Word: throngs
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...want to see a presidential candidate, get close enough to look him (or her) in the eye, and actually be part of the foot-stomping, sign-waving, hand-clapping, ear-splitting, democracy-participating throng that most Americans never encounter? It's simple - just pack your parka and come to Iowa...
...agreement. The couple come often to this venue known for its faux thatched roof, green foliage and towering statue of a giraffe. Up the winding bamboo steps are groups of men huddled around tables to watch a soccer game on one TV. An equally large, but mixed-gender throng has gathered on the other side of the bar to catch the season finale of Big Brother. The crowd is rapt with attention, often bursting into laughter or exclaiming at the screens...
Director. Actor. Key Grip. Foley Mixer. Driver for Mr. Damon. Special-effects supervisor ... Can't stay in your seat till the end of the credits? That's because moviemaking is an extreme team art form, requiring a throng of people with specialized skills to gather for a few months, often in a strange land, and spend long hours in the frequently divergent pursuits of creativity and profit. The director is their aesthetic leader, but the producer is their boss. And the bosses everyone wants to work for in Hollywood are a married team: Kathleen Kennedy and Frank Marshall...
Halloween isn't what it used to be on State Street in Madison, Wisconsin. Last Sunday, the main gathering point for the university town's annual Halloween bash saw a throng of heavily boozed cross-dressers, walking food products and pop-culture oddities slowly crawling about at almost 1:30 Sunday morning, closing time here. But Molly Kelley, a junior at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, pointed at the large unpopulated gaps of littered concrete from a balcony overlooking the seven-block stretch. "Two years ago this place was packed like sardines," she says. "You couldn't move. Either...
...dilemma. As I loitered in the Dunster House Common Room for the final innings of game four, surrounded by a squawking throng of simian Red Sox fans, I couldn’t decide whether I should root for a Colorado comeback, out of my usual Schadenfreude for Boston sports, or rather bite my lip and hope for a quick Sox victory so as to get the whole damn thing over with. I was leaning towards the latter; the exquisite masochism of Boston sports fans, born out of centuries of Irish-Catholic resentment and sexual privation was getting tedious; and besides...