Word: sobbingly
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...beauty business may not suffer from a tight Christmas, because vanity is generally inelastic. In fact, although Santa may shoulder lighter packs this year, area hairstylists still assume they will arrive looking neat. "I hear all the sob stories of people without any money," Hair Care of Dunster Street's Nancy L. Sellon said yesterday. "But people who will do anything to save money get their hair cut because it makes them feel better," she added...
Harry You was huddled in his coxswain's position. His eyes were glazed with tears, and his lips were pursed to hold back a sob. The powerful engine room was hauntingly silent. Hap Porter blinked back tears while Charlie Alterkruse hurried off, oar in tow. Paul Templeton, in the bow, looked worn--he too was ready...
...historian, a griot, confirms the Haley family account of Kinte's capture by white 18th century slave traders, Alex's joy is overwhelming. "You old African! I found you! I found you! I found you! I found you!" shouts out James Earl Jones, his voice bursting with sobs. The TV audience may well sob along with him. Now as before, Roots occupies a special place in the history of our mass culture: it has the singular power to reunite all Americans, black and white, with their separate and collective pasts...
...film is one John Collins, Vancouver's finest, Man of the Year for his firm three years running, and probably the coldest, most calculating lead character of the year. With his stylish suits and grown-out crew cut, he is the epitome of the emotionless bureaucrat, a surly, cocky SOB whose meanness is matched only by his ruthless efficiency (pardon me, I'm raving). He'll follow you around town, visit you at work, call you on the phone. Not that he doesn't have his own standards--pay up and it's all buddy-buddy--but welch...
...crisis point comes for Collins when he must close out one final account in order to regain his Man of the Year slot. Collins isn't worried. "Everyone's got a sob story," he tells his account. "Don't tell me about your deals. I know what you are. Your wife knows what you are. Your kids know what you are . . ." But how far can he push it? Collins goes to the man's house. The TV is blaring, Merv Griffith is ranting about Jacqueline Susanne, a great artist. He wanders through the suspiciously quiet house--a prefab chalet sitting...