Word: wining
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...business lines. Apart from his habitual pitcher's stance, he had a repertory of skits which included 1) the unrepentant drunk; 2) the "red-nosed, buttermilk-eyed, beetle-browed, peanut-brained, stall-fed old saloonkeeper"; 3) the society woman who spends her time on yachts drinking wine, her "miserable hands red with blood." His masterpiece was probably his theological version of the popular poem, Slide, Kelly, Slide! In this, Sunday impersonated both God (The Great Umpire of the Universe) and poor Kelly himself, who had taken to the booze. It was climaxed by a home-base slide across...
Armed with these basic tools and propelled by the collapse of his father's wine-making interests, Felix stopped into the world of fashion. Though at first only an elevator operator, he quickly changed his station. There followed a dazzling set of conquests for Felix which satisfied him immeasurably. Women young and old fell before his polished manners and Greek grace. They delighted in his thievery of both their riches and their virtue. Men begged for his fellowship. He was supremely happy to have the liberty of refusing or granting these favors as he wished. He achieved his grand triumph...
...guests grew impatient to hear Leader. "Where's that boy from Philadelphia?" cried a man at a corner table. Replied Butler: "He's from Harrisburg, and he'll be with you in a minute." Then, with a grin toward the corner table, he added: "That California wine is wonderful...
...underlying it all was a chill that cordiality could not conceal: a steely and unsentimental confrontation of men, of countries, of codes that were antipathetic to each other. At one point, Khrushchev, essaying a small compliment, remarked that much liberated German wine had reached Russia since the war, and that he had come to like it. "Come visit me, my friend," said Adenauer slowly, "and I will show you that guest wine is much better than liberated wine...
...rabbi's daughter, "Mama was treated rather like a princess around the house." But when Friday afternoon came, "she scrubbed the kitchen on her hands and knees until the place shone. The candles were lit, and we sang the joyful Sabbath hymns and drank the sacramental wine; the children, too. My father usually talked about the Bible." As in Marjorie Morgenstern's home, the menu was always gefilte fish,* chicken noodle soup, roast chicken, stewed prunes, tea and sponge cake. Those evenings, says Wouk, made for "an island of normalcy. Home seemed to be the place where everything...