Word: shading
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...farm economics. Tenant farmers these days are no longer the classic Southern sharecroppers, who have almost disappeared, but are often expanding agriculturists like Benedict who own land too. As it grew, Pat's farm absorbed four others; in three cases, he razed and burned the houses, uprooted graceful shade trees and returned all the land to crops. Says he: "Those farms had lived out their usefulness, and I guess I've brought them back...
...psychotic tendencies of that great unruly beast, the American Imperium. Our best writers have tried--and mostly failed--Pynchon, with the wondrous Gravity's Rainbow, a critical mass of incendiary pages, and McGuane, with his taut vision of love and death in the Florida Keys, 92 in the Shade. No wonder there is so much yearning for that time of the superego run rampant, the 1960s. Where is Norman Mailer '43, who many felt understood that time better than any American writer? Feiffer strikes a universal key: Don't you wish we still had Nixon to hate? Meanwhile...
Most dowsers seem to like nothing better than to regale skeptics with their accomplishments. Clarence Hollett of Willow Shade, Ky., styles himself as "the Mr. Doodlebug." In the dowser lexicon, doodlebugs are a special breed - diviners for oil. Hollett, a rotund, barrel-chested man, says he has found wells that produce 1 ,000 bbl. a day and, if only he hadn't been swindled by so-called friends, he might be a millionaire. He also dabbles in healing and dowses for gold. "Don't believe me?" he asks, and promptly borrows a gold ring from a cynical listener...
When I awoke at 1:30, I again decided to ignore warnings not to hike in the midday sun, and started up the South Kaibab Trail. Twenty yards up the trail was a big sign saying "WARNING--THIS TRAIL NOT RECOMMENDED FOR HIKING OUT. THERE IS NO SHADE, ONLY ONE EMERGENCY TELEPHONE, AND IT IS VERY STEEP. TAKE AT LEAST FOUR QUARTS OF WATER, ALLOW SIX TO EIGHT HOURS FOR HIKE! MULE RESCUES ARE COSTLY AND NOT ALWAYS AVAILABLE." Scratched under that was the legend "Jim Duggin did it on only two quarts, 4/13/77." I had no water...
...middle of a yawn as a big black Al Capone limo rolled up. Out jumped--no, not hoodlums bearing Tommy guns--but masked men and women, towels up around their faces to conceal them from the members of the press and the old black men lounging in the shade of a melt-your-polyester-shirt-by-seven August morning. Yes, this was it, this was the Big Time Under the Big Top, Perspire Under the Whelm as it were; this was It, the Big Meltdown. Perhaps it should be explained, start at the beginning, linear like, a very good place...