Word: watusi
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...that isn't enough distraction, there is also a carnival-style sideshow with dart games, a coin toss and an electronic shooting gallery for the kiddies. For the grownups, the sideshows are spicier. In one, a nearly nude girl bounces out of a bed and dances a quick Watusi whenever somebody hits a nearby target with a baseball...
...speaker really got warmed up, the delegates, with a rustling of shawls, erupted in lusty choruses of "Amen!" For pep songs, they turned to the New Day Temperance Songs pamphlet. For hardhitting oratory, they had Michigan Fundamentalist Charles Ewing, who deplored life under the Great Society as "a syncopated Watusi," in which "grey-haired mothers and grandmothers have shortened their skirts, exposed their bones, lit up their cigarettes, put on their war paint and started on a gin blitz for freedom with their bouffant bobs aflappin' in the wind...
During more than 50 years in the business, Society Bandleader Meyer Davis has gone bouncing along, adapting his sidemen to such mysterious rites as the shimmy, the black bottom, the big apple and the lindy. Now Meyer and his boys are constrained to blare out frug and watusi beats to accompany the debutantes. But the end is in sight, he says hopefully. "A lot of younger people are getting tired of that terrible noise," he remarked in Manhattan. "It's the death of conversation. Besides, boys are beginning to realize that it's sort of pleasant to hold...
...only 5 ft. 7, wore flat heels in Grand Hotel but still swayed high above John Barrymore, whose pressagent insisted that he stood 5 ft. 10.) For her height Vanessa is slender: her bust is small, her legs long and elegant; and she moves with the grace of a Watusi dancer?or a high-fashion model. Her lips are thin and subtle, her nose fine, her eyes a cool matte blue. There is something royal in her bearing and at the same time something girlish. The effect is delightfully incongruous. Says Peter Ustinov: "She's a mixture of Harper...
...Take me to your swingers." To which the cabbie replied: "Oh, you read the TIME magazine cover story too." After Buchwald failed in several attempts to find the swinging city we described (April 15), he went to the Time & Life Building on New Bond Street. There he watched correspondents watusi with comely researchers. "On each desk was a champagne bucket," he writes, "and when they saw me, someone forced a glass into my hand. 'Welcome to swinging London!' a secretary cried. I could hardly contain myself. 'Thank God, I found it at last...