Word: rusts
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Romantic appeal aside, the big reason for the sudden chic of sea burial is economics. Says Charles Denning, founder of the Neptune Society: "For the past hundred years undertakers have made a rich living by selling tin boxes that rust in the ground, pink gowns and booties, and scenic plots overlooking freeways." These standard "hole-in-the-ground" funerals, he notes, cost $1,200 to $1,900. Burial at sea runs a mere $250 a throw...
...month, on one of his incessant inspection tours around the empire, he walked into a McDonald's in Canada -and exploded like a raw potato in hot grease. "There was gum on the cement patio, cigarette butts between the wheel stops for the cars," he says. "There was rust on the wrought-iron railing, and the redwood fence needed to be restained. I went in there and said to the manager: 'You get somebody to mop this goddamned floor right now. And if you don't, I'll do it myself...
...minisub caper remains his favorite. According to Lenzlinger, he rented a vacation retreat at Rust, on the Neusiedlersee's Austrian bank, and hid the sub in a boathouse. Under cover of twilight, the sub picked up, one by one, eight refugees assembled near Sopron, Hungary. "The only problem was Hungarian dog patrols," Lenzlinger recounted. "But the police dogs, all running loose, were male German shepherds. So on one trip we released a dachshund bitch in heat. The police dogs vanished and we took in the refugees. We even retrieved the poor dachshund with a supersonic whistle...
...dust jacket of this amiable manual for layabouts asks of the prospective reader, "Why should you let Rust Hills tell you how to run your life?" But anyone acquainted with Hills' previous book, How to Do Things Right: The Revelations of a Fussy Man, knows that the author, far from being interested in running the reader's life, refuses even to run his own. Instead he walks it, as if it were an elderly dog. That is his pride, and he has earned it. As he explains, he was the fiction editor of Esquire and then...
...wonder when in the world you're going to do anything, Rudolf?' said my brother's wife. 'My dear Rose,' I answered, laying down my egg spoon, 'why in the world should I do anything?'" Soon Hills began disintegrating. His Rust Hills personality split into three parts-the Fussy Man who made lists, an amiable boob named Larry Placebound, who charged about the country doing marginal journalistic assignments, and a troll called LOMLIC, which stands for Lonely Old Man Lives in Country. Not surprisingly, Hills' wife, stepchildren and dog appear to have...