Word: sighting
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...words were spoken by Hugh Joseph Addonizio in 1961 when he returned from 14 years as a Democratic Congressman and was sworn in as mayor of Newark, N.J. His ambitions for Newark were as commendable as they were formidable. Lying across the Hudson River in sight of Manhattan's towers, Newark is a grimy, sprawling industrial ghetto, heir in full measure to nearly every urban malady of modern America. Its rich are few, its poor numerous, its population of 405,000 nearly equally and often acrimoniously divided between black and white. The miasma of the oil refineries...
Those first few flights appealed to my sense of wonder. The sight of shrinking cities, the whiteness of clouds against the windows, the thrust of the engines on take-off all took hold of my imagination. But when I looked around to see what was really there, I had to admit that airplanes were dull: businessmen stewardesses, students, all sealed in a cylinder, impatient to be rid of one another. The flights were so fast there wasn't the time to meet a girl and write down her telephone number between cities...
...marvels illustrated a deep and true vision of life. He refused to people Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler (1922) with the cardboard Bonds and Flints of today's adventure fantasies. Every character is a complex personality. In one gambling house de Witt, hunting "the Great Unknown," is distracted by the sight of an extraordinary woman, the Countess Tolst. He leaves the card table to walk to the couch on which she reposes. In two minutes Lang gives us her soul. We see no shallow temptress, no abstract sentimental heroine. The countess is sophisticated and very intelligent; she has come to watch...
Later this season, when Dorothy and her friends again gather in Oz on their annual TV rerun, only the singing of Over the Rainbow will be more fondly familiar to Americans than the sight of the Cowardly Lion in his boxer's stance, hopefully spluttering "Put 'em up. Put 'em uuuup." Bert Lahr played the lion, of course, and like all his performances, it bore the mark of a unique talent. Most comedians rely principally on their tongues, and Lahr's scratchy voice, wobbly warble and gnong, gnong, gnong earned their share of laughs...
...against my will. I still am. Because the machine was right, upsettingly accurate, again and again. Its personality profile ("Your tendency to over intellectualize," the machine informed me, for example, "may make you lose sight of concrete goals,") came unpleasantly close. Its forecast, though not immediately verifiable, seemed plausible. I could rationalize it all away, but I don't. Astrology used to be a medieval relic, a creation of the imagination comparable to the visions of Blake, Shelley, and Yeats. In its own, non-scientific, metaphorical way, it was beautiful and intriguing. Today, packaged and chrome-plated, gushed'over...