Word: schmaltz
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...fleet of taxicabs. One night last week on Berlin's Broadway-the garish and blazing Kurfursten-Damm-cruising crooks met honest, conventioning Hamburgers, quarreled, fought with guns and knives. It appeared that the shooting and knifing had begun-as such things will-with a wench, buxom Gretchen Schmaltz. Originally Fraulein Schmaltz appeared to have favored and sipped beer with a tuxedoed Ever Loyal. When he excused himself for a moment, Gretchen responded to the ogle of a dashing old Hamburger Journeyman, clapped his broad black hat upon her head, called for more beer and presently begged...
...Lowell Schmaltz had not seen Calvin Coolidge since leaving Amherst when he ''dropped in" at the White House with his wife, Mamie, and his daughter, Delmerine...
...Lowell Schmaltz was supposed to have known Calvin Coolidge only during the half-year that he (Mr. Schmaltz) was a freshman classmate of Mr. Coolidge's at Amherst. Edward F. Horrigan knew Calvin Coolidge when he (Mr. Coolidge) was Governor of Massachusetts. Mr. Horrigan was one of Governor Coolidge's aides...
...skimmed through the Boston despatch containing these words and decided that any man who uttered them must be a living image of Author Sinclair Lewis' fictional creature, The Man Who Knew Coolidge (TIME, April 23), were both unfair and inattentive. The Lewis creature's name was Lowell Schmaltz. The real Boston man to whom the above remarks were credited was Edward F. Horrigan, a Massachusetts fire investigator...
Significance. Thus in a series of excessively droning monologues Lowell Schmaltz gives himself away to inconceivably long-suffering audiences as a self-satisfied ass thriving in a smug over-convenient America, 1928 model. Lively audiences yawn, groan, escape him, but posterity, trapped by the author's undeniable virtuosity in the spoken word, will listen and believe that the mechanistic ass was typical of the age. And posterity may not detect this flaw: "typical" American butter-and-eggers idolized in Lindbergh all the heroism which their own ready-to-wear existence lacked, and would always prefer a Lindbergh...