Word: wheeling
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...named the victor. McCain and his aides shot up from the couches and the grins started. "Whew," he said. His arms, which his war injuries keep him from lifting over his head, shot out in double fists as if he were clutching an out-of-control steering wheel. He shook hands and hugged his staff. He was smiling so broadly you could see the gold caps on the teeth at the back of his mouth. Cindy turned to the campaign's bus driver, whose presence the couple consider a lucky omen, and said, "You're never going home...
...Morning Star Trucking Co. hauls bulk tomatoes from fields in California's Central Valley to nearby canneries. And they want you behind the wheel...
Dreamt up by the politically minded artists' collaborative known as the KNOWMAD Confederacy, "Map: Motion + Action = Place" is an installation work in the guise of an interactive arcade video game which purports to investigate "changing notions of national identity and belonging." True to arcade video game form, a steering wheel and acceleration pedal enable the visitor to navigate a desert landscape dotted by "nomadic tents" from which he must procure "sacred fruits" to save the KNOWMAD society. Based on Middle Eastern rug motifs, the three-dimensional interiors of the 36 tents are visually engaging and well-executed. Somewhere, there...
...accidents among Joanna's friends who were new drivers. Even Joanna, an honor student and a responsible kid, was ticketed within two weeks of getting her license. Joanna and her crowd are guilty of nothing more than youth and inexperience--but that can be a dangerous combination behind the wheel. Eide, 45, worked at a clerical job in a hospital emergency room in the 1970s and witnessed a steady stream of car-crash victims. Citing dramatic reductions in teen auto accidents in Florida, one of the first of 37 states to adopt some form of graduated licensing, she boasts, "This...
...shot up behind me on the right, going well over 80. The driver paused when he drew abreast. He gave me the finger - not once but repeatedly, stabbing the air in a pantomime of nasty proctological hydraulics. With his other hand, he flicked the steering wheel to the left in a spasm of menace, as if he meant to run me off the road. A complete stranger wanted me dead - or anyway, he played at it for a moment. At 75 mph, I had blocked the left lane. I had made him late for an IPO, I suppose...