Word: spun
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...most fathers, liked to recall how good he was. The story Bob liked best was dad's quarterback sneak: "Mind you, I weighed only 135 Ibs. then. . . . I took the ball on my own 20, broke into the clear. The secondary had me trapped by the sidelines. . . . I spun away from one tackier . . . then another. . . ." The story grew each year; in the most recent version, dad ran from his own two-yard line, and was tackled on the enemy's one-yard line. Says Bob with a grin: "Dad has no clippings to prove...
...good a technician as ever, and "The Druid Circle" moves forward with an oiled speed that is sure to keep you awake and lively for the full two and a half hours. Though threadss are dropped aimlessly all over the last two acts, they are line, colored, interesting threads, spun by an expert, if careless, craftsman...
...year the U.S. rubber industry, which decided to continue its wartime substitution of rayon tire cord for cotton, will probably take about 26% of the total U.S. production, v. 2% in 1940. Although U.S. productive capacity had more than doubled since the war began, the 900 million Ibs. being spun this year was still far short of demand...
...When Harvard Came of Age" steals the issue. Norman S. Poser has spun the several threads of Cambridge life during President Eliot's early reign into a completely readable yarn. The perfect compound of serious aspects, such as Eliot's introduction of the professor's name into the course booklet, with light strokes from the local color of the day makes it tops for its kind. If the description of the hazers' "Bloody Monday" doesn't amuse, the tales of erstwhile room decor surely will...
Morning Afters. The story that goes with the pictures is spun out in disarmingly unliterary prose, a kind of sardonic self-portrait of a Matthew Brady in paratrooper's boots. It is held together by an elusive, improbable and unresolved love story involving a pink-haired British girl named Elaine (he called her Pinky) and interspersed with morning-after recollections of nights before spent with more-or-less real people with names like Ernie Pyle, Quentin Reynolds and Ernest. Hemingway. At worst, the text can hardly spoil the pictures-or spoil the illusion that all photographers are exasperating...