Word: smokes
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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When a northeast wind finally blew down the gulch, Boyer pressed the button. A cloud of grey smoke rose up with a ball of fire at its heart; out of it spouted flashes of light like giant Fourth of July sparklers. Observers heard a loud bang and felt a modest shock wave. As the cloud began to dissipate, three Air Force bombers swooped into it, collecting air samples. Then men wearing respirators and full safety suits stepped cautiously within 200 yds. of ground zero. Kiwi had disappeared. Nothing was left on the seared site but the railroad car with...
...experimenter didn't tell his subjects how to smoke pot. Just puffing on it as on an ordinary cigarette wouldn't get you very high. It is necessary to inhale deeply and hold the smoke in your lungs. Even so, it would take about four cigarettes thus consumed before a novice would recognize the effects. Lisa Bieberman...
...fire undamaged, but about two-thirds of the store's $12 million stock of merchandise was either destroyed or made unsalable by N.M. standards. A $10,000 wooden figurine of Kuan Yin, a Chinese goddess of mercy, was decapitated and a $35,000 sable coat so saturated with smoke that Marcus deemed it uncleanable. "It would be like trying to take the smoke smell out of smoked herring," he said. Much of the less-damaged merchandise will be sold to other retailers, who last week deluged Neiman-Marcus with offers. Marcus, who sniffs at the idea of a Neiman...
Just when he should have been able to sit back and listen to the jingling cash registers, Stanley Marcus, president of Dallas' famed Neiman-Marcus, last week paced a smoke-blackened, rubble-filled office. In his hand he carried a walkie-talkie to keep in touch with work crews cleaning up the results of a $10 million fire that swept the seven-story department store just five days before Christmas. Marcus, who manned the fire lines with firemen while his wife served them coffee, promised "to come out of these ashes like a phoenix." Fully insured against both fire...
...Ball is a misaddressed musical mailbag. Buddy Hackett, a droll fellow of manic and mournful mien, should be readdressed to oldtime burlesque, where his earthy urbanisms could blue the air like cigar smoke. The frenetically agitated dances should be restored to the speeded-up silent film. The nondescript music should be sent back to recompose itself. The book has never left its natural state-pulp...