Word: whiningly
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Luckily for the Crimson, the final time they heard the public address system's obscene whine, they didn't care what it sounded like. "The final Harvard goal was scored by Dave Conners...
...scene changes were too stark, too sudden, t.v.-like, often disturbing the sense of a flow of dream images. Finally, Williams' script calls for fiddle music at the beginning and end of the play, framing it in a Southern, story-telling manner but also providing an old-fashioned whine, a tug into the heart of this play and a sorrowful serenade at the finish. There is sometimes a brusqueness to this production that contrasts with the warmth and intimacy of the play...
There is not much noise-now and then the throaty roar of an improperly muffled diesel, the grating whine of a hydraulic accumulator and sometimes a distant cheer from students who get a cranky car started. Many entries are over in the repair section. Berkeley's yellow, gull-winged two-seater, with students draped all over its chassis, is splayed open like' a turkey awaiting stuffing."A little overhaul?" asks the car owner. "Overhaul, hell!" snaps a student mechanic. &"We're building it for the first time...
...never met anyone at Harvard able to match my tales of the people who lived in Stoughton my freshman year. Person for person, they were psychos. Zozo and Yarco, Stoughton's hulky Cuban sentinels, pouncing upon each girl as she entered the dorm: "What did you do tonight?" (Avuncular whine) "Who were you with?" (Leer) "Were his roommates there?" (Snicker) "A lady wouldn't do that." (Dismissed); Rob, the awestruck and disoriented Midwestern roommate of the Death Poet, wandering about sadly, latching onto anyone who would listen, occasionally making conversation with the two calculator-addled physics jocks who haunted...
...never met anyone at Harvard able to match my tales of the people who lived in Stoughton my freshman year. Person for person, they were psychos. Zozo and Yarco, Stoughton's hulky Cuban sentinels, pouncing upon each girl as she entered the dorm: "What did you do tonight?" (Avuncular whine) "Who were you with?" (Leer) "Were his roommates there?" (Snicker) "A lady wouldn't do that." (Dismissed); Rob, the awestruck and disoriented Midwestern roommate of the Death Poet, wandering about sadly, latching onto anyone who would listen, occasionally making conversation with the two calculator-addled physics jocks who haunted...