Word: shirttails
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Chabon's prose is so awesome, it's a crime not to quote it. "Look at Landsman," he writes, "one shirttail hanging out, snow-dusted porkpie knocked to the left, coat hooked to a thumb over his shoulder. Hanging on to a sky-blue cafeteria ticket as if it's the strap keeping him on his feet." There's hardly a mot here that's not juste. Likewise, a cartoon dog evokes "the obscure unease that Pluto has always inspired, a dog owned by a mouse, daily confronted with the mutational horror of Goofy...
...Ford and the Ford of the “Indiana Jones” and “Star Wars” franchises. Even as he outruns villains in “Firewall,” there are flashes of a new Ford—a flabby belly when a shirttail comes loose and grey hairs that imply a little more Centrum Silver than silver fox. Nonetheless, the slow-speaking actor assures The Crimson that he lives life with no regrets. He respects the actors who find success playing roles he declined. “If I have an opportunity...
...Bush, his lanky frame impeccably clad in an $800 suit, trailed by what an admirer calls "this fat little pirate," 5 ft. 9 in., 190 lbs., his wavy hair tousled, sweating, with tie loosened, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, pants sagging beneath his paunch and shirttail sneaking out in the back...
...odds, this transition once again will be a shirttail operation, underfunded, ill defined, rushed and harried by spoilsmen and political operatives. Campaigns have become an industry of moneygrubbers and pitchmen, only a few of whom should be allowed into power. The nation and Ronald Reagan might have been better off had 1980 Campaign Director Bill Casey, a renowned Wall Street buccaneer, been left there rather than given the CIA as spoils. Jimmy Carter's sad history might have been different had he kept his campaign strategist Hamilton Jordan out of the White House loop. And John Mitchell, Richard Nixon...
Last week a new generation of Kennedys trudged into that complexity. The long lens caught their photogenic Irish-American faces, eyes all downcast at the same angle of mourning, some shirtsleeves rolled up, a shirttail out the way that Bobby's sometimes was. The cousins walked up Hickory Hill bearing one of their own, David Anthony Kennedy, Robert and Ethel's fourth child, their third son. Except for infant deaths years ago, David, at 28, was the first of the new generation...