Word: saunter
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...normal humans, if any, are in fact fundamentally unfit. Rather, most of us saunter between states of competency and the incorrect degree of qualification. But most importantly, we are all qualified to some degree (even if it be the bare minimum) and have the ability and potential to further that qualification...
Take breathing fresh air, for example. Back in the idle days of Crimson collegiate life, students used to take mid-evening study breaks and saunter around the streets of Cambridge in search of a slice of pizza from Tommy's or one of Mr. and Mrs. Bartley's great, juicy burgers...
...harpsichordist is bent over his instrument like a hermit at his orisons, wielding the tiny crucifix of a tuning key. A Cupid darts across the unclothed scene, her bow unstrung and one wing dangling. Someone jostles the stringed spear of a chitarrone, and two primped and padded militaries saunter on stage left. This is the dress rehearsal of Cavalli's Giasone, a baroque opera put on by the Harvard Early Music Society...
...about liberation from bondage (I confused it for a Civil War hymn at first)--it entirely changes the show's tone. Seconds later, of course, the bouncing Irish return to claim their stage. But the most egregious offense comes a few acts later. A group of African-American dancers saunter onto stage wearing black (get it! get it!) and start to boogie--and I mean exaggerated, highly offensive, stereotypical "boogie-ing"--to the generic beats of a sunglasses-wearing saxophone player. A second later, a group of beautiful blond Irish dancers all wearing white (aha!) enter stage left to start...
...edifices, waiters balancing silver trays of champagne and espresso cups bustle among outdoor tables set under tasseled awnings, tipped at just the right angle. One after the other appear countless fashionable boutiques selling Givenchy, Christian Dior or one of France's many other high-profile designers, perfumeries into which saunter ladies who would be at home in the pages of Vogue magazine and hair salons whose attendants dawdle at the door with an insouciance that Marlon Brando would envy. Even the chestnut trees on the elegant Champs-Elysees hang their branches with the same grace and premeditated beauty that...