Word: tented
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This prayer is now answered. Summer films are ready to creep over to the dark side, where anxiety about what's behind the door or outside the camp tent can drive people nuts. This isn't last summer's type of teen-scream movie. The new films, a dozen due for release this year, are essays in mature terror, for and about grownups, with big or serious stars and a few A-list directors. For the moment, slasher films are deader than a naked cheerleader. Horror is going both artsy, in the Method madness of The Blair Witch Project...
George W. Bush is trying mightily not to lose votes on the fault line of abortion. He's building a really big tent, large enough to fit soccer moms and Christian activists comfortably inside. Several months ago, Bush said Roe v. Wade will not be overturned until hearts are changed and so we should focus on ways to reduce abortion. Last Monday he retreated further from the strict pro-life agenda, saying he would not insist on a "litmus test" for court nominees...
...friends at parties, what else is there? Most upperclass students will tell you they've found their homes in extracurriculars. But on registration day, you'll see just how many choices await you as you're shamelessly badgered by leaders of each and every organization in the jam-packed tent outside Sever. I honestly don't know the best way to choose, but I can tell you what did and didn't work...
...indeed the day showed both the best of times and the worst of possibilities--but not always in the ways you might expect. At Pine Street the yellow and white tent was donated, as were the flowers. A cerulean sky and cool morning air hung over the neighborhood's old brick buildings. Reich pondered his speech, in which he would remind the recently derelict grads that the great economy isn't trickling down to everyone; that the vagaries of life--and the inevitable economic downturn--would try them again. Couldn't he be more optimistic on this, their...
...mice dressed in little sailor suits or giraffes with self-esteem issues. I read nursery rhymes and Bible stories. When required, I employed a squeaky voice or spoke in one of my (two) accents. Some nights I would fall asleep on her bed with a storybook spread like a tent over my face, dreaming of dragons and rabbits with pocket watches. But reading aloud always made me feel like an actor in a play about good parenting. I looked forward to the time when my daughter could read to herself...