Word: waxing
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...planting some roots, tenuous though they may be. The person you are when living somewhere, strolling around damp street corners and lazying around Regents Park and getting dressed for a newspaper job is not the person you are when you’re on holiday, pushing through queues and wax museums and hustling to get to the play on time, map flapping in the wind like a cape as you barrel down Picadilly Circus...
...imagined myself an aggressive young reporter in those days, and I had prepared a series of incendiary questions that I have long since forgotten. Reagan was wearing a brown suit; his red foulard was tied in a Windsor knot. His hair swooped dramatically; his cheeks were an odd wax-museum rouge. We shook hands and came out fighting. At least I did. He cocked his head, smiled and flicked me off his sleeve. An entirely unnerving experience, but not untypical. Reagan's sunny opacity was legendary, especially when it came to relations with the press. His discipline was legendary...
...self-proclaimed Hellenist who studied both ancient Greek and Latin in college, Agarwalla will wax poetic about the social and intellectual development of the average Harvard student in a speech titled “De Hominis Harvardiensis Decursu,” which means “On the Evolution of the Harvard Student...
DIED. S.C. JOHNSON, 76, head of the floor-wax company of the same name; of stomach cancer; in Racine, Wis. The company, named for and founded by his great-grandfather, became famous for Johnson Wax but, under Johnson's direction, branched out to other products such as Raid bug sprays. A friend of the environment, he stopped using chlorofluorocarbons three years before they were prohibited, costing the company millions in the short term but earning consumer trust...
...imagined myself an aggressive young reporter in those days, and I had prepared a series of incendiary questions that I have long since forgotten. Reagan was wearing a brown suit; his red foulard was tied in a Windsor knot. His hair swooped dramatically; his cheeks were an odd wax-museum rouge. We shook hands and came out fighting. At least I did. He cocked his head, smiled and flicked me off his sleeve...