Word: smacks
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Taylor's new gold trunks and shoes, smack with tassels, gave contrast to the faded green trunks of Luke Lecce, the opponent. A part-time pro for four years, he is more properly a sales rep for 7-Up in Pittsburgh, a graduate of Duquesne, age 23. Taylor is just 18 but approves of higher education and has been accepted at Philadelphia's Temple University. "I'm going to start with three courses, if I can handle it. Business administration," he said, a useful major. The four golden stars, plus one other celebrity practically as good...
...land and the climate, and this is river bottom. This land will be worth something some day." He was right, of course, and to a degree that might have surprised him. Sometime in the mid-1960s, the Fifty-Niners learned that their homesteads lay smack in the middle of the proposed right-of-way of a new federal highway between Anchorage and Fairbanks. The Government subsequently bought their land cheap ($100 an acre for cleared land, $75 for uncleared) but in so doing it changed their lives. By the time the road reached their area in 1967, Shorty Bradley...
...always been easy to make the case for Robert Frost as one of America's greatest poets. His younger colleague Randall Jarrell tried in the 1950s and ran smack up against the self-created public figure, the "Only Genuine Robert Frost in Captivity": a singer of homely New England scenes, "full of complacent wisdom and cast-iron whimsy." Then, shortly after Frost's death in 1963 at age 88, his friend Lawrance Thompson began publishing a three-volume biography; inadvertently or not, it replaced the cracker-barrel sage with a monster. Thompson piled up a chronicle of "jealousies...
...nuclear question. Coles talks of his discussions with poor Pueblo children in New Mexico, who evince more skepticism for the "Anglo World" than interest in nuclear weapons. He talks of Black children he knows in Roxbury, who mention not nightmares of nuclear blasts, but of "dope and coke and smack and needles and syringes and booze, bottles and bottles of booze, and a future of no work, no work...
...adore it in Canada. Here we are hunkered down mindlessly in the snow, smack in the middle of the shortest possible overland missile, or, if you like, infantry route between those legendary, loving pals the U.S. and the Soviet Union. The 20th century, promised to us by Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier in 1904, is almost over, and Canada, so far as pennant-contending nations go, is still fumbling through spring training. Unemployment is running at 11%. Our dollar is teetering at 760 (U.S.). But what had surfaced as one of the most contentious election issues in the first month...