Word: sweatingly
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...realism here, just a romp through the pastel homes and matching mother-daughter outfits of a more naive era. No anxious parental conflict, at least when Tracy's mom is played by Divine, the 300-lb. actor who always looks the height of fashion in a housedress. And no sweat, Baltimore: Waters has done you proud. Watch the moon shimmer in a puddle (as a rat crawls through it). See Tracy triumphant, in her pink roach-patterned evening gown. See Hairspray too. It's light and airy, but it will stick around: the first aerosol movie...
Post-preppies hang them loose over blue jeans. Club-hopping Angelenos sport them with black sweat pants, tennis shoes and a man's oversize blazer, while budding Wall Street aces tuck them under red suspenders. Corporate CEOs never took them off. They're chic; they're hip; they're the very cutting edge of fashion. And they look great with a tan. Please welcome that old standby, and new mainstay, white shirts...
...lugers are all seasoned veterans compared with the Jamaican bobsled team, which first put a sled into a starting chute only four months ago. In Calgary the Jamaicans may well win the gold medal for marketing chutzpah. Their T shirts sell for $15, their sweat shirts for $28. There is even a recorded reggae theme song for sale, Hobbin & A Bobbin. But team members bristle when anyone questions their commitment. Says Driver Dudley Stokes, a captain in the Jamaica Defense Forces: "There are no jokers on this team." There is a sprint champion and a reggae singer, though. Stokes flies...
Respect that you may hold in your hands the dried-up remains of the sweat of a man 400 years dead. Don't drop them, the librarian said. Respect that you hold wrought leaves of paper that were molded and dried long seasons ago into these pages, and that they have drunk up the learning of generations. Don't pull it from the top or the binding will break, the librarian said. Ultimately, respect that what you hold is a treasure brought out of the fog of time, out of the mind of a master, whose message to the world...
...think the nightmares and sweat that I mentioned previously are leftover guilt from remembering the Harvard students that I've caused pain and suffering. They remind me of how I once was. But they'll get over it--the Shuttle system needs more drivers, Besides, even my nightmares are less and less frequent. I've always said, if you can't beat them, join them...