist Party's Central Committee were on their way to the Kremlin for their annual winter session. All of them but one. There was no hint of the whereabouts of the Soviet Union's head of state, Yuri Andropov, 69, who had not been seen...
...they leave Los Angeles, the rush-hour drivers heading for the town of Banning (pop. 14,000) 85 miles away are indistinguishable from the great herd of Interstate 10 commuters, all driving toward the desert with the setting sun in their rear-view mirrors. But by the San Gorgonio Pass, most of the working stiffs are home, and the chartered buses and four-door sedans start bunching up. By the time they reach the 32,000-acre Morongo Indian reservation, the hundreds of small-time gamblers form a ragtag convoy. Their destination is Indian Village Bingo, a new gambling hall...
...that was before the South Street Seaport opened with a bash of festivities, celebrities and rush-hour crowds. In the shadow of the 100-year-old Brooklyn Bridge, the festival market now offers a trove of cultural attractions in a handsome historical resetting. A new Fulton Market is its centerpiece. Built of brick and granite with a hipped metal roof and wide-open entrances, the new market is just that: a bold, shirtsleeves kind of place for honest food without cellophane and a variety of eateries for all tastes and pocketbooks-some 40 establishments...
Director Edward Stone has set a frenetic pace that jams to a halt, like traffic in a rush-hour gridlock, whenever the entire eight-actor ensemble crowds onto the stage. The performances, though a bit broad for so intimate a space, are clever: Mara Beckerman is just irksome enough as the naive heroine, Alan Brasington swishily grand as her abductor, and Merle Louise, Polly Pen and especially Emcee Michael McCormick polished and persuasive as show-must-go-on troupers. The music hall genre may be dead, but Charlotte Sweet is an amiable, spirited resurrection...