Word: sharping
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...President Nixon became the most talked about, best-known and most-effective (if anyone can be effective) Westerner to invade the U.S.S.R. in years. Officially, he was in Moscow to open the fabulous U.S. National Exhibition in Moscow's Sokolniki Park. But Nixon did much more: he gave sharp point to the glittering achievement of the fair because-on Communism's home grounds-he managed in a unique way to personify a national character proud of peaceful accomplishment, sure of its way of life, confident of its power under threat...
From Labor Statistics Commissioner Ewan Clague came the assurance that the sharp swing upward in food prices only represented a seasonal phenomenon, but there was no suggestion of relief anywhere else. It was just like being pecked to death by gnats, observed a Los Angeles homeowner. "No single bite hurts too much, but you itch all over all the time...
...reminded the guajiros that they were in Havana to do a political job. Railing against the "infamous" foreign press and "foreign plutocrats," he defended his one-man rule as "Athenian democracy" and warned that "the guajiros are here with their machetes to defend the revolution, and their machetes are sharp." Next day Castro's labor leaders closed down the city for an hour with a general strike, "demanding" that he return to office...
...epitome of a certain breed of winning football coach, a giant tending to paunch since his playing days, a man with a muscular glad-hand and sharp tongue, a celebrity of sorts who had had so much acclaim that he floated on an air of supreme self-confidence, certain that things would be fine-so long as he won. Once, when the student paper at his alma mater, North Carolina, took him to task for "playing to win and win alone," Big Jim Tatum replied: "Winning isn't the most important thing-it's the only thing...
This year's tour followed the old tradition: to the clatter of cowbells, bagpipes and lusty Breton hymns, the pilgrims marched the ten penitential miles. Bearing crosses and banners, whole families walked together, singing and praying. The young helped the old across improvised bridges and through the sharp stubble of newly sickled wheat. At twelve resting places along the way, prayers were recited in makeshift chapels. That evening Locronan doors stayed open, and big rustic tables were laden with crêpes, bread, butter and cider. Last week the rituals ended with midnight Mass and a pageant re-enacting...