Word: spitted
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Parts of Seoul, inevitably, feel like suburbs of America. The streets of Itaewon, not far from the Yongsan garrison, are decorated in the U.S. Army- surplus style common to base cities around the world: country-and-western bars called Bonanza and Tennessee, the Las Vegas disco, a spit-and-polish row of Pizza Hut, Pizza Inn and Shakey's. And where there are servicemen, of course, there are service-industry women: in certain hands, Seoul's rowdiness can turn to raunchiness. The body trade flourishes in the G.I. bars of Itaewon, and the city's ubiquitous barbershops have little...
...placing the homeless on a barge in Los Angeles Harbor. In El Paso last month, four billboards of unknown sponsorship sprang up: PLEASE DON'T GIVE TO BEGGARS -- THEY CAUSE TRAFFIC PROBLEMS. El Paso City Representative Ed Elsey has received complaints that some panhandlers scratch cars with rocks or spit on the windshields if drivers refuse to give. "They are becoming more aggressive," says Elsey. "It is time for the city to get involved...
Baseball has now paid its last respects to the past that has made it so great. Day games at Wrigley have now joined the Ghosts of Baseball Past. Ghosts that call each other "Babe" and "Dizzy," carry bats the size of Redwood trees, smother balls in Vaseline, spit and lard, pitch both games of a doubleheader (what's that?) and take the subway for a World Series game against cross-town rivals...
...irritated and stormed that he would not do the Kennedy family's bidding. He declared that the vice presidency was a worthless job compared with being Senate leader, related the sad tenure of "Cactus Jack" Garner, who had called the office nothing more than a "pitcher of warm spit," and said Speaker Sam Rayburn had told him to stay far away from it. If he could not be President, he would stay in the Senate, Johnson had told me with such rage and finality -- his nose an inch from mine -- that I chalked...
...does his predawn roadwork by himself on the boardwalk, grateful for the solitude. "I don't have any friends. I get paranoid around a lot of people. I can't relax." Besides Rooney and Cutman Matt Baranski, only Steve Lott is admitted to the inner sanctum. "I'm the spit-bucket man," Lott says with shining eyes. "I would give my life for that." He was a handball buddy of Jimmy Jacobs', an honored player who died at 58 last March, reportedly of leukemia. Jacobs and his business partner Cayton, keepers of the most extensive film archives in boxing, were...