Word: squawked
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...yielded only his lanky body to the therapy of the sun; his restless mind was as busy as a hummingbird. From the sprawling old ranch house came the clatter of typewriter keys, as a pretty secretary tapped out a just-dictated letter; when Johnson called her through a handy squawk box, the secretary would return, her shorthand notebook and pencil at the ready. From time to time she handed Johnson a convenient extension telephone, with an urgent call from Washington or some other distant spot. Without a telephone at arm's reach, Senator Johnson is as wretched...
Going Like 60. With all this welcome overhaul for the safety cocoon, the airlines and pilots still find plenty to squawk about. Pilots charge that FAA inspectors are harassing them. Indeed, the inspectors, backed heartily by Quesada, seem to materialize in cockpits like eager gremlins, ready to slap a fine on a pilot for the slightest infraction of the rule book. With each infraction, Quesada gets tougher. After a Pan American Boeing 707 started into a near fatal dive while its pilot was back chinning with the passengers, Quesada enforced a long-disregarded regulation requiring all pilots to stay...
...Squaw Valley. Worst yet, only 135,000 tickets had been sold of a capacity total of 385,000. Innkeepers and landlords were cutting prices (e.g., February rental of a cabin with room for 14 was down from $4,000 to $1,900) as the storm clouds gathered over Squawk Valley...
...Chicago's radio and television stations, Lar Daly, an obscure stool jobber with an unappeased appetite for public office, is a chronic squawk of static. Each time Perennial Candidate Daly runs for mayor of Chicago or President of the U.S., he shrilly demands his full free share of the air waves.* By law he has it coming: Section 315 of the Communications Act, the so-called "equal time" provision, requires a broadcasting station to give any political candidate as much time as it gives any other-as Daly knows full well. Last week Lar Daly's insistence...
...today. There's nothing prohibitive about $4 a year for a home-town newspaper. That's about 7½ ? a copy. About half our readers loll around coffee shops swilling from four to twelve cups of 10? coffee every day. They shouldn't squawk about paying the price of one cup of coffee for what we work all week to produce, and to improve their minds with our version of whatinell's happening...