Word: sams
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...disrupting. After Mr. Caploe's calumnies against SJP and after an incident in which a CRIMSON reporter tried to impersonate Arthur Waldron in order to find out where our speakers were lodging I warned the CRIMSON that I would not tolerate such abuse. So far only one reporter. Mr. Sam Goldhaber and until he changed his mind, Mr. Magalif, has given us anything resembling fair reporting. I hereby announce that I will not give out any news stories to Mr. Caploe, Miss Day. Mr. Thomas, or Mr. Magalif. It is ironic that one of the students SJP is prosecuting...
...most improbable presidential aspirant yet to surface, freewheeling Los Angeles Mayor Sam Yorty, did a bit of preliminary campaigning last week in New Hampshire at the behest of arch-conservative Newspaper Publisher William Loeb. At Manchester's Memorial High School, a senior named Kathy Sullivan disconcerted Yorty with a devastating question: "Los Angeles has serious problems with poverty, pollution, crime and racism. You have been there a long time. How do we know that the U.S. won't become one big Los Angeles if you are elected...
Just One More. Two days later, when I pulled Anglin' Sam out of bed at 5 a.m., he remarked that I had a funny glazed look. "Bass on the brain," he called it. The odd smell in the air-a combination of pork rind, outboard motor oil, anise and fish scales-he called "essence of largemouth." That afternoon, while twitching purple-plastic worms off the bottom, I had a strike that seemed to turn the boat around. When I set the hook, it felt like there was an anvil on the other end. Diving and circling the boat...
Next morning, while Anglin' Sam packed his gear for the jet trip back to civilization, I strolled down to the dock to take a few practice casts. On the first toss a bass picked off my Rapala CD-115 in midair. The largemouth weighed just under 5 Ibs., my biggest take of the weekend. I kept casting, oblivious to pleadings that we had to go. "Just one more cast," I said. "Just one more...
...half the country would like to be dancing cheek to cheek with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in a great ballroom of the '30s. The other half yearns to join Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman on a back-lot Casablanca of the '40s to whisper: "Play it, Sam. Play As Time Goes By." We seem to be not so much entering the new decade as backing away from it full steam astern...