Word: shops
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Survival is no longer the issue. The old Plains is already dead. Carter T shirts ($4.50), Amy Carter birdhouses ($8), Jimmy Carter "Happy Mouth" bottle openers ($4), Plains coloring books ($1) and the "Georgia Peanut Presidential Handbag" ($15) are now the chief stock of almost every shop in town. Outsiders so jam the small stores that Plains residents have taken to driving ten miles to Americus to do the simplest food shopping. Although the state has installed Plains' first traffic light, massive traffic tie-ups occur regularly. Five tour outfits, one of them partially owned by Billy Carter...
...been scheduled to land at Tenerife at all. Both had been headed for El Gando Airport in Las Palmas on Grand Canary Island some 50 miles away. In a plot twist that even Hollywood would have thought farfetched, a bomb had exploded in a vase in a flower shop at El Gando shortly before the planes were due to land there. Both were diverted to Tenerife-and had been cleared to resume their journeys when the fatal encounter occurred...
...some place like Hamburger Hamlet, which is near by. "Lily's idea of a night on the town is to go to Hamburger Hamlet, have dinner and then go back home and work," says Richard, a Lily look-alike who makes furniture with friends in a handicraft shop. "You can go crazy at her house. The phone is ringing all the time, with writers or producers talking deals. Lily literally works around the clock. How she juggles everything, I couldn't tell you. It's a madhouse half the time...
...much of the book. Pileggi is content to let the subject describe these activities. Since he grew up behind the family shirt shop right across from the old Lindy's on Broadway, the surprisingly likable Blye is full of pungent city speech. Though he works fifteen hours a day for his $50,000 income, he loves his work as few men do. Consequently, Blye, Private Eye is that most mesmerizing of pastimes: inspired shoptalk...
Considering the kind of crude, exuberant fun that might have been had from such a subject, Cookies, when it isn't forced, is curiously listless. Jean-Pierre Marielle plays the painter well. A few scenes come briefly to life: the manageress of an umbrella shop coyly allowing herself to be seduced; the repressed sister of a Bible salesman peeping at the visiting painter as he undresses for the night; a prostitute, before taking on a customer, matter-of-factly washing his genitals in the sink along with the dishes. But Joel Seria is the kind of literal-minded director...