Word: trimly
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After climbing what seemed like an acre of white marble stairs, up a cascading red carpet, we were herded into position on a three-tiered platform erected especially for group portraits with the Premier. Immediately in strode Chou, brisk and businesslike, and very trim in a plain gray tunic with matching gray trousers. A miniature Chairman Mao button pinned to his tunic gave the only dash of color to his outfit. The guests applauded the Premier, and Chou, still unsmiling, clapped in return. Floodlights snapped on and the official photographer cranked off three exposures. Then everybody trailed after the Premier...
Western State's Les Huttenen, in one of his teams distinctive silver lame with red trim jumpsuits was thrown off line and travelling 40 m.p.h., crashed through one of the square red paper course markers hung between two poles, much like the climax of a Platformate commercial, and, blinded for the moment, whizzed over the toes of several transfixed spectators...
...difficulty," says Castaneda, is to learn to perceive with your whole body not just with your eyes and reason The world becomes a stream of tremendously rapid, unique events. So you must trim your body to make it a good receptor: the body is an awareness, and it must be treated impeccably." Easier said than done. Part of the training involved minutely, even piously attuning the senses to the desert, its animals and birds its sounds and shadows, the shifts in its' wind, and the places in which a shaman might confront its spirit entities-spots of power, holes...
...stay in shape for such arduous assignments, Sullivan carves time out of his schedule to swim and ice-skate near his home in Bethesda, Md. A trim 5 ft. 11 in., he watches his weight (Metrecal at his desk for lunch) and his appearance. Even in the thick of a crisis, his gray suits hold their shape and his loafers keep their high buff. Complains one subordinate with a tinge of envy, "This guy never even looks creased...
When Athos finally learns the truth about his father's treachery, he learns, too, that it is irrelevant. History, in a trim irony, becomes the distortion. The myth becomes the vital, seductive reality. Inextricably ensnared in it, Athos cannot leave the town. At the station, successive announcements are made that the Parma train is late. Its arrival will probably be postponed infinitely. Athos kneels to look at the tracks. They are overgrown with weeds...