Word: strangers
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...week from 6 p.m. until 1 a.m., earns $20,000 a year. He cannot abide sing-along customers, discourages them by "changing keys so often that they become confused." - Ernie Swann, at Detroit's Salamandre room, prides himself on living up to the motto "You're a Stranger Here Once." Between gulps of Liebfraumilch, he listens sympathetically to the troubles of the drinkers who huddle around his piano bar, treats each individually with an appropriate number drawn from a repertory of 2,000 songs. "I've always had a feeling for the other side of the piano...
Falstaff. Inside every fat man there is supposed to be a thin man screaming to get free. Inside Orson Welles there is just another fat man. At the age of 51, the onetime enfant terrible of cinema has finally allowed the swollen stranger in him to break loose. The stranger's name is Falstaff...
...about some of the polar bears who turn up on crowded Czech trams and in train compartments. "People in dirty work clothes should not get on public transport, because they will soil other people's clothes," she writes. "In the train, don't fall asleep on a stranger's knee." Nor should comradely formalities be overdone. Don't, for instance, shout the reverent Communist greeting, "Honor to labor!" to a friend who is sunbathing on the beach: such enthusiasm, she warns, "could appear ironic." More important, when greeting a woman, kiss her hand and address...
...detachment of long-memoried men La Guerre Est Finie-the war is over. Diego travels a dreadmill between the two countries in constant fear of arrest. He knows that for him there can be no victory, only an avoidance of defeat. Still, out of a habit that seems a stranger within his skin, he continues the gritty business of contacting comrades, smuggling propaganda into con- voluted Spanish cities where, in T. S. Eliot's phrase, the streets follow like a tedious argument...
Diego travels a dreadmill between the two countries in constant fear of arrest. He knows that for him there can be no victory, only an avoidance of defeat. Still, out of a habit that seems a stranger within his skin, he continues the gritty business of contacting comrades, smuggling propaganda into convoluted Spanish cities where, in T. S. Eliot's phrase, the streets follow like a tedious argument...