Word: workshirts
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...realize the style of life they seek. Yet a distance between the student and his search for class develops. Some become nervous, some become alienated; probably out of a sense of guilt or inadequacy, they recoil from the traditional situations for which they yearn--they wear a workshirt with their tuxedo. Even clubbies show qualms about their exclusivity, which has already been eroded...
Some six miles south of Machias on Route 1 the cars pass a man in a blue workshirt and brown denim pants, striding along the shoulder of the road. Some of the cars honk and the man waves in response. Approaching a farmhouse, he leaves the road to greet a farmer standing by the side of the building. "Hi, I'm Bill Cohen," he says. "I'm walking through the county and wanted to stop by and see how things are going...
...quits, and soon sets out for his old job at a lumber camp. Facing nature alone, unfettered by machinery, he will lead, a romantic spirit would suggest, the rustic existence he is suited for. As he prepares to leave, close-ups of this burly man in a tartan flannel workshirt, his axe once again on his shoulder, alternate with shots of his sturdy wife, Helene Loiselle, ready to run the household by herself for as long as he is away. But Jutra's conception is not romantic -- no more than Walker Evan's photographs of the depression. The two come...
NEXT, out of nowhere--he had not been billed as one of the evening's bards--came Allen Ginsberg. He actually wore his clothes, faded jeans and workshirt, and a string of beads hung from his neck. Without any oms or antics, and without even introducing himself he read with his very cultivated, jazzy flat beat voice "On the Question of Freedom," a poem of Yevtushenko's translated by his croonie Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Ginsberg is normally considered, and not necessarily in a bad way, to be slightly looney; but in comparison to Yevtushenko and Barry Boys, he struck...
...into the eyes of that Yale fullback in the paisley helmet. Think of him and Erich Segal and good ol' Charley Reich tossing flowers at each other in the Pierson College dining hall as Kingman Brewster broadcasts the Fugs out of his office window. Think of jean-and-workshirt-bedecked Yalies pouring out of Skull and Bones to spend their GM dividend checks on grass and anti-war ads in the New York Times. And win this one for Consciousness...