Word: shouldering
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...this election year. Last week, between campaign forays, he took time out to discuss this dual role, with its problems and rewards, with TIME Correspondents Hugh Sidey and John Stacks. Seated in his luxurious suite in the Executive Office Building, a white marble bust of Socrates staring over his shoulder, the Vice President was tanned from a weekend of tennis in Palm Springs. But he looked and sounded a little weary, and as he spoke, he showed a curious mixture of nearly self-righteous assurance about the accuracy of his charges and an almost sad sense of his own fallibility...
...time or another, nearly every college sophomore has clapped his roommate on the shoulder and said: "C'mon, Oedipus, she's old enough to be your mother." Or greeted a sleepy-eyed coed at a 9 a.m. classics lecture with a cheery "Morning doesn't become you, Electra"." Jejune jests, to be sure, but they reflect post-Freudian man's easy familiarity with once intricate Sophoclean themes. If familiarity does not always breed contempt, it often produces apathy...
Pennoyer stood at the exit to the Lowell courtyard with one policeman, while two others searched the House. As the man approached the exit with a $300 camera slung over his shoulder, Pennoyer pointed him out, and the police stopped him for questioning...
...Honky Tonk is a drug-culture parody of older comic book forms and advertising techniques. Sandwiched between the two principal stories, a full-page ad, layed-out with True Grit's promos, boasts. "Get both spending money and a real high!" The serious kid with shoulder satchels full of newspapers has been replaced by a freak holding a lid. The caption reads, "Percy Sibbin makes $500 a week and is always stoned!" Unfortunately, much of the remainder of the comic is more self-indulgent mockery than readable satire. In the lead story, "An Okie from Waskogie," Sodmind Redneck is drinking...
...live in Egypt in the 1950s really to understand Gamal Abdel Nasser. He used to read our copy every night before he went to sleep. Even if years went by without direct contact, we always had the feeling that he was reading over our shoulder, chewing rugs because of some of our words. He could be outraged that we didn't give his revolution the support he thought it deserved, but still he would respect us for our honesty. The greatest compliment he could give any newsman came to me in 1962 when he told a visitor, "Wilton Wynn...